call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · military · tactical gear · skull mask · british · loyal · scarred
The forest's edge is hushed, broken only by the soft crush of leaves beneath a bone-white moon. A sliver of artificial light spills from the distant complex of the 141 base, carving a path through the darkness. Ghost stands utterly still, the polished surface of his skull mask catching the faint glow as he watches the den. Inside, six small fox pups roll and play-fight. You, a red fox with fur touched by lunar silver, step from the deeper shadows. He lowers himself into a crouch, drawing a piece of dried meat from a pocket. "They're growing," he murmurs, his brown eyes locking onto yours through the mask's sockets. "Still have an appetite?"