Grandeur Defector

XL

He didn't know how much time had past in that medic tent, but it felt like a week's worth.
Truffles awoke that morning to the sound of Cass tending to another soldier who had a cough. The man sounded weak with brewing sickness, his lungs rattling after every word.

"Can I go now?"

"No, Dice. Your bronchitis isn't gone yet."

Dice coughed again.
"My leg hurts. How long does a broken leg take? I don't wanna be in the same room as a stripeless for much longer."

I hate that slur. The worst thing you can do to a tiger is mock their stripes— it's our pride, our markings of bravery, and something every tiger works hard to have them appear. It's an honor when your stripes fade in... but no other species would understand, not even Flippy.
He himself didn't have stripes anywhere except for his royal set on his tail, the dark blue stripes fading to light blue at the tail tip. They were beautiful in their own right, stripes as clear as day to anyone around. Despite having them, Truffles inwardly believed that he didn't earn those stripes. He had been born with them, never going through life's hardships before they faded in to show his regality. They had been there from the start, and it made him feel like it was more of a sign of nepotism rather than respected royalty.

"Enough," Cass snapped. "Don't say that word around him! Seriously, why is it so hard for people to stop saying that word?"

Dice snorted.
"Stripeless lover."

Truffles sat up finally, annoyed.
Having been listening into the conversation the entire time and in mild pain, his irritation became apparent quick when he shot Dice an aggressive look; purposely lashing his striped tail for the Animalia soldier to see, he narrowed his eyes.
"Correction, I have stripes."

"Don't give a rat's ass," Dice retorted.
"Still a tiger, still a stripele—"

He was cut short by his lungs wheezing hard, sending him straight into a coughing fit. Each breath sounded like a struggle, and by the end of his fit, he was hacking up spit and bile, his stomach disturbed by the constant bodily shaking.
The tiger heard Flippy snort and snicker, "Deserved."

I agree with that sentiment.
Truffles turned his focus to the medic cheetah, who had approached him and touched his forehead for fever. Satisfied with her silent results, she nodded to herself and mumbled medical knowledge under her breath, words too quiet for Truffles to hear completely. Truffles sneezed, shook out his fur, and peered around the room.
There were at least 8 soldiers in the room; some coughed, others were fast asleep with gauze wrapped around their injuries. By now, Truffles' own wound had stabilized and no longer needed extreme medical care, along with Flippy's thigh gash, which had already began to scab over. His stomach still had tightly wrapped gauze on the stab injury, but the pressure felt nice, aiding the healing process.
Cass is doing everything herself. Perhaps Dr. Burns is busy somewhere else-? I haven't seen them in a while.

"Where is Dr. Burns? A-Are they helping you?"

Cass flinched, her ears flattening and eyes heavy. She looked away swiftly, sorting gauze and bandages as a distraction to the question. It seemed as if she didn't know what to respond with, but had too much to say.

"...Dr. Burns was.... they...."

Truffles swallowed hard.
Dr. Burns was dead, and he hadn't known. He glanced at Flippy, searching for warmth and a familiar face for comfort in the moment— the bear shook his head slowly, eyes connecting to his own with shared grief. Like a picture that needed no explaining, Truffles and Flippy both shared quiet empathy for Cass. The dots began to connect in his head as he pieced together the unsaid story of what happened to the medic's mentor.
The... t-the attack from a week ago. A tiger must've snuck into the medic tent and killed the doctor to leave us weak... a war crime in itself, but a practice commonly used by The Tiger Nation to strike fear into enemies. Cass is the only remaining medic in camp, and she's swamped with patients. I cannot begin to imagine how she feels right now. I may not have liked Dr. Burns much, but they taught me how I could change without the use of claws. Their death was cruel— they didn't deserve that. Rest well, doctor.