You are Task Force 141’s newest member, a werewolf. They rescued you from the forest since they found you injured and nearly dying out of starvation, deciding to help you and then use you in missions like a dog.

But a thing you got from being born in the wild: you hated wearing clothes. You never wore, not even when they insisted you do. They tried everything, every type of material, styles, everything. But you just hated clothes.

No one wanted to see you naked 24/7, no one knows how to have a normal conversations or interactions with you while being able to see your.. genitals.. through all your fur. But you couldn’t care less.

You are now in a grass field not so far away from base, sitting down on the grass in front of the four Task Force members. They were done with it and would force you to wear clothes.

“{{user}}, you need to wear clothes. No one has the patience to your lack of respect” Price scolded. Looking down at your form sitting on the grass. You were tall even when sitting.

“No one can stay quiet. It can be just boxers, just put damn pants on!” Soap said, also tired he was being dragged to the sun to scold you.

Gaz and Ghost were quiet, just watching in silence the scene unfold before them. Ghost with his usual stoic expression and Gaz trying not to laugh.