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A nurse walked into the room, she held a clip board to herself, she checked over the contents of the paper. The mink smiled to herself, happy to be able to discharge him, he seemed eager to get back to his duties. Though she'd be sad to let him go, she always liked talking to him; he seemed always there to listen. She checked over the clipboard, the wound in his leg was on the mend, though he was a little shell-shocked he'd woken up from his sleep like coma yesterday, he had been here for a week already. She quietly brushed some unseen dust from the pale pink uniform, she would be sad to let him go, after all, he was entertaining in some ways. She smiled to herself, his first question was about one of his men who got caught in the cross fire, he had risked his own neck. The nurse coughed politely at the edge of his bed, blushing heavily before peering over the top of the clip board. She gave the empty bed a curious look, her eyes trailed up to the wall. Her face paled at the halo of blood on the wall. Her eyes fell downwards tracing an invisible line, Lucian's body lay forlorn on the floor, a gun and note in his hands. She saw a foot print in the congealing blood, the tacky red sticking to the sole of her pale pink slipper. The nurse let out an ear piercing scream, before fainting on the bed. Her nurse dress crumpling; losing its once clean, confident composure; now blood soiled the pale pink dress. * * *

~On the note in Lucian's hand~

• * * The other my life ends with is one who I would have given it to save. I had tried to save him, I wanted to save him, but I could not, I failed him. His name was James. It was odd, in an almost humorous jest of fate that I should meet him. I remember the day, it was one much like all the others I had lived, yet when he walked into my life, I regained the spark that had been snuffed. It was sad how he had managed to get into my quarters, though I opened the door for him. It was again my fault it happened to him. I probably should tell you what happen shouldn't I? Well, as I said it was my fault, we were walking back from the forest, me and him had learned things about each other, though neither of us would tell the other the secrets. It's funny, looking back upon that one day. It was almost as though he was scared to leave my side, but still asked innumerous questions. I wish I had been more kind, I wish I had remembered what it was like for me, being alone. That day, it was the first time I had ever acted as I had done so, all in his defense. I could not breath during that one moment, it felt as though it stretched on through eternity... * * *

~Back from the Forest, the entrance to the trenches~---- Lucian sighed, it had been a painfully long journey, the dragon had been sulking the entire time, dragging behind the rest of the troupe. Lucian wanted to talk with Morgan, wanting to do anything other than stay here and wait for a bombshell to fall on him. Lucian turned around at the front of the long slope to the trenches. "You're dismissed." Lucian used the commanding tone he had heard Morgan use. "Even though, you were a sorry excuse for a patrol." Lucian added, not harshly but not kindly, to the general groan from the assembled men. He turned quickly and walked off into the trenches, aiming for the mess hall. The men kept their heads hung, the dragon shot evil glares, one particularly angered glare landed on James's back as he walked away towards the barracks. James stepped lightly over the mud, trying to trudge along the sodden wooden pathways. Each step he took sent up a gurgle of seeping mud from the cracks in the boards. ----~The mess hall~

• * * The mess hall, surprisingly there were few patrons in the dreaded mess hall. Lucian smiled jokingly to himself, he guessed the cooking had scared everyone off. It was a well know fictitious fact that if the guns, bombs or gases don't kill you then the chefs would. Lucian glanced around, few tables were occupied, mostly by lone generals or corporals, warming themselves over a cup of brown colored water. He spotted Morgan sitting on a far table, he looked vacantly relaxed, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, a cup of tea on his barrel chest. Lucian smiled, he could almost hear the snoring from the entrance. He walked briskly over, figuring he could always use the reporting in as an excuse. Lucian coughed loudly as soon as he drew near enough, he wondered idly if the cough could get through the snores. "Ahem?" Lucian tried, Morgan stirred, his cold tea slipped slightly in his hands. His eyes opened before the cup tipped. He righted it almost instantaneously as he placed his feet on the muddy floor and beckoned Lucian towards the seat with a large kind smile. "Don't you know it's bad luck to wake a man when he's sleeping?" Morgan joked, he set the cup down on the table, he yawned loudly and rubbed some sleep from his eyes. "I'm in the lucky thirteen's if you remember? Don't worry I'm sure there's fresh blood somewhere." Lucian followed the joke. It was known that the unit had a high turnover rate, though mostly from injury than death. It used to be said that his unit was a free ticket home. Too bad that luck had already run into even worse waters. Now they were known as 'Satan's lot' mostly due to the fact Morgan had been with the group for nearly his entire military year. Though the name came from a joke Morgan once played, he toyingly prayed to Satan asking him to save his hide. Morgan was the sole survivor from the unit after the blood bath. The name just stuck, jokes have a habit of doing that. "Yeah yeah..." Morgan sighed, he gained a faraway look momentarily. "Well what would do you want... I know this isn't about no reportan' in" Morgan smiled at Lucian, he couldn't do anything but smile back, Morgan had known him long enough to probably know what he was thinking about. There was a reason he stuck him with an extra room. It wasn't uncommon for someone with a rank that gives them private quarters, to take a favored one from a lesser rank. It happened, but wasn't talked about. The highest in command, just guffawed and turned the other cheek, punishing where publically necessary, before heading back to their own apartments. Perhaps Morgan was trying to say that he was lonely, and it was starting to show. If he let this continue, then Morgan would probably arrange for a nurse to find her way to his rooms. It was not that he did not like the idea, just that it did not seem right. Though, against his will he had to admit that the beds were cold at night. Something he had grown used to. Lucian was sure he wasn't like that, he'd seen how others would look at the new recruits as 'fresh meat' but he prayed he'd never go to that extent. He was more worried about the new private James, worried about the treatment of the other rougher troops towards him. He knew the hazing could be rough. It was for him when he was almost conscripted. He was not openly forced, more silently threatened. His father made almost constant remarks, adding to the pressure of his friends leaving as well. In the end he just could not stand it. he had to leave, now looking back on it, he could label himself weak, for giving in to everyone else's views, now he was going to die for a cause not of his own. The legacy his father wanted. He had never written home, beside the fact there was almost nothing to write about, he did not want to keep in contact with his father. He could still remember on the train platform, his mother crying, his father reserved, not uncaring or unkind, but unwilling to show it. The memory burned, but he held it, the parting words had been too harsh, from both he and his father. * * *

~The barracks~

• * * Private James had drooped onto the bed with a sigh, he'd tried to ignore the chittering of the rats the whole route through the muddy trenches. He was surprised he remembered where the bed was, he thankfully thought about the landmarks, though the mud generally swallowed anything of interest. He'd let his pack drop onto the floor as soon as he hit the pillow. The heavy weight had been mainly comprised of most of his military kit. He rolled onto his side, facing the wall, not hungry enough to get some food, but not tired enough to go to sleep. His ears flickered as the other trudged in, they groaned and mumbled in anger. The dragon was the last to enter, he moved quickly and sat heavily on his bed. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on James's back. The bear had managed to slip in with them, he was idly tending to and trying to see his back. There were thin wet lines across his uniform's back. The others rushed over to him, friendly jeering and joking at him, he waved them away, he sat down on his bed, the old cot bent slightly, he idly rubbed his shoulder, obviously waiting for something. The stag wondered in slowly, his face was bloodied, his back equally blooded. The other stared at him. They eyes accusingly silent, yet the stag continued moving through the glares, walking solemnly towards his bed, it was the first one in the front of the barracks. The dragon looked around dismissively, he nodded to one of the others, drawing the jackal over. The jackal sauntered over, his tail lolling, almost playfully. The stag sighed heavily on the bed, idly going through his things, not out of need, but to avoid eye contact. The dragon, sneered, nodding his head towards James's back, he was lively routing through his large military issue pack. The jackal sauntered back over towards his bed, idly trying to hide an expectant smile. The jackal smiled, his black and yellowish fur catching the light as he leaned to the others, whispering in barely concealed whispers. "Hazing-." The jackal's voice rose in excitement once, before he quenched the words. They waited, for a moment, each looking at the other. The jackal let his tongue slide from his mouth slightly. Panting, with barely concealed expectations. The was a brief flurry of movement, the jackal and a large Doberman had gotten up from their beds. The Doberman had thrown himself at the stag, catching him off guard. A brief blow between the velvety horns sent him limply sprawled onto the bed. Before he could back a noise. The jackal was running at James, the small fox starting to turn around, seeing the crumpled body of the stag. The jackal caught him around the mid-riff, the startled fox gave a strangled yelp as the pair fell from the bed. Landing hard on the floor boards. James felt a sharp pain jar up his left arm as he landed on the floor, beneath the jackal, the musty breath filled his nose. He tried to shout, his voice was cut short as a hand clamped around his muzzle. He tried to push the jackal off of him, but the jackal simply held him down, pressing both his struggling arms against his chest, pinning them. "Nice one Lennie." A gruff voice sounded from the other side of the bed, outside of James's view. The jackal panted, looking up at him. "Get the strap." The gruff voice announced. James heard some muffled movement, the jackal was smiling sickly. He did not get up off of James, as he had hoped. He thought they just wanted to get even with the stag, and not have James interfere. He kicked with his feet, trying to throw the jackal off, he could not get enough grip on the slick floor. The head of the Doberman appear above him, laying across the bed, staring down the narrow gap that the jackal held James in. In his hand was a leather rag. Long and thin, worn, but strong. There were sight stains of blood on the brown leather. The Doberman smiled evilly, He leant down, tying the leather around James's muzzle. Still held firmly by the jackal, who pulled his hand away at the leather was pulled tight, muffling his protests. The knot was thick, and the leather tight enough to hurt dully. He cowered underneath the jackal. Wanting to sink into the floor. The jackal abruptly hefted himself up, the Doberman rolled himself off the bed as well. In the gap between the bottom of the bed and the floor, James could see scaled feet walking heavily towards him. Talons licking on the wood. He quickly rolled to his right, pushing himself underneath his bed, his hands working furiously against the tight knot under his chin. He could not see it properly, but the leather held fast. He scrapped at it with his short claws. He worked furiously, scrabbling at the knot beneath his chin, his claws slipping and scoring a painful line across the bottom of his muzzle. He gave muffled whines of fear, trying to scrape the leather from his muzzle. He managed to work it a fraction of an inch along. The leather loosened slightly, but still kept its firm grip. A large, strong hand grippe his ankle. James gave a muffled yelp. The creature yanked harshly, making his arms give way, hitting his head on the floor, before the creature heaved, pulling him out from under the bed. He felt the floor boards catch some of his fur in niches and cracks. Before the creature hefted his upwards. James felt weightless for a moment. He saw a red blur as he was yanked upwards. It was obviously a body. He felt himself flung away, he struggled in the air, but landed on something soft. Not the floor. The bed caused him to bounce, hitting the wall behind it. His shoulder burned as it hit the wall, he was almost sure something broke. He looked up, tears welled in his eyes. His face burned where he had scraped it. He stared up at the red body, his tears blurring the patterns that adorned the ruby scales. The dragon regarded James, licking his lips. Through his tears James could see that the dragon was missing his uniform, the large leathery wings spread out behind him. The dragon took a slow step forward. James watched in horror. The full terror dawning on him, he forced himself to move, he was scared, too scared to breath, too scared to think. All he knew was at that moment he had to get away. He dive, or more threw himself from the bed. He needed to run to the door, find someone. The dragon smiled, enjoying the fear from the fox. He dived, his wings opening fully, allowing him to ram into the fox's back, knocking him to the floor. He pinned the struggling fox beneath him, using his weight to pin his legs apart, keeping a knee on each kicking leg. The fox struggled against the grip, trying to pull away from him. The dragon grabbed the flailing arms, gripping both wrists in one hand. James struggled, he could not get out from under the dragon, he could already feel something poking against his back, his tail was pinned beneath the dragon as well. He cried out, whimpering pleadingly. The leather around his muzzle blocked the noises. He looked forward, trying to pull himself free from will alone. He saw the door was closed, locked as well, probably. He heard one of the other come over again, the loud footsteps walking up behind him and to his left, slowly. He could see the Doberman sneering out of the corner of his eye, he felt his hands being pulled up, painfully high, he felt another leather strap wrapping around the wrists. Being tied painfully tight. The dragon smiled as the fox continued to struggle, his legs kicking feebly underneath him. He was going to enjoy this. Slowly he ran his hands down the fox's sides, enjoying the way the fox flinched from the touch, he moved his hands across the fox's back, listening to the mewling. He slide a long, sharp claw underneath James's trousers, before yanking it forward. Cutting through the belt and the fabric. He smiled, toyingly. James felt the dragon pull down the trousers, sliding them down his legs, revealing himself. He felt the dragon pull his tail out, lifting it free from the painful position is was in. Instinctively it curled around his rump, trying to shield it from the hungry glares. He wept openly, struggling against the dragon, feeling his tears burn in his eyes and matt the fur on his cheeks. His tail was lifted up again, being pushed upwards, before being pinned on his back with one red scaled hand. He tensed, knowing and dreading what would happen next. He felt the dragon press himself up against him. The tip of his member touching lightly against his tail hole. The dragon smiled, feeling the fox tense, the soft furred body pressed against his. He carefully pressed his tip against the tail hole, feeling the tightness. He murred loudly, watching the fox cower, and try to squirm away from him. He pressed forward swiftly. James tried to shout, tried to scream. He felt his tail hole burn as the member was forced into him. He felt his tears renew in earnest, the tears streamed down his cheeks, he silently whimpered and screamed against the leather around his muzzle. The force from the thrust had pushed him even harder against the damp floor boards. He could feel his sheath unwillingly tighten. He tensed against the intrusion into him, unable to scream, only to silently cry. He felt the dragon pull away from him, pulling out of him. He could feel the burning sensation build as the dragon started to thrust repeatedly. The dragon pushed into him again, feeling the fox's body. The hole tenses against his member, every sensation sent a bolt of pleasure down his spine. He thrust faster, feeling the fox's body slowly start to grudgingly relax, only out of exhaustion. Every thrust forward spread the tail hole farther, causing the fox's body to tense again. Sending the fur to stand on end. He looked down at the back of the fox's head, the black ears were pinned down beneath the mop of hair. The dragon growled lowly, next to the James's ears. He could taste the musty breath billowing down from the dragon. His could feel his sheath tighten as his member slowly came out, The floor boards rubbing against it, caused it to ache, out of need and pain. He tried to pull himself away again, feeling the dragon tense up. He might be able to crawl out from beneath him. Though his body felt weak, he was sweating, heavily. He could smell blood, he was too scared and in too much pain to move. He flinched at every movement of the dragon within him, and at every time his body scraped against the floor boards. The world slowed, everything blurred. The door opened with a slam. A lone gunshot echoed through James's ears, followed by a ferocious growl, before a weight fell against his back. * * *

~Mess Hall~

• * * "Now I'm sure you know full well that most generals have a - ah - spare room in their quarters..." The question had been voiced. Lucian was not sure what Morgan's thoughts were about it. Perhaps he thought he was staying loyal to a sweet heart, or that he had not found one yet. A nurse was sat behind him, a small, dainty mink. A pale dress uniform of a nurse was on her lithe body. Her brown hair fell in curls down to her shoulders. She was sat amid a gaggle of nurses, but her eyes were on him, even as she talked to the others. "Now I'm sure there is a - ah - beautiful woman, who you could share time with." Morgan coughed loudly, hitting his chest. Lucian was not sure it if was meant to be a signal to some female he should meet, or that Morgan had a bad cough. Morgan smiled at him all the same. "Now - Morgan - I'm sure that this wouldn't be some plan of your to get me to meet a young lady... now would it?" Lucian asked, suspiciously. The tiger smiled agedly. "Besides," Lucian shrugged off handedly. "You being such a lady's man... shouldn't you be with a woman rather than trying to get me one?" He added, chidingly. The tiger smirked kindly. It was not unknown of Morgan's previous reputation. "As I recall, I was more of the ladies chaser, than a 'lady's man'." The tiger laughed good heartedly. He picked up the mug of tea that had sat on the table, remarkably still warm, although, now anything not frozen was 'still warm'. He licked his lips, and his fur of any of the brown liquid that still clung to the white fur. "But you should consider the spare room... even after your much delayed promotion, you should know how cold the beds get." Morgan raised an eyebrow hinting at the possibilities. He smiled before taking another dreg from the tea cup. "I would not think that you've lasted this long, alone, even if you have a sweet heart back home." Lucian smiled, the words stung, even though they were meant kindly. He did not have a sweet heart, never did. He just tried never to think of his life before the army. Telling most people lies about his past. He was not sure why he was so ashamed, he tried never to think about why he lied. "No,' Lucian replied, after a momentary silence. "No sweet hearts... just family." He let his voice drop, not detectably. "And I know at your rate... by the end of the month I'll have more than I want." Lucian added with a smile. "Unless I can find a way to fend them off... perhaps a spear." Lucian joked. The small mink behind Morgan got up. Now Lucian was sure Morgan must have had something to do with this. He was beginning to dread the idea of finding a sweet heart here, not that he was scared of one of them dying, but that he was too cowardly to tell anyone of his background. The mink walked up behind Morgan, stooping slightly. And whispering something into his ear. Morgan smiled, the mink looked up at him, flashing him a voluptuous smile. When she stopped whispering, and Morgan stopped nodding. "Well that's good to hear, I'm sure he'll have a lot to answer for..." Morgan, stopped, following the mink's line of sight, to Lucian. He smiled, almost trying not to laugh. "This is Corporeal Lucian of squad thirteen." Morgan introduced him, summoning up his composure to stop from laughing. Lucian inwardly sighed, he guessed Morgan won this round."And this is Nurse, Elizabeth; She's here as a volunteer worker." The mink smiled at him. Lucian smiled, he swallowed his apprehension, and stood up. Trying to be as charming as he could. "My dear Elizabeth, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you." He was thankful that his black fur covered the majority of his blush. He knew that he was already the subject of much scrutiny from the fact that he was still alone. He knew gossip ran through the army quickly, pardon his squad. He was not sure if they would discover fire if left to themselves. He just could not bring himself to get close to anyone. "And to you - Lucian." The mink replied, blushing. Lucian was not sure if he was charming or just looked an idiot. The mink's tail curled and uncurled behind her, she turned, hiding a suppressed breath and a blush, before walking back to her original table. "Well someone's certainly very formal." Morgan replied, his hand on his chin in an observant posture. He could tell that it was hard for Morgan not to laugh. He could hear the stifled giggles from the table of nurses. "We should go and -question - the bear about his behavior." Morgan smiled, regaining some composure. Lucian knew the bear was in for a hard time. "I'll meet you up there, I need to check on the troops. I think they might be planning on a mutiny." Lucian replied jokingly. In truth, he wanted to check on the new recruit, he looked kind of scared of everything, he wanted to try and be comforting for the new re- for James, especially since he had been in that position before. He stood to leave. Morgan remained seated, knowing that Lucian's route would take longer. He waved him off. Picking up his tea cup again, and replacing his feet on the table. * * *

~The trenches~---- The mud slopped at the sides of the trenches, squelching loudly as he stepped on the soggy wooden planks. Some bent from years of use. Most just sunk into the mud, swallowed up by the angered nature. He walked slowly, sighing as he went. He could not help but think about what Morgan had meant during their conversation, about him needing to find a sweet heart. He knew, as sad as it sounded, that it gained respect. He never wanted to become that. He guessed it came from the idea of normality. He kicked a rat that had strayed into his way. The vermin squeaked as it hit the soft muddy trench wall. It was not hard enough to damage the rat, just hard enough to stun it. He walked on, turning down the final twist in the labyrinth of trenches. He regarded the door momentarily as he walked up to it. The sign that displayed the crudely painted number of their squad hung limply. The nail come loose, from mold, and other vermin. He heard grunts from inside. Lucian sighed, he was in no mood, to break a fight. It was odd. He was used to the sounds fights made. Yet, there was only the sound of one person. Lucian unholstered his gun. Not entirely sure why he did that. He tried to open the door. Oddly it was locked. Unusual, as the barracks doors don't have locks. Lucian took a step back before raising his right leg. He struck the door savagely, the plank that had been propped against the door snapped like tinder. His kick sent the door swinging, hard enough that it would not swing closed. The sight shocked him. The first sight he registered. The first sight he saw. Was James; pressed against the ground, his arms behind his back. Tears staining his face, the leather strap biting into his fur. Then he saw the dragon on top of him. Lucian swiftly moved his arm up, knowing what was happening, the dragon naked on top of him, James struggling beneath. The gunshot was a whisper in his ears. All eyes fell on him. The dragon bellowed loudly, before falling forward. The others stared at him. Some were already naked, their members engorged and waiting. Others only half dressed. Lucian looked around, almost in disbelief. The stag lay on his bed, slowly stirring. He was the only one in uniform. James struggled out from underneath the dragon. He managed to crawl out of his trousers, simply running, trying to undo the leather straps around his wrists; he ran over to Lucian, cowering behind him. He was crying. Lucian could feel hatred build up inside him, a burning sensation racing up from his heart, he wanted to kill them. No. Not only kill them all, but make them understand what pain truly meant. The thoughts came quickly, a torrent around him of unspeakable acts. Yet one spoke above the others. 'why'? Why did he want to do that, over a new recruit. He knew it was not entirely about the act. Perhaps it was to do with the recruit? He felt a knot of fear grow inside him. He wondered. He stared at them, his gun unwavering, James cowered behind him; trying to work loose the leather around his wrists. He crouched down, curling his tail around himself, trying to shield his nakedness from the others. Lucian saw the slight blood, dripping down from the base of the large vulpine tail. "What is bloody hell is happening!" He heard a ferocious roaring yell from behind him. Morgan ran up to Lucian. Fury glowering in the feline's eyes, he stared, his face visibly changing colors beneath the fur. Lucian could distinctly smell the musky scent of fear as Morgan turned on the men. Lucian knew he was silently dismissed, he would be shouted at later, much later by the look in the tiger's eyes. This was something that they would live to regret. Though, he was not sure if 'live' was the right word for it. He brushed the thoughts roughly away. Turning away from the doorway, he simply dropped the gun. Letting it land heavily in the slick mud, sending a slight splatter on his uniform's leg. The fox looked tearfully up at him, clutching his tail tight against his body. He crouched down, staying silent, gently and slowly spreading his arms to the side. Lucian saw, truly saw, how young the fox was. Old enough that he looked at the most a very young eighteen year old. But that face was lost, washed away with the tears. Lucian felt a pang in his chest, guilt. It was his fault the fox had ended up in his regiment. If he had not taken that stroll; picking up the new recruits. He should have seen how young the fox was then. He could have sent the boy back. Now it would be too late, very few cars traveled up to the trenches. Only supply wagons, and they were guarded, to stop any hitch hikers. Lucian sighed, compelling himself to move. The fox hugged his knees, the tail coiled around himself, fluffed out in agitation. The rags of the fox's uniform hung loosely; the mud drying on the harsh fabric. He tried to smile, knowing it would do little to reassure the fox. He slide his right hand gently between the crouched legs, letting the fox's knees rest on his arm. His other hand went to the fox's back. Tenderly lifting the fox up; almost cradling him in his arms. He turned, and stood, briskly away from the barracks. {[Okay I'm not generally big on rape and bondage, but this is a one off thing as I needed a way to progress the story.}}