Unfinished Get Wild Anthology Submission

“You are tasked with delivering this bundle of letters to Captain Hunderson in the new front lines. Can you do that, Private Peeters?”

The hare swallowed the spit he’d almost choked on upon being called into his commander’s tent. The imposing Belgian Malinois stared at him from across the makeshift, wooden table. His one good eye glinted under the single amber lantern hanging in the dingy tent. His dark, thick brows were deeply furrowed.

He dared to not take his eyes off of his commander, and he dared to not shuffle his feet around and squirm in discomfort in his boots. Peeters’ nose twitched, betraying his rawest emotions.

“I thought you hares were supposed to have good hearing.”

He jumped a little under his black and tan fur, the navy blue collar of his scratchy uniform suddenly suffocating. He pawed at it.

Stiffening his posture, he replied with a pained squeak, “Captain, I must ask. Are the telegraph wires broken?”

His question was met with silence aside from the subtle noise of sharpened, muddy claws sinking into waterlogged wood.

“I don’t know where you’ve been, but they were destroyed last week. Chewed through effortlessly. Now, I will ask you again, you cowardly thumper, can you deliver that fucking letter? Otherwise, I shall be more than pleased to have you sent off to the front lines. And not for a vacation.”

On impulse, Peeters stomped his black boot against the ground.

The canine glared at him, a snarl starting to form on his face.

“Y-yes, Captain, I can do that. I can deliver that letter.”

“Good.”

He tossed the package across the table. Peeters quickly pocketed it.

“Get out of my sight. Gather Colonel Vermeulen to come with you. Just in case. Oh, and report to Lieutenant Lambert on your way out while you’re at it. Tell him I sent you.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He gave a brief salute and trudged out of the makeshift tent.

His heart was racing, and his mud-caked paws were clammier than usual. The Captain always had a bone to pick with him. Always sneering at him whenever he passed by, making pointed comments about his species whenever possible. Subtle enough for no one else to notice but him. Hearing the word “thumper” slip past his muzzle just now was a bit of a relief, though. It was a confirmation of his suspicions. He’d heard it said enough about his family.

“There’ll be more war fodder coming, I figure,” he muttered to himself, echoing the Captain’s sharp sentiments under his breath.

Blending into the crowd of other rabbits, he shuffled his way through the trenches. It was like a burrow, but so much worse. Sure, their passages were narrow and winding and constricting when trying to navigate a hall of siblings, but there was always a sense of security, comfort, and warmth present. None of that was here. These may have been his brothers in arms, but at the end of the day, nothing could replace the emptiness and hollowness he harbored in his madly beating heart.

He entered a tiny, cramped clearing, where there was a line of men pressed against the trench walls, waiting to enter the first aid dugout.

He nudged one of the men in the line, who was a tall, burly Flemish rabbit. The rabbit turned to him, an already dismissive look on his face. Peeters wished he hadn’t bothered him.

“You need something?”

“H-have you seen Colonel Vermuelen?”

“Who?”

“He’s a Flemish rabbit like you. A bit more scrawny, though. He’s got a sandy color to his fur, and a nick in his left ear.”

The other rabbit paused.

“Hmm… saw a guy like that enter the station a few minutes ago.”

Peeters dipped his head. “Thanks.”

He shoved his way through the lines, earning him a few glares and a shout of, “The fuck?”

Inside the dugout, a lamb was tending to the colonel’s gash in his arm. Both men looked up at him, with an exasperated look on their faces.

“Colonel, sorry to bother you—” he quickly saluted him “—but you’re supposed to be accompanying me on a mission. Captain’s orders.”

Vermuelen nearly jumped out of his seat. “What? Why?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

His brows furrowed and his muzzle tightened for a second.

“Give me a moment to get this patched up.”