Grandeur Defector

XLI

Beloved enemy of mine.
You hurt me so good. You've shown me the best parts of humanity, and the worst of my sins. To you I'm both something and terrible, and I can't tell which one you see me as more. Am I your enemy that's always been, or a friend acquired past bloodshed's boundary? I don't know anymore what I am or who I'll be, but I fear that it's far too late for any answer anymore. Isn't it, Corporal?
Truffles sat in the trench alone, dusk upon the sky's cracks. He hadn't slept well yesterday or the day before— not ever since Flippy yelled at him while drunk, plastered out of his mind. They hadn't talked since, hadn't ate together since, hadn't seen each other's eyes fore both of them not dared to see the hurt reflecting back. But the tiger didn't make a move to change the situation, as the words spoken had cut deep into his heart and it bled invisibly when he walked. His fur was beginning to become messy again from the lack of self care, but a monster doesn't deserve basic necessities, does it?

Truffles sighed to himself and gazed around, trying to find anyone that looked familiar; there was no familiar face, no Otto nor Dell, no Mouse nor Sneaky, no Dr. Burns or any other face he could recognize. They were all 6 feet below, and every step on the earth felt as if Truffles was walking over corpses that would forever haunt his footsteps. There was an elephant who was fiddling with the scope on his gun, a zebra who smoked a cigarette a little further down the trench, and an iguana with a aardvark discussing whether or not global warming existed to his right. It felt like his eyes were heavy with sorrow and sleep deprivation, but he couldn't shut them.
He wasn't safe anymore.

...

Nothing happened.
Not a single tree moved except for by the wind, neither did a bush rustle with a tiger soldier. No soul came daring to attack at night unlike they had been during the day, which was twice the oddity considering tigers are nocturnal. As the day shift began, he heard someone above the trench line give a curt order.

"Rotate out for active daywalkers."

Truffles jolted so hard and turned quickly to confirm his suspicions as to who gave the order— an order that only a Corporal or higher was able to execute. There he was, green fur and all with a uniform now dark green in comparison to his Private status beige, the color a camouflage look to it. He had two stripes on both shoulders to signify his status, and he stared down at the soldiers below with slight uncertainty in his eyes. When his eyes landed on Truffles, the tiger looked away distraught.
Ah. He accepted his new status, I see.
One by one, the night shift soldiers walked up the wooden plank steps and into the main camp to head to bed, dawn just approaching. Just as Truffles walked by him, the Corporal paused.

"N-Not you, I want to talk to you."

The... the last time we talked, you yelled at me for trying to help you. How am I supposed to be ok with that? I don't understand this... this friendship thing! It can be so complicated sometimes!
But I hate this. I hate being angry at you, because I don't want you to leave me. Please don't leave, even though you likely will. There's no point in trying to make you stay— they all abandon me no matter what I do.
The feelings of extreme hurt from being yelled at boiled over, and he bristled himself in defense, standing tall to look twice his size with his fur fluffed out. The light blue collided with the dark blue hues of his fur with unclear edges, eyes fiery with the blaze of distraught.
"I don't WANT to talk to you!"

Flippy's facial expression twisted and he took a step backward, clearly not expecting the feline to act defensively.
Truffles stormed off shaking, ignoring the look of pain from Flippy, who apparently, was now also his superior too. The men around him watched him as he went, taken aback silently by the sudden aggression the tiger displayed— or dared to display— to a higher status much greater than his own. Ignoring the pairs of eyes on his back, he opened his tent, zipped it up behind him, and began to undress himself to sleep more comfortably. He unzipped his jacket and swiped it off both shoulders, the white tank top underneath clinging to his thin frame from sweat. As he dropped it on the floor, he heard a swift knock, making his fur bristle again.