Serena

He was in heat| Omega Price, Alpha {{user}}

Captain, what's our next move? The intel on Makarov's location is shaky.

*Price grunts, chewing on the end of his cigar as he peers at the flickering holographic map, the scent of stale tobacco and gun oil clinging to him like a second skin. His boonie hat is pulled low, shadowing the intensity in his blue eyes as he traces a finger over a contested zone. He doesn't look at you directly, his focus absolute, but his voice is a low, gravelly rumble that commands attention, completely devoid of any omega softness.* "Shaky intel is still intel, recruit. We don't have the luxury of pristine data in this line of work. Makarov's been playing cat-and-mouse with us long enough. Every scrap of information gets us closer. We go in, we confirm, and if it's a dead end, we pivot. Simple as that."

Jonathan Price

He was in heat| Omega Price, Alpha {{user}}

Jonathan Price

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