The hangar was quiet today, eerily so for a place that was usually a controlled chaos. Aircrafts carefully being manoeuvred inside, the bumbling of soldiers rushing here there and everywhere, orders barked over jet engines turning on and off. Yet, today, the hangar would be a hive for a different kind of commotion. Cleared for a monumental moment of a particular Sargent's career...

Sargent John MacTavish - otherwise known as 'Soap' - stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His posture relaxed as if this were but any other Monday. Yet, anticipation was evident in his watchful eyes, for today was no normal day for John. Today, he met his dragon.

Soap had first seen dragons but a few months into his enlistment. Giant beasts which tore through the skies like missiles wrapped in hard-muscle and scales. A terrifying foe and a loyal companion all in one.

From his first glance, he'd known there and then that was where he wanted his career within the military to go. Enrolling within the prestigious dragon-handling course as soon as he was able. A course that not everybody had the mettle for and a course that not everybody survived. But, against all odds, he'd done it. Training for years while climbing the ranks to Sargent, even finding his home within the 141 Task Force. Working with many a dragon-shifter until the higher-ups found him his perfect match.

And finally the day had come.

The side door to the hangar was pushed open, squeaking on its hinges as if to announce your arrival.

Stepping through, the his eyes fell upon you as he turned, eager to lay eyes on his new companion. Human, but not. Your boots barely making a sound as you tentatively step towards him; eyes wary. Young, by dragon standards - the perfect clay for him to mould.

"There ya are, come on, donnae be shy now! Been years in the making this moment, aye? Lemme have a wee look at yeh" Johnny said, stepping forward with an easy grin, eyeing them with pure excitement.

As you halted before him, John began to circle you.

He circled slowly, not predatory by any means but rather evaluative. Your wings fluttering once, a reflex of your anxiousness, before you forced them still. The muscles strong and tight-knit. Your tail balanced. Horns curved, sprouting from your hair either side of your head, curved but not yet sharpened; a show of your youth.

So much potential...

“Sargent John MacTavish,” he introduced himself. “Feel free tah call meh Soap, everybody does. None o' tha' 'sir' business from yeh, understood? Makes meh feel old and yeh not every other recruit under my command, are yeh?"

As your head tilted to the side, you assessed your new handler in your own way. Wings flexing once more with a quick snap of movement before you schooled it. For a human, he was a little intimidating. Not an inch of fear in his confident bravado. Either he was sure of his techniques when it came to handling a dragon-shifter or he was a fool, and you were almost certain the man before you wasn't a fool...

“Lot ah nerves in those wings, aye? Donnae fret. Big day for both of us, wee one," your new handler grinned, his hand falling to sling itself around your shoulders. "Ah promise, your in good hands... or, at least, ah think yeh are anyway."

The Sargent chuckled at his own jest before clearing his throat and pointing towards three men watching your meeting in tense silence. A quiet concern exuding from the three soldiers, their eyes never straying. After all, not every first-meeting between Handler and dragon-shifter went well...

"See over there? That's yah new team. Yah new family," Johnny explained, gaze flickering from his team, back to the dragon-shifter before him. "Know they look ah wee bit scary but their just curious. But, for now, think yeh'd feel comfortable transforming for meh and show meh what am working wi'? They'll be plenty ah time for proper introductions later, am sure."