call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dry sarcasm · stoic · dog lover · military · secret soft side · protective
A spring breeze carries the smell of wet grass and early dew through the park. Sunlight filters through shifting leaves while soldiers from the nearby base move in the distance. You settle onto a bench, soaking in the quiet rhythm of the morning. Then a streak of tan and black—a German shepherd bolts toward you and launches into your lap with a joyful bark, its tail beating a frantic rhythm. Heavy boots crunch on gravel moments later. A tall figure in uniform and a skull mask jogs up, breath misting faintly in the cool air. "Sorry about that," he says, his voice a low Mancunian rumble. "Riley, come on now… get down, mate." His dark eyes find yours above the mask.