Grandeur Defector

X

It was dawn, the dew of early morning's frost setting onto the grass. Eleven was curled up, asleep at last the second he could see early signs of light peeking through the darkness. He twitched randomly at times, and his eye bags of sleep deprivation weighed heavy. He propped his tail to curl neatly in between his legs, protecting what he feared what would be taken from him at night.
It wasn't the palace's jade interior, but Eleven's little tent was cozy enough. He didn't have to worry about the palace guards attempting to modify his body in his sleep against his will, or The General hiding within the dark corridors.
But I DO have to deal with-
And just like that, Flippy interrupted his thoughts by bursting into the tent rudely.

"Gooooood morning, prisoner! It's bathroom break time."

You.
Eleven obeyed reluctantly but wordlessly, watching Flippy untie him from the rabies rod and hold the chain in his hands. He beckoned Eleven with a hand gesture, and they both walked out of the prisoner tent and into the light of morning. It was bright outside, the sun hurting his sensitive eyes. The warmth on his pelt didn't help his sleepiness, and his eyes drooped, heavy with sleep deprivation. Eleven, despite his efforts to seem alert, was exhausted.
My tail is dragging, but who cares.

...

It was just another day. The bathroom breaks, then showering, lunch, dinner, prisoner tent. He had ate the day before, still full from his prior meal. The thought of eating solid food made him queasy even with his stomach crying in protest.
Where has the day gone?
He could see the sun setting. Eleven perked his ears up, the sound sensitive membranes flexing towards the sky like satellites searching for a signal.
I hear laughter.

"Hey, so there's a party tonight," Flippy nudged his side, poking his shoulder. The chains on Eleven rattled at the new touch, as if angry for being disturbed.
A party?

"You can come if you want. It'll be in the rookie tent quarters."

He sighed, tired and confused.
"Why?"

"We haven't gotten ambushed in a while. Plus I had a good scouting mission last night."

"What did you find?"

Flippy looked away awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his furred neck.
"Uhhh I... can't say. Special Forces, if you catch my drift."

Eleven rolled his eyes grumpily.
"Right."
Oh, but I'm supposed to tell you valuable information without question? Tsk!

Flippy circled him, seeming eager for a response.
"Soooo do you wanna come? I could pick you up at dusk?"

Eleven flattened his ears, unsure.
There will be a lot people there, in a small room probably, and they may see me. This is risky, but....maybe I'm allowed since I helped Flippy defend the camp from that tiger scouter a few days ago? Hmm.
Even still, inviting the enemy into a party is a strange move. Plus, I wouldn't know anyone, and it'll be loud, and what if they hate me, and what if-

The huff that Flippy exhaled broke Eleven's spiraling thoughts of anxiety.
"You can say no, Eleven."

It sounded oddly gentle, the tone soft and reassuring. If Eleven's thoughts was the deep sea of hell, Flippy's tone was a boat among the rough waves, built for two.

He has been kind to me, and still is. Even when I snap at him or try to run, he keeps trying. It's not fair that he tries and I don't. I'm still his burden. He aggravates me, but maybe that's just the lack of sleep talking.

"I will go."

—

Alone in his tent he stood, waiting. He could practically smell dusk approaching, the sky beginning to dim into shadow and the birds ending their crescendos.
I am SO tired but I'm doing this. This will not end well, I have a bad feeling about this.... party. Is it even a party, or rather an ambush of some sort-?