Rising Conflicts.

Chapter Five.

First Nightfall.

—

Day - 0001 - Wednesday

Hour - 20:07:44

Barsah, Iraq.

Cpl. Nathan Llyod.

—

An hour earlier...

Leaning silently against our team's humvee, I observe the figures walking about. Everyone is toting guns with them as they move the injured or just some boxes and gear around. The HVT we risked our lives with stands behind another one of the Anthro's armored trucks. Talking with an otter, who seems to be the one in charge, another anthro stands by the wolf. 

A bright white fox, with some strange red markings on her from what I can see over here. Before I can make anything of the anthro, a marine comes jumping down from the top of our humvee. Landing directly on my right, he takes in a deep breath, covered in dust and grease. Clapping his hands together, trying to brush off the grime that stains his gloves, he takes in a deep breath while looking off into the distance. 

What his eyes rest on, is the sun, peaking slightly over a few buildings in the sky, slowly but surely setting over the burning city and the surrounding empty deserts.

Lcpl. Milton: "For how much this place is a shit hole, these sunsets sure beat the ones back in Richmond." The marine lets out.

He takes in a deep breath, reaching into one of his vest pouches, and taking out a box of cigarettes, that look pretty crumpled up. He takes out a stick, and places it between his lips, with a slight glance at me, he then extends his arm over to me. Glancing at the cigarettes, I silently return my eyes forward, but with Milton nearly shoving the box into my face, I'm forced to speak.

"Stop." I let out, not angered, but more annoyed.

A smile breaks onto his lips before he speaks, still holding the box near my face for some reason.

Lcpl. Milton: "Come on man, enjoy something in your life for once." He tells me with a smug expression.

Brushing away him and his cigarettes with a quick flick of my hand, "Not telling you again Milton." I let out.

Lcpl. Milton: "You're the most boring marine out here." The marine tells me.

With a deep disappointed breath, he retracts his hand and places the pack back into his pouch, making sure it's closed before turning his head back to me before speaking.

Lcpl. Milton: "Ya mind lighting?" He asks for my lighter.

I turn my eyes to him, looking him up and down before shaking my head. "Not after that." Saying to the marine before turning my eyes to my front.

A sigh leaves the marine, as he removes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it in one of his hands. Silence follows as we both stand around the Humvee. Keeping my eyes ahead, I return to watching the anthros from a distance, the white anthro fox now looks over the wolf we saved from the building behind us. 

He seems annoyed at the fox, even with his body language giving that away, the fox continues to check over the wolf. There are other anthros around the truck, but none of them catch my eye. Shifting my vision away from that group of anthros, my eyes end up landing on an Abrams a few dozen trucks behind the lead truck with the HVT.

Standing on top of the Abrams, just in front of the main gun, is a shorter-height anthro. Wearing a normal tanker helmet and camo fatigues, she looks over the right lip of the tank's turret, holding a flashlight as she does. Taking a glance over to Milton, I shove myself off the side of the humvee and start to walk over towards the humvee.