FSE

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"Fuck..."

Ryan grumbled with the effort of getting out of his own hole. He had needed to hook the blade of his shovel up onto the surface and try to pull himself up. This may sound like a simple task, but it took the coyote many, many attempts.

He pulled himself out in perfect timing, it seems. Hooking his leg up onto the cracked ground before he managed to pull his shaky legs up and over. Exhausted, he lay on the ground. Huffing in steam.

"Got fight in ye."

Ryan eyes widened in momentary surprise, as this wasn't a voice he'd heard before. It was the deepest of the lot, crackly - as though it were coming from sick lungs.

The dark bird then stepped out from the darkness, coughing into his wing.

What was more menacing, though, was this untreated silence that was growing between them, like a standoff. Ryan peered over at the horizon, taking in the orange rays of dusk. It'd be the perfect time for a standoff too.

"Er - thanks." Ryan finally said.

The bird stepped forward and Ryan shook his wing. His expression was rather flat, as though he'd seen too many things die throughout his lifetime. His eyes were friendly though, showing signs of sparks and life unlike the rest of him. A bird's age was usually difficult to decipher. They looked the same throughout their entire lifespans, usually. Ryan guessed from the others that this one would be around his age, maybe a bit older.

"I was tryna get that shovel," Said the bird, grinning. "But a handshake'l do I guess."

"Oh." Ryan said, "sorry" he quickly gave the bird his shovel. He'd been holding it for so long that it almost felt like he was giving away one of his limbs.

"No worries..."

The bird coughed hazily, not bothering to cover his beak with his wing, and walked off his own way.

Ryan wondered how long he had been waiting there with his shovel. Then, from the bird's curtness, as well as the other holes, he began to wonder how quickly the others had finished their holes on their first days at this camp. Back when they were the freshy. Back when it was they who had their ass laughed off by the other boys.

By the time he had gotten back to his tent, Ryan felt so stiff in the knees that he could hardly walk. On opening his tent, he was surprised to find Mortar sitting up in his bed, his paws busily working on something.

He noticed Ryan and quickly stuffed whatever it was under his pillow.

Ryan peered at him with curiosity, and it occurred to him that this was the first time he had made eye-contact with his roommate upon meeting him. He knew better than to ask. But he did anyways: "What you got there?"

The bear grumbled.

Ryan rolled his eyes, too tired to pry. He also didn't care enough to, and in seconds his eyes were closed, his arms were behind his head, and he was already dosing off.

After a while, he rolled onto his side. It was quite amazing, but what was keeping Ryan awake was the bear's lack of snoring. After a while, the coyote slowly opened one eye.

He saw the tiny silhouette of a teddy-bear suspended above Mortar, as the larger bear played with it, making somewhat of a puppet show against the tarp walls.

The coyote smiled, watching the scenes being silently acted out. He could see a sort story to it, as the Teddy bear took on different characters, frolicked over to different places. One time, he even saw Mortar attempt to create a shadowy shape with his massive paw, scrunching it up experimentally. He was trying to make a dog. Or a rabbit? It was very hard to tell.

After a while Ryan simply couldn't help himself:

"That's pretty cool."

Suddenly the puppet show was over. He watched the teddy bear disappear out of sight in a split second, and Mortar layer silent in his bed.

There was seemed to stretch on forever. "Don't fucking think about telling anyone." Mortar said gruffly. "I'll rip your arms off."

"I won't."

Mortar ignored him.

"I liked the storyline. Reminded me of..." Ryan had forgotten. "...something."

The bear stayed silent.

Ryan was too tired to keep prying. He rolled over onto his side and tucked his bushy tail between his legs to keep it warm. The nights could be surprisingly cold here, the breeze blowing red against everything that moved, the moon shining pale light over the camp.

It was quiet without Mortar's snores, he could hear distant things going on. His coyote eyes picked up the distant coughs, most likely coming from whatever tent the bird slept in. He could also hear the faint outlines of conversation, Kyle's voice, almost, and then there was a few gruff words from Bandit thrown here and there.

"You wanna see?"

Ryan turned his head, feeling as though a curse was placed on his to eternally be kept awake.

Mortar had a candle burning, and he held his little teddy bear, which funnily looked like a much smaller version of himself. With his gruff paws, he made the teddy wave to the coyote.

Ryan waved back tiredly.

"How'd you manage to sneak him in?"

Mortar shook his head. "Didn't. I made him."

"Good job."

Ryan turned back over to face the wall, confident that he'd be left to sleep now.

"You tuck your tail when you sleep."

The coyote sighed. "So?"

"If you tell anyone, I'll tell them you tuck your tail."

Ryan forced his eyes awake and turned to peer at Mortar, realising that he couldn't just let this go. "Mortar, mate." He said. "I couldn't care less about your fucking teddy. Now drop it."

Even though he was pretty sure that saying this would make the bear come over and maul him to death in his sleep, he was past the point of caring. To Ryan, at this point, death was just a chance to sleep in.

To his surprise, the bear didn't look angry in those last few seconds that his eyes were open. In fact, the bear looked quite hurt. His brown ears folded back, and he turned over without saying a word.

Now it was guilt that kept Ryan awake.

"If it makes you feel better," The coyote mumbled. "I used to have a tiny coyote I always played with."

The bear seemed to be ignoring him. After a while, though, he actually heard the bear silently crying to himself.

"He was called Wally. He liked hugs and the smell of pine needles. When I was just a pup, I would bring him out into the forest to give him both."

Mortar sniffled.

"and I loved the lil' guy so much." Ryan smiled.

"On my first day of kindergarten, I felt bad that he had to stay home while I was out enjoying the world. So, on my second day, I made the risky decision to bring him along with me.

" I had tucked him into the front pocket of my bag so he was comfortable. And, so he wouldn't get claustrophobic, I had made a hole in the bag and let his head poke up out of it."

I noticed that the bear had turned his head towards me, silently listening.

"On the third day, my dad dropped me at school so early that the only company I had were these older boys, playing with cigarettes on the playground.

"I was naive. I was just a pup, so of course I thought they'd be friendly. I asked if they wanted to play tag... and then... next thing you know, I'm on the ground.

"And they've got my bag, and they're burning holes into it with their cigarettes... until they find Wally. Poking his head out, a small smile on his muzzle."

Mortar stared.

The coyote bit his lip, "They ripped his ears off."

They shared a silence for a while, and Ryan could have sworn that they were looking at each other's eyes from across the darkness.

He sighed, and rolled onto his back, staring up at the plastic ceiling that faintly glowed in the moon's light.

"There you go," Ryan closed my eyes. "There's something to tell the boys..."