“Oh, for god’s sake…” said Sergeant Nessilka, covering her eyes. Corporal Algol had a very small kitten cradled in his hands. She was pretty sure she'd had nightmares like this.

“Can I keep ‘im, Sarge, can I? Please?”

“Corporal—“ she began, and stopped, because she didn’t know what she was going to say after that. She should never have let him name the supply goat. Once you started naming goats, it was all downhill from there. She massaged the bridge of her nose and tried again. “Corporal, we’re goblins. The scourge of the night! Stealers of children! Marauders of the dark! The terror of…well, fairly terrible anyway.”

Algol looked at her blankly, petting the kitten.

“We aren’t kitten people!”

Algol stared at her, still petting the kitten. It made a little mrrp! noise and butted its head against his fingers.

“We…don’t…what would the other units think…?”

Algol sniffed. The sergeant could see a traitorous moisture beginning under his eyes.

“Corporal—“

His lower lip wibbled.

“Oh, fine,” she said, relenting. “If somebody eats it, don’t come crying to me.”

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I get the feeling the goblin military is pretty lax by human standards. Mixed media on illo board, 8 x 12 or thereabouts. I have goblins on the brain. Original is probably for sale, prints are definitely available for $10 plus shipping--send a note or visit [link] for details.