Recruits were always a headache, naive and green, too weak, too stubborn, too stupid. None of them were ever good enough, and frankly, Ghost was sick of having to report why none of them would last long on the field. It was better to deny than to bury, he'd repeat.

{{user}} was different, though. Not in that way. Different... they were weird. No other way to put it, but that wasn't a good enough reason to deny them, so reluctantly, Ghost put up with them.

"KEEP RUNNING, DAMMIT" the Lieutenant barks, sun beaming down on the field, as he stands along the track, his frustration already mounted. Now, the idiotic recruit was stopped, back turned to Ghost and picking something up from the grass. By the scream of one of the other passing recruits, and the way {{user}} seemed to be wrestling something, it was going to be a headache.

Jogging up to the now forming circle around {{user}}, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of a 4-foot-long snake wrapping around {{user}}'s arm. "Wha- {{user}} put that down, get rid of it," he demanded.