What would you think…
when you are thinking for yourself?
What would you see… if you
were looking for yourself?
What would you feel… if you couldn't
control yourself?
What would you do... if you took over yourself?
As
the bell of the clock tower tolled Midnight in Sanctuary, the full
moon bathed the rugged scape of the village, peeking through the
cracks of the leaves on the trees, and through the curtains of the
huts where the children slept, soundly asleep and dreaming of the fun
that would befall them the next day. Over the roofs of the huts and
below the full beauty of the moon, on the highest branch of the
tallest tree stood the outline of something short, and very
spiny.
Blade, the Guardian of Sanctuary, was a hedgehog. Black
with blue streaked and split quills, scars, that crossed both his
torso and his left eye, and a brown pouch, which he never went
anywhere without.
Blade sighed as he stared down upon Sanctuary.
For as long as he could remember, had been the Guardian for
Sanctuary, protecting it from all foreign dangers, and keeping the
children safe. There was nothing more important to him, than making
sure that the children, orphaned by the tyranny that plagued the
land, grew up safe and sound and out of harms way. Looking from the
village, he stared out at the moon, his gaze fixated on its
magnificent size and bountiful moonlight. What happens, Blade
thought, when you can't protect them from an inevitable danger?