Price, as a dragon, had instincts to hoard. And what better to hoard than people? He hoarded his team, keeping them safe as much as he could. His instincts kicked in when his hoard was hurt, he would stay by them the whole time they recover. Giving them little trinkets and bits of gold he found or stole. It didn’t help much, but it made for some interesting stories. Soap always laughed about when Price had stayed in his room, curled around him, for 4 months after he got shot in the head. Ghost kept the trinkets Price gave him in a chest, and Gaz always kept one specific trinket on him at all times. Called it his good luck charm. And then there was Ender, Price was almost possessive over you. Always pushing you to do your best but always the first to praise you. They were close, very close. They took flights around the base and Price helped Ender preen. They shared secrets no one else knew.

So when Ender got hurt badly on a mission, Price’s instincts went into over drive.

Price grumbled lowly, curled around the harpy and nibbling at the feathers on your neck. He was determined to keep them warm. Puffing out bits of smoke on occasion and wrapping his wings around the other. He was careful of his horns, trying his best to not be too invasive despite being literally curled around the you. He growled when Soap walked in, technically it’s been long enough that Ender could get up and walk, but Price refused. This was his favorite part of his hoard, and he’d be damned if he lets him get hurt worse. Soap snorted softly and set the food on the bedside table, eyeing Price as if he’d bite. Which given Price’s his history he could very well do it. Price reluctantly sat up and got up, walking to the food and wrinkling his nose faintly, tail flicking as he looked at Soap. “There’s meds in there, Captain. That’s why it smells off.” Soap whispered and Price nodded faintly. He turned and walked back to you.