The General

Today was such a good day! In the twilight of the morning, we prepped the camp; sidewalks were swept, windows were washed, barracks were cleaned, crisp flags were raised. The camp looked almost new by the time we had finished. After breakfast, the captain ordered distribution of our new uniforms. Blue wool. They had been ironed, edges sharp. It felt different, wearing clothes that fit, not feeling the cool breeze drift through worn holes. They felt heavier on my shoulders. But I was warm for the first time since fall had crept into the pines. I did notice my lack of buttons compared to the others. It’s the first time I cared. But I’m different. They don’t have a four paws button. Zeno had six. By far the most. But who cares? I’ll be gone soon, anyway.

We stood in rows. I tried to stand straight, my shoulder back and head held high, listening to the whipping of the flag high above. The grinding of carriage wheels quickened my pulse. I was moments from earning my freedom. Following the black carriage were twenty black horses, marching in unison. The carriage continued, a black hawk flying low under the pines. I could barely keep from bouncing with joy as they stopped. We waited forever, while the soldiers set up the perimeter. I could see their training as they moved. They had graduated from this camp, no doubt. And now they were out. Just like me.

He stood tall, a giant even compared to Captain. His shoulders were so broad; I bet he could pick up a house without much trouble. But his eyes, dark brown, they cut through us. He saw us in our best uniforms, standing without a sway…unimpressed. In fact, the same frown cut his face for the entire time…with one exception. Captain first had me run an obstacle course. I jumped over walls and weaved through debris at record breaking speed, all while the boys threw things at me. They volunteered happily, but no one hit me. I was too quick. I looked at him, wanting to impress, but he remained stone.

Then, came the battlefield. We divided into two colors, except for me. Everyone knew I was on team red. Their swords were wood sticks with sponges dipped in their team’s color. I had to forget about him for a time, focusing on “killing” as many as I could. I stalked the outskirts, watching them. I knew these boys. I knew their movements. When the opportunity presented itself, I attacked. I threw them to the ground, pushing a painted paw against their necks. I wasn’t with a victim for more a few seconds. I cut threw them, driven to take them out, to prove my worth. It was thrilling. When the whistle blew and I turned around I saw it. It was ever so slight, but when we met gazes the corners of his lips turned. He left, but I know I’m getting out of here. Soon.