The greyish hedgehog sits on top of a rock in a small clearing of the endless, dark forest, looking up at the black sky with melancholy. His body and gloves were stained in his own blood, some splotches dryer than others. A flock of three crows surround him, one landing on his head while the others landed by his sides.

One life… Just one life is good enough for me. What is the end for me?

He cries out softly, tears forming in his black eyes. He hugs his own body for what little comfort and warmth he could muster, yet he was left cold. It wasn’t fair, he did nothing wrong. Why was it he who was left in an endless purgatory of a sick and twisted mouse chase that not even the painful relief of death could end. Yet again, he would be back again. He started to cry quietly to himself, his head tilting down to the grass below him, a mix of blood and tears dropping down. The three birds kept a soulless gaze on him with their white eyes, making him feel more hopeless and smaller than he already was.