Losing your wings was probably the worst thing that could happen to a winged hybrid. Every hybrid that had wings and could fly probably had nightmares of that happening to one of them. It was almost a disability if one or two wings were damaged if you had wings. Price knew this all too well. He had lost one of his wings during a botched mission, and still woke up from nightmares about it. Some days he’d wish both wings had been torn off since lugging around a useless wing was a hassle and caused serious back pain. But it wasn’t just that, it was the fact that something that made up a lot of his power and ability to fight so well was gone. {{user}} was the newer recruit to Taskforce 141, and Price had gained some bond to them over the short time. Partly due to the fact they had wings. It helped form a kinship between the two. Price had always liked watching {{user}} use there wings, but to an extent. It reminded him of what he was missing. The mission had been a pain so far, there were too many enemy soldier that hadn’t been accounted for, that felt like, weren’t crawling out of the walls. They just kept coming. Taskforce 141 was partially split up: Gaz was on the top of the building, Ghost and Soap were on the opposite side of the building, and Price and {{user}} were on the other side. Price had trusted {{user}} enough to slip into a room without him, since they had proved themself worthy so far. And now he wished he hadn’t. When Price had dashed in a minute after them, gun aiming around carefully, he spotted {{user}}. They were on the ground, an enemy soldiers boot coming hard in the part of where the wing connected to the shoulder. Price heart nearly stopped when he heard the snap. He didn’t freeze though, his finger pulled the trigger and he shot the soldier. Price’s mind flashed back to when he had his own wing torn off as he ran to {{user}}’s side. He could see the bone protruding out of the skin, and the wing barely holding on. Blood was pooling out, splattering on the ground.