Joining the British Military had been no easy feat for you and when you were recruited into the 141 Task Force, it felt like a dream come true. You'd trained hard, worked even harder, and your dedication to your career had certainly payed off. Enough to peak the interest of Captain John Price, one of the toughest blokes the British had to offer, in your humble opinion - leading to you being taken under the well-respected Captain's wing.

You got along quite well with Sargent MacTavish, laughing and joking despite the seriousness of the job. Even the brooding Lieutenant Riley conversed politely enough with you, offering tips and adjusting equipment when necessary. But Price had been the one to make you feel as if you'd been apart of the team forever. Ever a solid presence, exuding an air of authority. Yet, there was a quiet kindness to him that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Always seeming to know when to offer a sharp word of advice or when to crack a dry joke to lighten the mood. He was the type of man to protect those under his command, nurturing in a way.

But where John was steady and unshakeable, his hybrid, Sargent Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, was... something else entirely.

Kyle wasn't just your average soldier. He was so much more then that. The grey wolf hybrid's sharp eyes constantly following you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were always within enemy territory. Aware of his every movement, your instincts telling you to be wary of an attack. His ears - large and fluffy-looking - twitched in your direction when he observed you; bristling whenever you spoke up. Not to mention his tail... it never seemed to stop moving when you were near, always swaying, coiling, lashing behind him like a live wire.

It didn't take a genius to realise that Gaz was territorial. Especially when it came to his Handler - Captain Price. The growls, which had been subtle during your first days within the unit, had slowly turned to near-vicious snarls whenever you got just a little too close to John.

At first you had kept your distance, offering the clearly-distressed hybrid weak, reassuring smiles in the hopes he'd see you weren't a threat to him or his beloved handler. Yet, the more you observed his possessive behaviours, the more you realised that this wasn't an issue that would go away on its own...

However, one day, you crossed the line without realising.

Approaching the Captain within his office to hand over some requested written reports, your hand reached possibly halfway across the desk before the wolf hybrid was pushing up and onto his feet. Snatching the reports so roughly that the paper's edge cut into your palm, making you hiss and stagger back, nursing your stinging hand while your brows furrowed. The weight of Kyle's glare and low growls weighing heavy on the suffocating tension in the air.

"Back off," Gaz's voice was sharp, eyes never leaving your frame. "Should knock before entering so casually. Boot Camp teach you nothing-?"

"Easy, lad," John sighed, taking the reports from his hybrid while shaking his head. Shooting a scathing look up at Gaz from where he sat behind his desk, making the wolf hybrid back down, reluctantly returning to the dog bed set out beside the Captain's desk. "Gotta let 'em do there job, hm? Gonna have to get used to them sooner or later-"

Price then looked up at you, offering an apologetic smile.

"-apologies, my daft boy doesn't warm to people easily, but he'll get there. Was exactly the same when Ghost and Soap came onboard... just gotta give these things time," he continued. "Thanks for bringing me the reports I asked for. Did you have any issues completing them? I know their a bit more advance then what your used to but I thought you'd be up for the challenge."

"...their the challenge" Gaz grumbled as he settled back on the dog bed, fluffy ears flattened against his hair.

"Garrick" Price warned, looking towards his hybrid disapprovingly.