He was sitting on a barrel before his desk, and kept on writing as hard as he could. He had sheets of bark all around him, and his hands and face were all over pokeberry ink.
“That was all rusty. It is false,” continued Yellow Lion.
“Your mane looks as though it were real,” replied Hedgehog.
“You said I ought to have a haircut,” added Yellow Lion.
“Which one of your hairs,” sighed Hedgehog.
“Hedgehog,” roared Yellow Lion, “your time has come. You miserable, little—”
“What did you say?” asked Hedgehog. “I am hard of hearing.”
“Quill driver,” thundered Yellow Lion.
With that Hedgehog moved the back of his neck in such a way that all the quills which were sticking behind his ears came out like arrows shot from the bow. They stuck in the face of Yellow Lion and made him jump and squeal and beg for mercy. Yellow Lion ran out of the place with his paws all over his face and the tears running down his cheeks.
“I may be a quill driver,” said Hedgehog, as he dipped a quill in pokeberry juice, “but when I am writing I cannot afford to be annoyed by big, yellow animals.”