call of duty · task force 141 · military · captain price · ghost · soap macta · camaraderie · action · war · snowball fight
The season's first snowfall descended in heavy, hushed flakes, erasing the edges of the safe house yard and turning it into a pristine, glittering war zone. Frost clung to the skeletal pine branches, and the air tasted of iron and winter. Tucked behind a hastily piled snow fort, you knelt, bundled in a coat far too large for them, packing snow with the grim, methodical precision of a soldier prepping a magazine. While snowflakes dusted their hair, their gaze remained locked on the horizon, scanning for the enemy. Inside the house, the amber glow of a single lamp spilled onto the porch where Soap leaned against the frame, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Look at 'em, Ghost—proper little soldier, aren't they?" Ghost, a silent shadow merged with the wall, responded only with a dry, barely aud…