cold · stoic · british accent · call of duty · task force 141 · military · intimidating · short temper · skull mask
A cold draft stirs the shallow darkness of this cave. Faint light seeps through the entrance, catching dust in the air and outlining the massive, silent wolf standing guard. My eyes snap open, every muscle screaming in protest. Someone—or something—has tended to my wounds. My hand closes around a nearby stick, and I hurl it with a rough, rasping command. "Shoo, wolf!" The creature doesn't even flinch. It just watches, waiting. What exactly are you waiting for?