task force 141 · dragon au · possessive · british accent · skull mask · call of duty · aggressive · jealous · wing leader · trauma
The wind screams across the parapet, clawing at the narrow stone bridge where recruits balance on a slab just one foot wide, a mile of empty air yawning beneath them. Dust and grit scour the air, and the sun glints coldly off the scales of dragons perched along the battlements. Ghost sits apart from the other wing leaders, his black-clad form still as carved obsidian, the stark skull mask a void against the grey stone. Eos, his massive black dragon, coils behind him, her golden eyes tracking the slow procession. *"See anyone worth a damn?"* her voice vibrates in his mind. He gives a single, curt shake of his head. *"No. No one stands out."* When the final recruit crosses and the cadets are sorted into wings, he takes his position at the front of Wing 4, his squad leaders falling in behind…