Fire burned as far as the eye could see; buildings and skyscrapers were nothing more than rubble. The sky was black with ash and smoke; the sun never showing its rays. Life was almost entirely extinct by this time, for everything to consume was gone. Wondering around aimlessly were creatures, monsters, made of boiling lava and burning fire. They searched and scavenged every which way to find something to eliminate, something to murder. They had one mission: destroy.

In the shadows of an abandoned building, one looking similar to an orphanage, was the last of its kind: a hedgehog. The small, emaciated child was no more than five years of age; his fur soaked in soot and smoke. His quills were long and unbrushed, knots all the way to his ankles. His claws were overgrown and broken to fractured edges; his arms and legs covered in there scratches. The tiny speck of life was in nothing but a long, wool shirt three sizes too big for him. It was damaged and unwinding at the ends; his feet bare. Over his shoulders a brown, makeshift satchel that's seen better days. Inside the bag was everything he's scraped up since this hell: a fork (for combing his fur and quills), a tin can (for if he ever finds water), a dull, hunting knife (to protect himself with), a wool blanket (for sleep and comfort) and a beaten up plush of a certain black and red hero.

That plush, that toy, was the only thing to get him through the nights. It gave him comfort, protection and hope. When heat lightning crashed and the temperature dropped in the night; the child would hunker down under the blanket and hug the plush. His name was Mr. Grumpy, and he was his best and only friend. When times got tough, he relied on the ebony hedgehog's serious look to make him smile. He was his savor; the reason he was even alive. Even with one of his red button eyes missing he still empowered him through and through.

The silent hedgehog peeked around the corner as the temperature began to rise enough to where he could sneak out of the building. He needed to move out of this area and find a new hiding place, for the monsters were getting closer. He'd be eaten if he didn't move now.

Sneakily, with his bag close to him, he dashed around the corner and stayed in the shadows. Thankfully, no monsters were around; this gave him easy access to move around. He had to find somewhere with something, anything, to survive on. His supplies was already weary and miniscule; soon he would be completely dry of rations. He hadn't drank or eaten in weeks and that mistake was finally taking its toll on him. If he didn't have the shirt on one could see so much revolt: his sunken in stomach, his insanely visible ribs, his rigid spine and even his pelvic bone. He was nothing more than a skeleton with some skin on it; his bones peeking through the thinning fur of his being.

This child, this unnamed organism, had living alone in this pit for his entire life. He was an orphan; his parents ran off without him. They left him alone, trapped and starved at the tender age of one. He didn't have the slightest idea how to speak, to say words, for he was never educated. The tiny hedgehog was going on nothing more than instinct at this point. He ate whatever he could find: rats, birds, insects and even garbage. Alas, nothing could fill his non-existent tummy. However, that would make sense. The furred orphan had never had a home or a family; so, he was never given a full meal. He's never felt what it is like to be full. In this fiery hell; it was the least of his worries. He had things constantly trying to kill him, the fact he could never find food or water, all his shelters attempt to crush him and he had really, really bad fleas and ticks. He'd always itch and scratch at them, struggling so hard to pull them out of his flesh, but he would never eat them. He found that out the hard way when he ate a tick one time; he threw up blood for a week before it finally came out.

Golden orbs scanned the decimated area for any sign of activity before running as fast as he could to the other side of a once main street; his steps barely making a sound. He had to hold back cries as the bottom of his unforgiven feet stabbed at him with their open sores and blisters. Panting, he made it to the other side before collapsing against a crumbling wall. Hissing inaudibly the five year old held onto his aching leg: one of the blisters had broken open and was becoming infected. If he didn't clean it soon it would become infected, and he would lose it.

"Blaze," A concerned and unnerved hiss rang out of the silent air, "What are you doing? We have to hurry back before Iblis awakens again!"

"I'm sorry, father," A more feminine and comforting sound replied, "I thought I saw something move."

The small, now scared boy shook at the never before heard sounds of speech, his ears pinned back. He felt panic surge through his veins as he didn't know if those creatures making the sounds would hurt him or not; he had never seen another person before. Shaking in fear he turned to sprint away when he screamed in terror; before him was a monster! He was sent flying back as the gruesome beast whacked him with its flaming talons, burning his arm. Spirals of agony broke his core as he violently hit the wall behind him; his spine shaking at the impact. Everything blurred and rang as the back of his head bounced off the wall, blood dripping. This was it for him….. He was going to die here.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Flames, hotter than anything the boy has ever felt, scorched the beast into ashes. Before him landed a purple and lilac colored person, a cat to be precise. She was a beautiful sight, for she was tall and strong. The child had never seen such a wonderous sight before; she was a goddess. Gently, yet gracefully, she kneeled before him.

"That looks pretty nasty," She breathed to herself as she examined his head and arm wounds, "we need to get you to safety."

The hedgehog just stared as he was picked up by the woman and held close to her chest, cradling him. Her hold was strong, motherly in grace, as if in promise. Like a bird, she jumped up the wall and landed next to a taller, darker purple cat. They looked similar.

"Blaze," The man said, voice strict, "lets go."

X

"I can't believe you're actually white!" Blaze smiled happily as she stared at the clean boy.

The tiny, once ash grey hedgehog was now pure white in color. His fur was washed, his wounds treated and bandaged and all pests eliminated from his body. He sat there smiling as he held his newly fixed -and washed- toy; his golden eyes sparkled with his beautiful appearance. However, he was still thin. He had been given water, about a gallon of it, and he drank it all. Water was like gold to him, it was priceless. After all the water he was given something he's never seen before: bread. This tiny fingers held the loaf before he took a bit, then… it was gone.

"Wow," The cat chuckled, "you must be starving. I wonder where you came from…. Can you speak?"

Those little, golden eyes blinked at her before he mewed. Yes, he mewed, like a cat. Blaze stared in awe and held the child.

"You don't know how to speak? Hmm…. Maybe you don't have a name either…." She said looking down at the tiny, confused toddler. Then, she smiled, for she had the perfect name. "Your name will now be Silver. Don't worry, Silver, I'll raise you the right way."

The sweetheart, now known as Silver, just kept his illuminating eyes on her. She was his new mother, his caregiver, his safety. The twelve year old princess was everything he never had, and he didn't know it yet, but he was the luckiest person alive.

End