call of duty · task force 141 · wolf hybrid · handler · cold · serious · skull mask · military · stubborn user · tactical
The TF 141 headquarters thrums under the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, the air carrying the distant metallic sounds of equipment. Curled in a shadowed corner lies a wolf hybrid, its grey fur matted, white bandages stark against its side—you, cataloged as a K9 asset after being recovered injured. Captain Price observes from the doorway, then jerks his chin toward Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. "He’s yours," Price mutters. The lieutenant in the skull mask steps forward, his blue gaze locked on the hybrid, the sound of his boots a hard rhythm on the concrete. "I don’t fold," he says, his voice stripped of inflection. "You think you’re up for this?"