“Please, let the proceedings begin.” The Judge had called court, Florence snorted, the last time the old turtle had held real court was probably back when he was in the capital a year ago.

Still, though, this case was about him and he would obey.

He took a seat and glowered at the judge, who started to move uncomfortably in his chair. Yeah, that’s right, Florence thought, you better be uncomfortable.

The other critter that was acting as his “lawyer” was also uncomfortable with Florence's glare, and nudged him, attempting to get him to stop, only for the guinea pig to transfer his glare over to this unfortunate critter.

His glare was only directed at the lawyer for a split second before moving on to his real victim, the mouse. The mouse also started to shift uncomfortably, only to let out a little whine as his bruises were aggravated, and the mouse had a lot of them. Two black eyes, several missing patches of fur, a bruised and bloodied tail, a chipped tooth.

The Judge cleared his throat and began, “We are gathered here today to talk about the case of the critter Florence, a guinea pig, and his alleged assault on the critter Simone, the mouse.”

Florence jumped up, “Who do you think you are?! I ain’t no pig! I’m a Cavia Porcellus, and proud of it, you would do well to remember that, and if that is too much then you can call me a Cavy!” His lawyer grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him down, the angry Cavy’s chest was heaving, the judge called him a guinea pig! A pig! The cavy glared at the poor turtle, once again making the Judge move uncomfortably.

The Judge restarted, “We are gathered here today to talk about the case of the critter Florence, a Cavia Porcellus, and his alleged assault on the critter Simone, the mouse, could the accused party please rise.”

Florence zoned out at this point, he had already been questioned plenty and all the proceedings were pretty much formalities they were all doing to appease whoever the Evertree was in charge of this leaf-forgotten place. Florence took pleasure in using these swear words even if they were just in the confines of his mind.

The short of it was that he had beaten up the mouse for bad-mouthing his race calling them all nothing but pigs, that earned him the two black eyes. The rest of the good for nothing rodents injuries were because of him bad-mouthing his parents and calling him an orphan, both of which he really didn’t like.

Florence sighed and hung his head, he reached for his rat fang that he wore on a necklace around his neck, remembering, he was only sixth months old when he got the news and he was seven months old when he saw them. The adults of the family had tried to keep him away but he wanted to see his parents, see if they were really dead, see if they would wake up.

Florence wished that he had never been so curious, he still has nightmares about what he saw. Both his mother and father were chewed up, the very rat fang that he was holding now had been embedded in his mothers head. Their faces were unrecognizable. He had slunk away after that and cried under his favourite flower, cried himself to sleep, clutching the rat fang.

He shook those thoughts off, there was nothing to be done. His parents were dead. Florence promised vengeance against the rat race and had tried to find someone that he could blame for what happened.

Florence sunk lower into his chair remembering his fallout with Hoppy. He had screamed and shouted, saying that it was the Royal Family’s fault, that it was them that had sent his parents on that mission.

He was regretful about he treated Hoppy, the adopted uncle, but he was the only one that had any connection to the Royal Family who he had blamed.

Florence clutched his rat fang harder, and rose in his seat, he would find the rats that did it and punish them as for the Royals? He would find something…. Something. He just wanted them to understand what they did to him and how much it had hurt. How much it had changed him, how it had led him to this situation.

He tuned in again, “….He has beaten up so many of us! We hardly do anything to him but it doesn’t matter, he always just attacks us and for no reason at all! Look at what he has done to me! We can’t defend ourselves at all because he is much bigger, and stronger than us and even the one that was bigger than him got beaten up. All I asked was what the orphanage was like and he just lost control!” The little critter that he had beaten up was crying by now, which served only to highlight the mouse’s bruises and other injuries.

He needed to leave, he needed to get out of here.

Florence got up and charged out of the courtroom bowling over the mouse on his way out and no doubt just cementing the whole ‘big stupid bruiser,’ thing.

Florence continued running, running through town and ignoring all the looks that he was given, running through the farms and ignoring the farmers shouting. He ran and ran, until eventually he got to the cemetery, and collapsed at the foot of his parent's gravestones.

Once again he read the inscriptions:

Here Lie Florence II and Alia.

Loving Husband and Wife, killed while on a mission Outside.

May we forever remember their noble sacrifice.

At the bottom of the gravestone was another line of wording,

“Son, we love you. We will always love you.”

Florence III felt the energy leave him as he looked at the gravestones. “Mother, Father, I’m sorry, I am. I just….” His voice broke, and he just sat down and chirped, a sign of sadness and of mourning among his race of critter. Florence chirped for a while, his eyes moist, and his energy all but gone, when he felt a hand touch his head.

“Six inches of dark earth, son.” The Overseer said, antennae twitching, “three inches for your Mother, three inches for your father.” The ant continued to look down at the grave, “they were brave, boy, and gave their lives for something that they believed in…. Gave their life knowing that they would never be hailed, except, of course, in the halls of the Everguard.”

Florence looked at his guardian, and sighed, “I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, didn’t they remember that they had a son? A young son? Didn’t they?” He looked at the Overseer, distraught.

“When you were born they were the happiest I had ever seen them, I was part of their squad, I would know, your dad was snuggling you and your mother was too.” The Overseer looked up, overtaken by memories. “You were a miracle, a miracle, they had tried to have babies before but it never worked, and they thought that they were barren. Then you came along. It was a profound joy that they felt. It was, frankly, beautiful.”

He patted Florences head, “I never saw them more unhappy than when they had to leave you. Duty called though, and they gave their lives to protect you. To protect me, to protect all those that live in the Evertree, they were brave, and would’ve been proud had they seen you now.”

“You think so?” Florence asked.

“I don’t think so. I know it.”

The Overseer left, and Florence looked at the words on the gravestone once more.

“Son, we love you. We will always love you.”