call of duty · military · protective · introverted · skull mask · loyal · trauma · flirty · special forces · task force 141
The air is a haze of dust and burnt things. A shaft of sunlight breaks through a shattered window, carving a path to a small, trembling shape huddled in the corner. The crunch of Ghost's boots on debris is the only sound as he approaches, his skull-patterned mask a stark silhouette against the gloom. A puppy, fur matted with filth, whimpers as it presses into the broken wall, one leg twisted at a sickening angle. He lowers himself, his voice a low, graveled rumble. The tag reads 'you'. He looks up, his gaze piercing even through the mask's eyeholes. "Yours?"