The winter was cold.
Up in the mountains on this quiet winter night, three figures traveled along silently as the snow fell softly.
One was a hedgehog, older than his companion. He was hunched-over, maybe exhausted. Both physically and emotionally.
His first comrade was quite different. There was a spring in his step as the two descended the mountain. He was also a child and a fox. The fox was an orange-yellow and had two tails.
The third member of the group was also a hedgehog but younger than the his friend. He was about the same age as the fox, around 12. He was a dark red color.
The three reached a cliff that overlooked their village.
"Wow, look at this," exclaimed the fox.
"Was the view worth climbing the mountain," quetioned the elder hedgehog.
"Yeah, totally," he cheerfully responded, "Zenith, what do you think?"
The young red hedgehog was quiet...
"It's something," he finally responded, "it seems so small from up here."
"Things always seem smaller," said the older hedgehog, "when you look at them from the outside, from a different perspective."
Just them, the fox noticed something in the sky, a collection of lights of all different colours.
"Wow, Shadow," yelled the fox, "what is that?"
"It is Vega's air force," he somberly replied.
The lights passed through the clouds, revealing what they really were:
planes. Planes of all different size and shapes. And there were hundreds of them.
"Don't worry, Tails," Shadow said, "they won't bother us."
"Why not," questioned Zenith.
"They have no reason to," Shadow respond, "my guess is that they are returning to the capital city after one of their conquest. Since our village is part of the Vega Empire, they have no reason to attack us."
"So, we're their friends," asked Tails.
"No," Shadow snapped, "we're their slaves!"