Uh yeah, Otto.

A French soldier, his name is Maurice, walks over to him and offers him a brandy he smuggled onto the front lines

*Otto looks up weakly.* "T-thank you." *He takes it and drinks up.*

Khlahd=7ft tall, Deadly, aggressive, feral, Close-combat predator, can lift up to 2.5-30 tons

[flips over german tank with a loud gut wrenching roar and tears a hole through the bottom of the tank and climbs in, the tank shakes for around 13 seconds then goes still, khlahd climbs out, covered in blood, jaw dripping blood mixed with his saliva, then looks at otto and approaches]

“Oh, that…yes…I can’t feel it, it’s completely numb…”

you...good..duy? one...of...us?

“Y-yes…oh god, I can feel the pain again…f-from the burn…ach…”

[I open the med kit and I wrap gauze around his burn] ...better...?

“Mhm, better…”

[hands him a new emblem] good...now...?

"Yes, good."

[puts emblem on where his old swastika patch was and I put the new emblem on] ...good... [climbs out the trench]

*groans in pain*

you'll...be...fine

"R-really?"

yes... now come... nazi's... must....end [I pull him out of the trench] first...find...gun...maybe...tank?

*he groans in pain again*

[puts him on shoulder and moves through the front lines]

*crying*

why... you... cry? [growls at an ally that bumped into him while marching]

“In pain…”

"J-ja, not a Nazi..."

[now holds him by the helmet and tears off his swastika emblem] then...what...this!?

“I-I was forced to join the army when I was 16…in 1943…”

[puts him down and eats emblem in one gulp] Otto...good...?

*He nods*
“I try my best to be g-good…”

[a low rumble goes through my chest and I lift him up by the backpack and I take him back to friendly lines]

*Otto cries and breathes shakily*

[I climb down the trench and regurgitate a medkit]

"W-what? Am I injured?"

[I point to burn wounds] ....burn...hurt?

*Otto screams and starts to run away.*

[roars and and charges]

*He keeps screaming and running, but he trips over*

[grabs him by the foot and lifts him]

*He starts screaming more.*

[brings otto's face to his jaws]

"N-nein! Don't eat me!"

[brings him to his jaws and inhales his sent]

*He whimpers.*

[takes one last inhale then cocks his head] no...Nazi...?

*Abel was on the opposite side of the war, though he didn’t want to fight at all. He believed everyone had some sort of good deep inside. Now, he stumbled about the battlefield, clutching his rifle like it was his last hope (because it was), all while ignoring the wound in his side. He laid eyes on Otto, expecting to see just another lifeless body. But upon seeing he was still alive, he fell to his knees beside him*
Abel: “Hey…. You need-“ *pained breath/wheeze* “help?”
*he tried to cover his badge for the opposite side, hoping Otto wouldn’t decline him for that*

*Otto notices his uniform and starts to squirm away at first, but he calms down.*
Um…y…yes…

*he holds out a hand, not moving any closer*
Abel: “I won’t hurt you. I just want help. Even if I wanted to hurt you… well…” *he winces, pressing his hand to the wound in his side*

*Otto nods.*
"Do you...want to help...me?"

Abel: *he nods, taking bandages out of his side bag* “Yes. I’m medically trained.”

*He nods again, trying to use less of his energy*

*Lorenzo is a young Italian soldier who got away with the age requirement, being 2 years younger than the minimum*
Lorenzo: are you alright, fellow Soldato? (Soldato is soldier in Italian)

*He shakes his head.*

L: i shall bring you to one of our med tents. what is your name?

“Otto…Otto Fischer.”