"Indemnify me, O LORD..."

"Indemnify me..."

"FOR thy hedgehog pursueth me as the night descends..."

"Hedgehogs, O Lord..."

"And I grow weary OF climbing..."

A mere thin sliver of sun remained above the valley's western rim. The rector perched uneasily with a handful of congregants high in the gently swaying boughs of an ancient oak. His quiet, guarded voice and the ragged whisper of the responses seemed to wither and fade among the rustling leaves and creaking boughs. In the twilit gloom at the foot of the tree, massive shapes moved, hunched and indistinct, snuffling and rustling in the debris of the forest floor. From the middle distance, a thin scream rose and cut off.

The Reverend Dr. Reginald St. John Thrisp-Smatchet winced, steadied his voice, and mechanically continued the prayer.

"For their spines, O Lord, ARE lengthy..."

"Their spines, O Lord..."

"And you, O Lord, HAVE shafted us royally..."

"For fuck's sake, O Lord..."

Night fell fully as the litany wore on. In the dim glow of a sickle moon, faint pairs of eyes blinked patiently on the ground below.

. . .

Thus it was everywhere. Civilization had not fallen in a single day, nor had the hedgehogs extended their cruel hegemony over the Earth entirely without resistance from their sometime overlord, Man...