From a very young age, the tortoise learns that their shell is a sanctuary in which they’ll always retreat to when the world falls to despair. It’s a dark and cold comfort, to be huddled inside of tough walls that denies the sun’s heat and light. It's torture, the tortoise thinks to himself, but as the time ticks by, the dark chill doesn’t exist anymore, only a new world that could only be painted and drawn by a vivid imagination. 

Of course, it comes as fate that the tortoise always tries to find a reason to be back at his little sanctuary again. Despite the chilly dark and the fact that one’s imagination, no matter how big it may be, could easily shrivel away, the tortoise enjoyed its little sanctuary. And soon the simple thought of retreating back in his shell, no matter how small, was an alluring drug that he couldn't get rid of. And the simple world that the tortoise knew before, quickly transformed to one of luring eyes that burned its ways through his insecurities, careful whispers that find their way to roam the hills and valleys to haunt his poor body. And the shadows that always held a shaking hand behind their backs, keeping grip on a jagged dagger, ready to attack the tortoise any moment. Just waiting for the right time. 

And while the tortoise walked with careful steps through a pasture suddenly shrouded in darkness, the other animals looked on with penetrating eyes. Confused, curious, but really concerned black beads that followed the tortoise everywhere he went. They watched as he took his vigilant steps, his small crinkly neck always watching over. And you see, with such a ginormous shell, he couldn't really see much but a suspicious sky with a scheming sun and crooked clouds, so really, he'll curse his luck. And while watching each step over and over again, he'll always try to look back again, certain the shadows with the dagger would capture him. 

And while the hare took it's daily grazing on the early morning grass that was always sparkled with little droplets of dew, the tortoise, with his little neck raised and his poor head not seeing anything more but what's ahead and the sky, retreats to his shell where chilly dark greets him once more with a loving embrace. And the tortoise, with his head hung in shame but taking its embrace with full gladness, stays in its arms. And from then on, their souls are tied in a loving and never ending marriage.