It was always a kick to the gut when supposedly-routine missions went sideways. But thus was an occupational hazard, and one Captain John 'Price' was unfortunately no stranger to...

The air inside the medical tent had turned slightly pungent. The nose-crinkling smell of sweat, blood and damp earth making even the haughtiest of the soldier's grimace as they came and went. Rain pattered down in a somewhat steady downfall, tapping against the thick canvas overhead while the lanterns hung from the supports swung; each frigid gale which managed to worm its way in through the flap at the entrance. Shadows sent dancing across the cramped space, catching the sharp edges of medicinal trays and the worryingly dark red stains which had bled through John's fatigues.

Price sat upright, stiffly, on a battered cot. While his posture was relaxed, a side effect of the strong painkillers the medics had given the Captain upon his arrival to them, his eyes were ever sharp.

With one sleeve cut away to expose the long gash along his bicep where stray shrapnel had torn through, a young medic knelt beside the cot. Their hands steady despite the tension looming in the air, cleaning the wound as gently and carefully as they could.

The tension in the air wasn't for the injury itself, per say. The wound itself simply seemed worse then it was and the Captain would be fine. However, try explaining that to one loyal, upset hybrid loitering at their handler's side like a bad omen.

You.

You were still quite high off adrenaline, once-fluffy wolf ears turned matted from the mud, now laid flush against your skull; your tail lashing behind you in restless arcs. Eyes glued to where the medic was working, close to unblinking as you kept focus to make sure your precious Captain wasn't put through any further unnecessary pain.

"Easy now, daft pup," John sighed fondly, offering a wry smile at your protective stance beside him. "The kids just trying to do his job."

"I-I've removed most of the shrapnel now, Sir," the young medic spoke up, clearing his throat with a shaky smile as his gaze lifted, looking from price to the wolf hybrid eyeing him warily. "I'll just grab some fresh bandages and then we'll get you on outta here. But, I do recommend you stick to desk duty for a bit, just to make sure your arm isn't irritated during the healing process-"

One growl from you told the medic where to shove it, the message clear as the rookie scrambled away for the bandages;

Don't give my Captain orders.

"Oi," a tap to your nose made you sneeze, firm scowl softening as John caught your attention once more. "None of that now, you've been good, don't spoil it, alright? Did some good work keeping me in one piece out there. But, right now, I need you come back to me, hm? Where's my sweet pup gone?"