Grandeur Defector

XXXIX

That same day, Truffles heard commotion that startled him just outside where he was helping chop wood logs for the main camp campfires through winter. As he swung down the axe and wiped the sweat off his forehead, he heard yelling coming from the medic tent.
I should check on him.
He set the axe down and abandoned his post, faintly aware that corporal Olive was watching him leave without permission. Although she didn't say anything, she rolled her eyes, grabbed another soldier's jacket arm, and begin instructing him to fill in for Truffles. Truffles swerved past the other working soldiers easily, agile and nimble on his feet; as he got closer to the medic tent, he noticed a familiar tail poking out of the entrance.
Warren.
Oh no.

He brushed past Warren in the entrance way and entered the tent to see Flippy glowering down at his superior. Truffles' eyes met his, their expressions both mixed with anxiety and unsure anger towards the wolf who had sent the team off to death by accident in the name for revenge. Warren was explaining the best he could, eyes heavy with grief.
He's still grieving Cadet.

"Listen, Flippy. I know that mission didn't seem like it needed to happen, but it did."

"My friends' deaths were just a sacrifice to you?!"
Flippy snarled in anger.

"No, course not. How would I have known they would've died?"

"You ASSHOLE," Flippy roared in Warren's face, tears beginning to form in his eyes.
"I TRUSTED YOUR JUDGEMENT, I DID WHAT YOU WANTED, AND LOOK WHERE IT'S PUT ME AT!"

"Corporal," Warren snapped, voice low but harsh. Patience running thin, it was clear the wolf wasn't desiring a lower rank to fight back against his word.
"I understand you're upset, but this isn't the time to be fuckin' yellin' at a superior for takin' orders. I'm sorry you lost them— I am. But life goes on."

Flippy looked extremely offended, fury and confusion in his expression— and Truffles couldn't blame him.
"CORPORAL?! You're promoting me now that my friends are DEAD?!"

"It ain't like that. You've been promoted for your bravery and the fact that you survived one helluva scrap."

"So my friends... my friends would be promoted too if they'd survived," Flippy's voice faltered, cracking with pain. "But they didn't and I'm left to suffer for it."

Silence.
Warren looked away.
Flippy sighed and continued.

"I shouldn't have survived. I shouldn't have come back, I should've stayed there and bled out and died next to my friends like I deserve. Why me? Why did I get to live, Warren? Why did they have to suffer? Why was I allowed to walk away? Why...?"

Warren sighed, face twisting with concealed empathy.

"Corporal—"

"—Don't call me that, I don't deserve it. I don't even deserve to still be here," Flippy snapped, tears at the corners of his eyes. Extreme worry shot through Truffles, and without thinking, he shot forward and joined the conversation at last.

"You do deserve to be alive. You survived the impossible."

Nothing.
Truffles stared up into his friend's hollow eyes with concern, trying his best to get his friend's logical reasoning factoring in his argument.
I'm not good at comforting people, but I still want to try.

"Look at you— you have earned people's respect, you earned this status. Mouse and Sneaky would be proud of you... don't you think so, too?"

"But they're not here," Flippy sobbed, both hands covered his face in misery.
"And it's all my fault, it's my fault."