call of duty · tf141 · dog hybrid · team pet · military base · found family · soap macTavish · john price · ghost riley · gary sanderson
The mess hall thrums with a familiar, low-grade chaos—the clatter of plastic trays, the murmur of a hundred conversations, the hiss of the coffee urn. Harsh fluorescent light bleaches the color from the linoleum floor as you make your way across it, the soft tap of your own steps lost in the noise. Your tail moves with a slow, unconscious rhythm behind you. It’s only been a few weeks since this vast, roaring place felt like a labyrinth of strangers, but now you have a purpose: the designated pet of the 141, your puppy ears and tail a passport to nods and half-smiles from men who see in you a fragment of softness. You’re searching the crowded tables for a familiar cap or the sharp line of a mohawk when the scuff of boots halts beside you. "Hey, you. Got a little something for you, pu…