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"But daddy!" I yelled, across the table.

He slammed his clenched paws on the wooden table and screamed.

"God-damnit boy! You aint got it in any otha' way in this, this what them bastards want, this is what we give im'!"

I sat back in my chair and lowered my muzzle and stared at my legs as daddy continued yelling. He explained how the men he was standing against were the same ones that had killed my mom, my baby sister, my family. I rarely argued with him, but he was asking me to risk my life, along with him, in a cause I didn't give a care about. Just because the country split up didn't mean me and daddy had to stress about the farm. But that argument didn't stifle my daddy in the least.

"Them yank's aint gonna just walk on my land, take MY wife, MY cub and expect me ta bow ta that fuckin' king they got in washintin' they sick, I tell ya what, boy! You gonna have my back on this too, er I'll tan yer damn hide!" It wasn't any use talking to him anymore, he was drunk, and in a fit of rage, I knew what was coning the next day.

I glanced back up at the table, at the enlistment papers daddy had brought from the postmaster's office, one signed by daddy, one he forced me to sign. Momma had taught me to read, a skill daddy insisted that was for "sissies or man of the cloth, and you aint look like a priest ta me boy." We already had rifles, a fancy 5 round one from new York, and a classic musket from Carolina. Daddy said we were going to arrive on base with our neighbors next Wednesday.

Our neighbors were the Cliff's a family of skunks from Texas, or what's left of the family that was. Mr. Cliff lost his wife and young son to illness a few years back, and he saw to it that me and his boy, Michael were firm friends. Only problem was, Michael was not yet 10, he couldn't read, write, work or tell a good story to save his little life, so most of the time we just sat in my daddy's barn and talked about critters we saw. Michael didn't understand anything in the big world, he didn't know he was about to sign his life away, he was probably asleep, huddled in his room with a bunch of animal dolls fit for a lad much younger. On top of the boy's ignorance of news, he was also an emotional wagon wreck, he'd cry if it was too hot, he'd cry if his daddy was drunk, he'd cry if I didn't play with him, or if I played too rough, and he was goning to be lined up next to me in the 98th Georgia line infantry regiment. I could already see myself helping him tie his boots, load his rifle, clean his uniform, scout for food. Sweet as the little boy was, he was not army material.

I looked back up at my dad who was in the middle of a rant about the "money grubbers" taking from those who deserve it. I didn't care about money, I didn't care about government, I didn't care who the president was, I just wanted to feel safe. I wanted the war to be over, for my daddy to calm down. I'd gladly play with Michael Cliff for the rest of eternity if this war were to end by the next Wednesday.

It did not...

Michael sat next to me on the wagon ride to the train station, he talked of flowers and a squirrel he had seen on Sunday. On the train, he talked about grass, how it felt in his paws, and what it smelt like, He talked about corn, butter, turkey, and milk. By the time we had arrived at the Virginia station, his talking had made me feel bloated.

We unloaded our bags and were escorted to a large gathering of furs dressed in grey. A young wolf sat at a wooden table with a tablet of paper calling out names and asking for ages to verify that we were who we claimed to be. My daddy was called first, then myself,

"Thomas Yoteful"

"Here!"

"Your age sir?"

"44!"

"Tyco Yoteful"

"H-here, sir"

"Your age, son?"

"20, sir"

My dad slapped my shoulder with his paw and announced to me,

"Ya did it boy, ya'll a real confederate naw."

I smiled and nodded, at least he was proud, that was something. It was a while before the Cliff's were called, I heard Michael respond as "10" the wolf at the table didn't even flinch, he knew another fur with a rifle and boots was another step closer to victory. We were eventually led from the train station down a dirt road to a small town, few furs were populating the city limits as we passed through and continued on to a distant military encampment. A large collection of tents in a circle.

My daddy handed me the musket from our home with a pouch of cartages, and walked away without a word, he was a little anxious to fight, I could see it in his walk, he was ready to stand for his country on the field of battle. I was eventually approached by a strong young elk who stated,

"a young man, name of Cliff claims you and him are friends, he is too young to be assigned a bunk alone, so I'll put you with him. You are going to be in tent 6, next to medical, Your uniform and boots are ready for you on your cot, oh and please make sure the little one doesn't leave the tent during the night."

I nodded in reply and walked towards the tan colored tent that stood next to the main tent covered in bold red crosses.

I entered the tent, it was a roomy military tent with 3 cots, one next to the flap and two against the rear of the structure. There was a small wooden desk with a pile of maps and charts with a pen sitting next to it. I looked at the first cot and saw the little skunk that had shared so many summer days with me now sitting on the cot holding a revolver in his tiny paws, dressed in my uniform, it was several sizes too big. He glanced over at me with a huge smile and yelled,

"Tyco! We finally get to really play cowboys and Indians!"

I almost cried, there was my neighbors little cub standing in the coat and boots that I would likely die in. I stepped towards the little guy and whispered,

"Yea, its gonna be great, all of these furs are going to go play with us too, the whole country wants to play. Furs all the way in new York are gonna come down and play the cowboys, were gonna be the Indians, and we gotta make sure they don't take out tepee's"

Michael nodded vigorously and waved his revolver in the air shouting "pow! Take that cowboys!" I smiled a little, his positive attitude could save him, he could have gone to lead a full and happy life after this, he could survive, he would, I would make sure of it. As I fought back a chuckle and began taking my uniform back, two more young furs walked into the tent, a tall thickly built Elk, and a lanky, twitchy puma. Both were dressed in the grey uniforms identical to the one I held in my paws, and held rifles much like I had seen outside. They passed me silently and shook their heads at Michael's attire. The pair walked to the back of the tent and laid down in the cots near the back.

I broke the silence by asking,

"Ya'll got names?"

"Fuck you, mutt" Was all I got in response, I didn't bother to look which one had said it.

"Aint use tellin names when we gonna have all new bunk mates tomorra, some farmboy faggots like ya'll two aint lastin a day aut here by my bet." Replied the other.

I lowered my head as Michael began to argue back, "Me an' Tyco aint no farmboys, he knows how to read and shoot!" I shook my head as the elk stood up and walked to the side of my cot he said in an enraged whisper,

"MY daddy an MY brother knew haw ta shoot too, naw they six feet under, same field yella furs like ya'll two gonna be under in a day er two."

Michael grabbed onto my arm with both paws, I grabbed him, sat him in my lap and whispered,

"I won't let anyone hurt you, buddy."

Michael was sniffling as the elk returned to his bunk and scoffed at my pitiful performance.

As the sun set, I didn't question the sleeping arrangement, I stayed with Michael all night as he whimpered and continued to ask,

"What happened ta us jest playin' cowboys an Indians?"

The morning came too soon, I threw on my uniform and boots, then helped Michael into some plain work attire they had provided for recruits under 14 years old. We were then called by name to meet our commanding officer, a tall, gruff badger named Jeremiah. He explained that Michael and I were being grouped in with a platoon of other young furs that were delivering letters back and forth from Carolina, Georgia, Virginia, and Florida. He handed me a new styled rifle with a bunch of cartages inside it already, he also provided me with a slip of paper that read The Confederate States of America Ten Dollars.

Michael and I were then led to a small clearing behind the tents, there was a small group of furs, very young furs to be exact. We were told this was out new regiment.

There were 3 furs already standing around, all in uniform; the first was a young orange fox, not any older than 12 years, then there was a white rabbit, again could not have been older that 12, and the last was a Tiger, he was likely around 16 or 17. Though all of the furs held rifles in their paws the tiger was clearly the leader, he stood a good 5 inches tall than the other two, just an inch shorter than I, he approached me and reached his paw out to shake, as I took his in mine, he exclaimed,

"Name's Ernest, whats yours?"

"Tyco" I responded as I took his paw, I gave him a small grin and introduced Michael, "This here's my friend Michael"

Michael smiled up at the tiger and announced,

"we's bein' postmen today!"

Ernest let out a light chuckle and replied, "Sure we are, little guy, were gonna' to bring a message to a camp across state."

Michael looked ecstatic at the opportunity to not only play cowboys and Indians, but postman as well. He was the lucky one, ignorance was indeed bliss for the cubs involved in this. After that, the other boys came up and introduced themselves, then we headed out, eastward towards the confederate outpost outside Horsemint Virginia, a good 95 miles due east. Seeing we had no mount, no wagon and 3 cadets under 16 years of age and were only issued 10 Confederate dollars for emergency supplies, it was slow traveling, with a lot of complaining.

Michael grew tired often and required me to carry him for as long as a mile at a time. On the second day of our journey we passed through a farm, a young vixen dressed in work attire stared at us from the front porch of the farmhouse. The fact that such young furs were in uniform and armed seemed to have caught her undivided attention. Ernest tipped his hat to the fox lady, but she just kept starring, perplexed by the army cubs. By nightfall of the second day we could walk no longer, Ernest pulled us off the road and into a field of very tall grass, he explained that we were to rest until sunrise, he and I would take shifts on lookout for yank's. I agreed and helped get Michael ready for sleep as the other boys laid down in their uniforms and began to snore immediately. Michael forced me to sleep next to him until my shift as he was frightened of snakes and other things getting him. I laid down on my coat, next to Michael who grabbed me and huddled closely as if by instinct, but it was nothing new, I had a flashback to him and I playing in the barn the previous summer; I nodded off after a race though the field and woke up with his little black paws wrapped around my back. I eventually fell asleep only to be woken up 3 hours later by Ernest who explained,

"Its yer turn naw, wake me up just as the sun rises, I'll make some breakfast fer us before the cubs get up, they gonna be bottomless pits after today's walk."

I smirked at him as he took my place next to Michael in the grass.

Keeping watch was boring, I heard; frogs, owls, snakes, feral wolves and coyotes, crickets and cicadas but not one Yank. I stayed awake until the sun began to highlight the horizon a deep red, then I walked back over to wakeup Ernest. He thanked me and went about opening his pack to provide me with some breakfast, a canteen of cold coffee and some stale bread, it was truly a meal fit for the divine.

After I ate, the sun was showing over the grass and the cubs arose, hungry, just as Ernest had predicted. I gave Michael some of my bread and a sip of the coffee, but had little else to offer, he began to whimper. I was a little irritated that his daddy had even signed him up. The boy was a sweet soul, and he really loved his friends and family, but that was all the little guy had going for him, he couldn't read, write, shoot, run, work a field, stand heat or cold and he could definitely not deal with hunger. I backed away and began to dress myself as Michael continued to whimper about not eating his fill. Ernest, Charles (the fox), Harry (the rabbit) and I all recollected out gear and began talking about the day's journey. We agreed that taking the back roads would help avoid any troublesome yank's all the while Michael had just finished getting redressed while sulking about his empty tummy. I picked the little skunk onto my shoulders and began leading the group down the road, after a short distance Michael had forgotton about his hunger and was enjoying the scenery. I pointed out random objects and made wild stories about their origins to keep his interest. I explained that grass was not only good to lay on, but in china they would string it together into lassos to capture flying dragons, and how trees used to get up and walk around, they were nice enough, but they could still step on you. Michael 'ooh'd and awwe'd' as I explained as the other boys laughed, but as long as he wasn't complaining I could deal with it. Just afternoon we arrived in a small town, about 40 miles from horsemint, they had a general goods store and a doctor's office.

We stopped in the store and purchased some bread and dried meat with some whiskey for Ernest who began complaining about his back the moment he laid his eyes on the bottle. I smirked and paid the fur his 2 dollars then we continued on the road towards Horsemint. The road was a simple dirt, regardless of wither we were entering, leaving or not near a town. From time to time there would be potholes or wagon trails but other than that the road served its purpose. By the end of the day we could see the light pollution from what had to have been Horsemint. But the night was dark, cold and windy Ernest decided it would be best if we waited for the morning. So on that call, we stepped off the road, back into the tall grass, the cubs ate a little and went to sleep while I took the first watch. Several furs walked along the road in the middle of the night, one on a horse with a lantern and one by paw, he was singing a monotone song, something in French or Cajun, the words were plain, emotionless and so very cold such coldness struck fear into me. As the moon caught him in the right light I could see the grey of his coat, he was a solder like us, but he didn't hold a gun, or a hat, or even wear boots, he just had the uniform, possibly a solder on break out for a stroll, or scouting without boots for silent movements, nut most likely he was a coward, running from the slim chance of a battle. I woke Ernest up after the solder had crossed out of my sight, and told the tiger to take my post. I returned to Michael's side and was quickly taken by exhaustion.

Several hours later Ernest woke me up and we snacked on some bread, meat and a little sip of whiskey each, his much longer than mine. After that we woke up the cubs and got them ready for the last day of our venture.

As we continued on the road Ernest exclaimed,

"We cant have more than 4 miles left, we made it!"

Michael and I smiled; out first assignment was a complete success. We continued walking and soon we could see the small town, and just behind it, we could see the edges of the military outpost, several tents and a tall wooden watch tower. We began to enter the town after a few minutes of walking, many of the citizens greeted us with smiles and waves, but many shut their doors to avoid trouble. We passed through without a word, we would return a wave or two from supporters and flash smiles at loyal confederates, but we knew we were crossing contested territory.

Eventually we crossed out of the town and were greeted by a large circle of tents nearly identical to the ones we had left not but 3 days before. Ernest and I were greeted by a young wolf officer who introduced himself as Richard. We talked for a brief moment about the journey then gave Richard the package and information that was intended for the commanding officer. He thanked us and scampered off, leaving Ernest and I to look after the cubs once more. Luckily we had a tent assigned to us, Michael and I would again share a cot, but I had no complaints when faced with the chance to get a nice 8 hours of sleep. After leaving our gear in the tent, Michael and I split from the group to find food that was hopefully hot. As we approached the campfire in the center of the tent circle, I noticed a roundly fellow handing out plates of food to solders. It appeared to just be yellow rice and beans, but compared to dried beef with stale bread and harsh whiskey it sounded like heaven. He gave me and Michael big smiles as he gave us healthy portions of food from a large cast-iron pot.

My little buddy and I sat on the grass outside our tent and scarfed down the food with our bare paws. Hunger had made me a little shaky and twitchy, but in my haste to fill my aching tummy; I had eaten too fast and was growing weary. After Michael had finished I grabbed him by the paw and led him back into the tent for a nap. As we entered the tent however the other boys looked at us with smirks.

Harry let out a chuckle as he examined, "Been doin' this fer 3 months an' that was my first lesson, aint eat quick on an empty belly."

I nodded and laid under the coarse blanket with Michael huddled close. We both fell asleep in under a minute.

It couldn't have been a minute before I was jarred awake by a nearby gunshot. I slowly snuck out from under Michael and stepped out of the cot, covering him back up. I threw on my boots and jacket, grabbed my rifle and rushed out into the mass panic that was just previously the camp. A solder had been shot by a nearby sniper and several furs had rushed off to find the gunman while others attended to the injured solder's wound. I asked every fur that passed me what was happening but was told to "fuck off kid" about a dozen times. Eventually I found Richard, the wolf from earlier and I quickly asked him what was going on.

He explained that he had heard word that the yank's had received word about the base from a spy and we were expecting an attack. I was then given order to gather my unit and return to the camp from once we came. I argued that I had only had a moment of rest and we had little food for the journey, but Richard insisted that I take the young one's and flee. He raised his paw to me for a shake and quietly said,

"I wish we could have met at a different time, maybe when this war's over we'll get some coffee."

I smiled and replied, "You can count on me"

He lowered his gaze to my footpaws and quietly asked, "Your name's Tyco, right?"

I nodded as he continued, "I like that name, almost like I heard it before."

I nodded at the clearly drunk wolf and replied, "Common name, sir, now, I should be off."

With that I retreated to my tent, I noticed the other boys were quietly getting their gear together as to not wake Michael who was still snoozing on my cot, hugging my hat close to his chest. I inched towards Michael and scooped him up, covers and all into my arms. I laid his head over my shoulder and cradled him with my left arm while I held my bag and rifle with my right. I looked over at Ernest and asked,

"So, have you got any orders?"

He nodded and replied,

"Orders are, we are not to fight unless we gotta' we gonna head back to base er die here, yank's aint gonna come with some bitch platoon."

I nodded and replied,

"After you, sir."

Harry and Charles looked dumbfounded and in awe struck a straight stance and saluted Ernest. The tiger merely smiled back and mouthed a "thank you" to me, and before I knew it, all 3 of us were following Ernest back to the road we had come in on. Michael still sleeping in my arm, drooling on my shoulder was a light load to carry, he never had bulked up like most cubs his age. But aside from our gear and rifles, all that we had was each other, 5 young fur's with rifles sounded like a dangerous force to me.

The walk was long, and the sun was unforgiving, it was several miles until Michael had woken up from his rest, he let out a small yawn and quietly asked where his father was. I smiled and replied,

"Something's come up, we headin back to camp, just go back to sleep and we'll be there before you know it."

Michael glanced from side to side to see the smiling faces of Charles and Harry, Ernest was taking lead. With another moment of hesitation Michael laid back down on my shoulder and fell asleep. My arm was aching like all get out, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle, Ernest on the other hand was beginning to wobble back and forth, he had got even less rest than I had, not to mention eating far less than anyone else. I offered him a chance to sit down but he barked back,

"Leader don't sit down, ya wanna sit I'll wait fer ya though."

I nodded and exclaimed,

"Okay, I need to rest, and get a drink."

He lowered his head and sighed,

"okay, we gonna take a break then."

We all fell into the tall grass on the side of the trail, waking Michael up again, he hugged to me tighter and whined into my chest. I patted his back and told him we were just having a sit. We sat quietly in the grass and I glanced around, admiring the foliage.

The leaves were bright green, as was the grass, the sky was a pure blue, occupied only by that heinous sun. The sounds of birds and crickets echoed through the empty field we sat in, until several explosions echoed from the direction of Horsemint. Cannon and artillery fire must have been hitting the camp, as they had no cannons themselves. Ernest glanced around and explained,

"We need to keep movin, but we aint got water left, there plenty of whiskey though but Michael gets first go, he easy nuff to carry."

I smiled at Michael, he had never drunk more than a light red wine, and now he would be out of his little mind. Ernest handed Michael the bottle, and the little skunk just looked at the brown liquid inside, he glanced up to me and all I could do was whisper,

"it's okay, it'll get you ta sleep then, we'll be there before you know it."

With that, Michael tipped the bottle back and took a few big swigs of the heavy liquor. His little eyes went wide and he grabbed onto me screaming as it ravaged his sensitive mouth, tongue and throat. He fell into a crying fit as the alcohol fell from his throat to his stomach, I rubbed his back lightly and passed the bottle to Charles who took it a little slower seeing Michael's reaction. I had held Michael as he cried more times than I could count by that point so I knew the proper way to go about it. He'd cry on my shoulder for a few minutes and then on my chest, and then he'd fall asleep huddled against my side. Only difference was, Michael didn't stop crying, he shook his head over and over trying to stop the burning but it apparently didn't work. After a few attempts he lost his temper and began pounding his tiny fists on my chest in frustration and pain, tears streaming down his face all the while. I lifted him up to cry on my shoulder again, but instead of just crying out, while his head was next to mine, he asked me in a cracking, half sobbed voice,

"W-why'd you make me do that, T-tyco? Aint we b-buddies?" I hugged him close and replied,

"Yea, we's buddies Michael, and the pain's gonna go away real soon like, just be still, I've got you." He began to cry softly again as the bottle was again passed to me, having made its way around to Harry and Ernest as well. But I refused it and slapped the cork back in, handing it to Ernest. I grabbed my gear in my right paw again, Michael still crying softly in my left, and arose to return to the trail. We weren't on the trail long before I took note of the alcohol taking it's toll on Michael, he began to mumble, calling for his "mommy" while still sobbing softly on my shoulder. I had seen furs have a lot of fun with whiskey, but they must have been doing something different.

By sundown Ernest was tired as we all were and decided we stray off the path into a nearby wooded area. The heavily forested area provided a deep cover, which Ernest explained would rid us of our need to keep watch, we simply laid down and went to sleep beneath the trees.

Sometime, just before sunrise I was awoken by the sound of marching. I quietly slipped from Michael's side to the edge of the forest to see the cause of the unearthly racket.

It was row after row of Yank troops, there had to be well over a thousand furs in blue with rifles, on horses or pushing cannons marching through the field just a hundred meters or so from us. Many of the furs looked big and burly, some looked young, some old, but none as young as us. A tall, muscular lion in a fancy gold and blue suit rode on a white horse between two regiments of solders. He held a saber in his left paw and the flag of the union in his right, he had a blue hat with gold trim on his head. This lion was obviously the leader of the group, but he didn't shout orders, he just marched alongside his men, he wasn't a king like my daddy had told me the northern generals were, he was there in line with his fellow furs. But reality set in and I realized that we were in a lot of trouble, this marching army could only meant that Horsmint had fallen to the union advance, so I rushed back into the woods to warn Ernest.

Just after my momma had died, my granddaddy would often tell me,

"There's a time where a fur's gotta choose, ya gonna be a man? Ya gonna be strong? Ya tough? Ya gonna stand fa ya kin? Ya gonna take what's commin to ya? Or are ya gonna lay on you back like a bitch?"

That was all I could think as I returned to the boys, they were now awake, and two union troops had them sitting in a circle, one was pointing a rifle at them as the other was binding their paws with rope. I raised my rifle slowly and brought the sight to my eye, I stepped towards the union furs and exclaimed,

"you pointin a gun at Michael? You pointin a gun at MY boy?!" I was snarling, blind with rage, the union fur with the gun looked up in surprise and I noticed his face. His muzzle was long and thin, shaped like he was some sort of desert dog. His partner, the one with the rope also looked up, he was a orange fox, but their looks didn't matter none. What mattered was I saw Michael crying, leaning against Harry's side as he was probably experiencing his first hangover and cubnapping in the same minute. "Huh?!" I shouted, "You think you gonna waltz up and snatch MY boy?" I began to chuckle, the furs, obviously thought it was just the four boys, giving me the advantage. The one with the rife began to raise his gun, but I pulled the trigger and struck him in the hip before he could even cock his gun. Just as he fell, Ernest cocked his bound elbow straight into the union fox's muzzle, breaking his nose. The forest was filled with the screams of the union furs as the fox fell to his knees and grabbed his muzzle. I quickly fell to mine and bit through the cords holding Ernest's paws behind his back, after he was free, he went and started working on Harry's. I stood back to my feet and demanded,

"Ya'll two best shut your muzzles or we'll have ya'll for brekfast."

Which caused the Desert dog to stop groaning, but the fox was younger and could not deal with the pain as well, so I walked next to him and struck the side of his head with the butt of my rifle to stifle his crying. I walked up to Michael and began cooing to him,

"It's alright, them nasty yanks are gone now." He continued crying, and I fell to my knees in front of him, taking his bound form into my arms. While I was consoling Michael, Ernest was freeing Harry and Charles from their bindings as well.

Just as all of the boys were up and huddled around Michael and I, we all heard a twig snap behind us.

"This, this right here aint gonna do atall." Came a voice from behind the treeline.

We all glanced back only to see the same lion I had caught a glimpse of earlier steping out from behind a tree with his revolver drawn. I glanced around only to notice several more union furs revealing themselves from behind trees. All of them had their rifles in their paws and were ready for combat, all of us were on our knees attending to Michael.

"Ya'll look a bit too young to be a real threat to the union, so I guess I'll just take you cubs as prisoners of war."

My lips quivered as I heard him say that, I had heard horror stories of what happened at the union prisons. Beatings, starving and brainwashing was our fates if we didn't do something. I grabbed my rifle and in a flash drew it to my shoulder and had turned to face the lion in uniform. The lion scoffed at my attempt and observed,

"Got you surrounded son, you shoot, you die."

I nodded and replied,

"Ya'll killed my momma, my baby sister, and Ms. And baby Cliff, one more life aint nothing to ya'll, what should It matter to me?"

The lion nodded and argued,

"You don't really have a chance, its 30 against 5, and one of ya'll is barely off his momma's teat, you shoot, this war don't need no more blood."

I smirked at the lion, I was standing fearless but that wouldn't really help me. I kept a firm voice as I queried, "What's a war that aint got no blood?" with that, I pulled the trigger.

My rifle sounded, as did those of the solders surrounding me. I was hit countless times, so rapid in succession that I felt no pain, but one thing of intrest did happen.

I opened my eyes to see I had once again nodded off while on the couch, Rick was sleeping as well, leaning against my left shoulder as the credits to the movie, "The Red Badge of Courage" were rolling. I smirked to myself and reached into my pocket with my free paw to check my phone. It was 4PM, not as late as I thought, but Rick's mom had texted me,

"Tried calling Ricky but he didn't answer, get him to call me when you have the chance."