Camouflage

A/N: I love the number 13. So I decided to pile up the last two chapter and turn them into one. So, turn the song by Stan Ridgway - Camouflage on and enjoy or suffer, whatever suits you. Nope, don't care still.

It was almost seven months since that fateful day that Greg helped Nick overcome his first kill shock. The army life did wonders for him and his self esteem. No one looked at the tod down, no one called him a thieving sly con that out to stay away from honest mammals. Here, his comrades relied on his skill with the snipescope to cover their backs and keep them safe. It was a wonderful change from what the red fox was used to back in the city of Zootopia.

Most of the time the fox tod actually was commissioned by the 117th Marines company, consisting solely of wolves. They operated as a pack and rarely did an outsider got accepted into their circle. Nick's laid back personality while in the safety of the base and ability to warm his way even to the hardest of "clients" got him the marines approval and respect, as well as several acquaintances. This drastically helped with drawing bridges between the 117th Marines and 4th Infantry companies. The fact that Nick was a fox, meaning he was much smaller than any wolf marine, and quite useful in almost any kind of situation in the jungle, landed him an almost constant joint patrol missions with the marines. Which wasn't bad. He did the recon, they did the shooting. Once in awhile the tod would snipe a saolan from afar and that would be all.

Still, Nick never actually thought he belonged in the army. Sure, he was good and had a tally of kills and saved mammals long enough to grant him several medals, that the tod refused. He never actually got over his disgust of killing others. He knew now that most mammals never did, just learned to cope with it, and those serving under the 4th had strong conviction to keep serving even through clenched teeth and death cries of others.

The tod also feared a lot of things. Nick feared the slow but sure bullets of saolan airguns, deadly arrows and spears they employed during silent raids. Feared not realising an enemy has crept up from behind and was getting ready to slash his throat open with a dull knife. No one begrudged him that. Everybody on the frontline feared something, but once again, they knew how to cope with it and overcome it when time called. In the end, they were all just mortals…

On that night Nick saw his lieutenant for the first time. A tall athletic wolf, his fur the colour of midnight sky, eyes painted with gold, angular features of his face betraying a stern character. The black wolf trusted his sergeants to look after their squads and therefore rarely seen by the soldiers. Lieutenant accompanied the colonel in charge of their battalion, a middle aged horse with chestnut fur and amber eyes. Whole platoon, three sergeants and twenty seven privates, was lined up. They were to be given a special task, so it seemed, though what was so special about another jungle patrol evaded Nick's comprehension. They were to hunt down some more saolan bastards that thought to "disturb the peace of local populace" (meaning, the higher ups were afraid some stray round may fly over the fence and disturb their sensitive hearing). Nothing they haven't been doing in the last half a year while the dorks back in Zootopia tried to finally decide whether they wanted to pursue the conflict escalation route, or simply withdraw all Animalia States' presence altogether. Bloody politics and politicians.

This was not good. Their fireteam spread to cover a bit more area during the start of their night patrol, but the saolans were present in his sector in much larger numbers than anticipated, and he could not get back or call for help. This was no time to act a hero, and so Nick did his best in trying to hide. Of course, his boltgun suddenly jamming was a rather big stop sign to any brave thought that even thought of spawning in that thick skull of his.

The red fox tried his hardest to mix with the darkness and the flora of jungle. He could hear and smell the enemy moving around him. Fear gripped his heart that wanted to race, but the tod mentally held himself in check, laying as low in some natural trench as he could. Some time passed, voices and smells now trailing away and Nick felt his fear subsiding.

Just then his ears picked up a snap of a twig being stepped on. The spike of adrenaline made his movements ever faster, trying to flatten himself even further against the dirt and foliage. Nick put his gun, from which he took the magazine out for inspection, scared, counting done his fate. Before he could even remember the fact his gun was jammed or empty, the fox's brain refused to issue any other command.

- Wait. - To Nick's right stood a silhouette of a giant creature. He could not smell a thing, and that should have made him stay alert, but the voice and words had a calming effect on his frayed nerves. Saolan people had a completely different language.

The figure moved in closer beside Nick and he could finally see the stranger. He wore a marine's uniform and was a giant of a wolf. Broad shouldered, he could probably be confused with a small black bear if not for his muzzle and ears. And a long fluffy tail. What caught the tod's attention though were the eyes of the stranger. Kind and warm, they brought forth thoughts of his long gone father, whom he remembered only by that kind gaze he felt while going to sleep.

- Don't worry son, I am here with you now. If Charlie wants to tangle he'll now have two to dodge. - Nick thought he heard this voice somewhere, but could not place it. Nevertheless, the smile on the newcomers muzzle and his use of the marines designation for their enemies (currently the saolans) further helped Nick to relax and get a grip on himself, thus lowering his snipescoped boltgun. Still jammed, lacking that magazine and absolutely useless at such a distance.

- Well… Thanks a lot. I am Nick by the way, what's your name? - The red fox offered his paw to the wolf. The marine's one could easily cover his whole forearm, but he took the proffered paw and gently shook it.

- The boys just call me Camouflage, so you can go with that. - Unlike infantrymen, who were drafted to serve a certain amount of time, usually through a contract, marines devoted their whole lives to the army. This also led to them having different traditions, like leaving behind their real names and adopting new ones. Nick was even given his own, "Young Marine". But he did not remember hearing Camouflage mentioned though, but he did not personally know more than half of the marines from 117th due to their constant rotations and deployments. And there were no other marine missions commandeered to their operation. Something still nagged in the back of his head, something about the voice and the eyes, something familiar.

Just when Nick was about to ask where the wolf where he came from, the two mammals picked up the sound of flying bullets, followed by not so distant cries. Once more, fear gripped the tod's heart, but then he saw the big marine's eye looking down on him from under the helmet. A fire danced within it, and suddenly, the fox felt there was no fear anymore. He could do it, with the help of the big guy he definitely could. Boy was he glad to see this big marine.

Snapping back to reality, PFC Nicholas Wilde recalled his training. The jammed bolt was quickly ejected from the chamber, the sickle magazine inserted back into its place and the first retaliation shots fired. The wolf joined him shortly, shooting on the run, covering Nick;s retreat from their previous hiding place. Camouflage chose the direction of their charge, and the fox followed. Their adversaries had the advantage in numbers, but the canines had the night vision. This helped them navigate the dense jungle and shake their pursuers for awhile, until they once again had to give up their positions shooting the guns. Thankfully, they were able to keep up the distance for their boltguns to be effective, but not enough for the airguns to be ineffective. It was a wonder though how the saolan bullets missed the much firmer target that Camouflage presented, it even seemed to Nick's eye as if they were sometimes going right through the wolf. As if he wasn't there.

When the morning came the fox could finally recognize their location. Just half a mile to the south ran a small river that would lead to the HQ and the controlled zone. But they both knew there was no more time for playing hide and seek with the saolan. When the sun went higher, both canids would be at a disadvantage from the numbers point of view. So, Nick and Camouflage took their chance and ran.

Things went awry at the river bank, though, when they were ambushed by a large group of the saolan. First salvo of enemy airguns fell short, and both canids hid behind the trees, but the enemy was advancing. Their boltgun ammunition was almost completely expended, leaving only the option of close quarter fight. But the bovine species were much larger than even the big wolf marine and the fox tod had much less of a presence. His axe would do him little good, since it would possibly get stuck after the first hit. This was probably the end, they really were had.

Nick shot his last shots, thinning and slowing the advancing saolans' line. He then proceeded to remove the magazine and dismantling the boltgun. If he was killed, his weapon will not be captured by the enemy, thus endangering the lives of his friends. Then the red fox saw it. A bullet, buzzing through the brush, with his name on it, making its way from an airgun of a flanking enemy.

Many say that what you can see your life in your last moments. Nick saw nothing, but the here and now when everything would become finally clear. The following moment forever ingrained itself into the tod's memory. The awfully strange wolf marine, the one Nick had his doubts about whether or not was real, just swatted the bullet with his hands. As if it was a fly. The fox blinked several times, not believing his eyes, but the crazy things circus did not stop there. Camouflage was pulling out a whole palm tree, right up out of the ground. With his bare paws. This did not bode well for the bovines.

The one who targeted Wilde was sent flying out of the grove, his bones broken, head and appendages set under unnatural angles. The approaching saolan group was finished with recharging their airguns and just started shooting at the emerging wolf. When this yielded no results, they grabbed their knives and ran at him.

Nick dared not look away from the scene that would haunt him for some time with how surreal it was, a lone wolf marine swatting the charlies to kingdom come. Broken bodies flew at least tens of feet from the force of the strikes the big marine was delivering with that palm tree. Several were not so lucky and got themselves crushed against the earth by downward strikes. This was over in seconds with almost a dozen dead mammals. But Nick could care less, for he was not among that number today. And he could actually make out the walls and sentry towers of his HQ. With their pursuers no longer walking the land of the living, he had nothing to worry about anymore. The fox just had to cover the remaining ground and he was back home.

Nick caught himself after the first dozen of steps and turned around. The tree Camouflage was swinging around just seconds ago lay discarded on the ground, while the wolf marine himself was standing near the treeline, ready to wanish back into the jungle to continue his unsaid mission. Nick knew that no words could express the gratitude he felt towards this stranger. For saving a life. His life. Tears trickled down his muzzle as he simply stood there and waved goodbye. The tod could not tell how, but he knew he would never see this wolf ever again. And this made him incredibly sad. Yet, the big wolf just winked at him, kind gaze and warm smile never failing, turned around and vanished into the shadows.

- Our days -

- After I told the story of my night, I learned that the guy going by Camouflage was in the nearby tent. He died the day before, after laying there for a week. I am not sure whether or not everyone who heard this story believed me, but I think at the very least doc did. - Nick was holding in his paw a polished and well cared for piece of metal that Judy was intently studying. It contained all the information a marine would need to carry around:

Wolfsstund

Connor V.

2 13 J-117 6

SBTN 7734

N. Wolf

The other side of the dogtags had a series of carefully made scratches composing a single word: Camouflage. They were way too large for Nick to carry them around the usual way, so he kept them in his portemonnaie.

- The doc gave me the dogtags to keep, and we said a prayer for the big wolf marine named Camouflage. Even though it was too late. The rest is mostly history. I was discharged due to medical reasons a bit later. Seems like I contacted some kind of local bug that took me almost half a year to get away from. After that I returned to Zootopia. I keep in touch with some of the guys that were in the 4th. Greg is still lording over my squad. Duran is actually one of the marines from the 117th. Got shot and was deemed no longer fit for the marines. I recommended him to the chief and that is the best damn thing I have done since ever. The guy might not seem like it, but he is really happy to be back in action, back serving. - Judy knew the look on her fox's muzzle. Once again he tried to pull up those shields he learned to apply during his service and kept on using long after his discharge. The story, no matter how many years separated him from that day he almost died, will always be fresh in his mind and soul. But he would not allow it to show, would not allow the tears to fall. The fox once confessed to her he forgot how to cry after his mother died when he just turned nineteen. Life was not an easy affair for any fox, but this fox, the one sitting right beside her, despite everything, despite conforming to the prejudice of the society, stayed strong and full of life no matter what.

Nick was thrown back into reality from his thoughts of the past by the quiet sound coming from beside him. Then, the fox could not just hear it, but also feel it. The bunny, his wonderful and faithful partner for the last two years was crying while trying to hug him to death. Quiet tears and not so quiet sobs escaped her, and for once, Nick kept silent and just accepted the fact that someone cared for him enough to cry in his stead. Somehow, it felt right that it was Judy at his side, listening to his story, shedding his tears and sharing pain. Somehow, his paws found their way through the cold night air and embraced the strong yet crying bunny doe at the fox's side.

- You know, he really was big. - Judy was rubbing her eyes, trying to free them from what was left of the waterworks. Sometimes she wondered if there was more to her father than he let on, or if she just inherited his one and only prominent trait. But now she couldn't care more, holding and being held by the fox the bunny started to refer to as "her fox".

- I could swear that he was a bear with strange ears if I did not see him under the light. - The hour arrow on Nick's wrist watch was almost at two in the morning. The two of them were sitting and talking for longer than she thought. But Judy did not mind. If it was Nick, she would be happy to be with him now even if tomorrow she had to clock in early. Thankfully though, she did not have to (meaning, was forced by the chief) get there early so she had enough time to rest. And resting she was, in the hands of her partner. Who meant so much to her, she knew she would definitely kill to keep him. And Judy now definitely knew Nick cared much about her. It was all just a matter of time and of several actions she knew she would be taking in the near future. Strange fox culture and their tradition of vixens inviting the tods' courting. But no matter how strange, the chuckle Judy could both hear and feel coming from Nick made it all more than worth it.

- Yes, Carrots. It was an awfully big wolf.

Fin.

A/N: This is where this story draws its line. I am no good with romance, despite thinking of adding it to the story at the beginning. Silly me. But oh well, mistakes are made to learn from them not whine about them. Did you suffer, did you enjoy the story? Don't care. But do hope that maybe you got some nice music from this whole endeavour. Though I still have much more to share, but those bands and songs will be saved for other stories.

As for the weaponry. Imagine that the world has no exploding substance, like powder. Reason? Some elements behave differently, or they do not exist in the world of Zootopia, I don;t really know, not that good with chemistry and its application to state with 100% surety. Then there would be no powder operating firearms untill you are capable of creating a fuel usable for small projectiles (gyrojet technology). Thus the use of airguns and bows/crossbows and lots of cold weapons. Ever notice how much attention is payed to spears, swords and the like in Zootopia, while the super secret facility is being guarded by guys with tasers (like, wtf, really?). Also, I am much influenced by the WH40k series in regards to weaponry, thus the boltguns (yes, they are standard throughout the whole army, not just snipers, snipers just get to play with sniping scopes) and in the first half of the story you could see the diskthrowers (shuriken catapults of eldar were the prototype) operating on electromagnetic acceleration. Making them very deadly. I could actually follow up the story with how Zootopia is going to face the trouble that these new kinds of guns suddenly appear on the streets in the hands of gangs when its destribution is supposed to be heavilly regulated, etc, etc. Don't feel like it though.

Anyways, I am done with this story. I will probably take some time to clean up all the typos and so on and after that will start with several more projects. Oh, there was an easter egg in this chapter. Cortana will be glad to praise those who can pinpoint it.

USAPatriot - Pull the brakes, mate! I believe that I owe some explanation to do. I am not into pure death or black or goat metal and similar (though there is polish death metal band Vader and their album The Empire is wicked. But to my ears they just have more hard sounding heavy metal, if you know what I mean). I am into melodic death metal, please note the melodic. Melodic death metal is something wonderful, though I must admit that I developed a taste for it over some time.

I started with Amon Amarth's album Deceiver of the Gods. These guys rock hard with their viking and north mythology centered music. I actually first found their song The Father of the Wolf when looking for wolf related songs, and after that could not take my ears away from them.

Then, there is Omnium Gatherum. They play more beauty oriented melodic death metal. BUT, the most beautiful sound that could be pulled out in this genre is created by an Aussie band Be'lakor. Try looking for their song "The dream and the waking".

In the end, what I meant to say is you "Not gonna catch me listening to some crazy band like, Infant annihilator or dying fetus or something", lul. Fear Factory maybe, but I consider them to be in the industrial metal genre. Summoning? They are atmospheric, and rather close to folk. Not sure if I listen to some other on the edge of genres... Anywaaaays. Was nice meeting ya. Come around to the metal fire if ya feel like it :D Have a safe trip further in life mate.