task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · protective · british accent · muscular · serious · banter · otter hybrid
The lake lay glassy and still beneath the pale afternoon light, the only sound the soft lap of water against the shore. Kyle stood at its edge, cap pulled low, brow knit in concentration. A pebble struck the back of his head. He spun, gaze raking the treeline. Shrubbery rustled. Then he saw you—human in shape, but with small, rounded otter ears poking through your hair and a long, expressive tail swaying gently behind you. His jaw went slack. "What the hell are you?"