You know what. 
I’m going to indulge this ask. Just for shits and giggles. 

****

It was the nightmare of the forest. 

Running on all four legs usually rendered one more rapid, and that was the case for the mice and foxes, for the long legged deer. But for her, no for her there was only the panic of her heart beating too fast, the danger of dying from overexerting and nothing to help but the knowledge that a bite at her body would hopefully maim as she perished. 

How she wished she had something other than the spines along her back to save her. 

The dogs came with the apocalyptic sounds of the trumpets and the chaotic thunder of horse hoofs. Usually they were aimed at bigger more impressive trophies. Antlered beauty ancient and powerful, or the bright and flashy fur of the red tailed foxes. 

That did not mean she and her brethren were safe. No, that just meant they had more breaths to spend getting away. She should have moved faster. 

“It’s coming, Knit! It’s coming!” Ahead her little brother squeaked his terror, feeling in the ground the falling paws of the hunting hound, too young to know the danger they posed, too big to not be a danger to them in turn. 

Their spikes might slice his lips and render his mouth useless but it would only be after being shaken roughly, and the snap of their neck could come easy then. Would, if she couldn’t move faster-

“Run, Knit!” The squeak sharpened from panic to terror. “Run!” And she knew, with her beady eyes closing, and her heart taking off in the direction of dying that this was it. 

The hot breath of the beast behind her sent her spines to bristling, and as she gasped a last breath she heard his order firm and calm among the panting horror of the hunting hound’s growls. 

“Cover your face, Knit.” 

She should have listened. 

A porcupine, young and unfamiliar rolled out of the undergrowth, needle point spines glinting wicked in the dim light of the setting sun. 

The hound skid to a stop, grunted with furious indecision as the bigger more aggressive animal came barreling in his direction, but he never had a chance to choose who to destroy. 

A snarl from the unknown porcupine shifted the world on it’s axis, and it was a sheer miracle alone that kept her from being blinded for in that moment, like a bomb exploded the porcupine’s quills erupted in a shower of brutal sharpness. 

Ducking at the last moment to protect her eyes Knit squeaked in surprise, listening to the sudden turn from fury to agony from the hunting hound, his stumbling step shaking the forest ground with his closeness. 

“And don’t come back!” The strange porcupine roared, rising on back legs to watch the pin cushion of a dog scamper away in terror, limping and whining in pain. 

“Knit!” Her brother’s shrieks were dim in the background as she stared, lifting her head slowly from under her forelegs to study the creature that had saved her. Quills lay imbedded in the trees and ground, in the branches and bushes and his own back slowly regrew the coating of weaponry so he shrugged his shoulders as if shaking off mild discomfort. 

Glancing back at them she blinked, surprised to find his face coated in a thick layer of mud, wrapped around his eyes and snout so that the features of his face were not clear. 

“Who…?” she began because of course she wanted to know. What kind of creature was he? What kind of porcupine? A different breed? A different thing altogether. 

“Call me… Sargeant Shrapnel.” He winked, and before her brother reached her he was gone, thrown into the foliage of the forest floor, disappearing like he had never been. 

“Knit!” Her brother’s paws shook her roughly, but could not bring her back to earth. “Knit! Are you okay?” 

Knit blinked, slowly turning her face from where the porcupine had gone to her brother’s worried little face before breaking out into a laugh that was halfway to mad, but mostly just relieved. 

“I’m all right… I… I think I just met a hero…” 

****

You know that moment when you take a random thing WAY too seriously? 
Yeah. This is what it looks like.