From the air, everything looks small—but Anthony the Ant? He stands tall in ways that matter.
One day, at Golden Seed Castle, the grain vault cracked open and spilled across the drawbridge. Bigger creatures froze, afraid of the crumbling edge. Not Anthony. He studied the fall, measured the danger, and moved.
Without a second thought, he marched right to the edge, tying threads of grass like ropes, directing everyone to safety. His voice was steady—small, sure, but strong enough to steady the rest. He gave clear jobs: lift, brace, carry, breathe.
When I swooped down to help, he just waved me off.
“Courage isn’t being big,” he said, “it’s standing firm when the ground’s unsure.” Then he asked me to shade the bridge with my wings, and the crowd stopped panicking.
I’ve flown through storms, but that moment humbled me. Anthony didn’t roar or leap—he simply acted, and the castle held. Courage, I realized, isn’t loud—it’s loyal and organized.
From above, I watch him lead his colony with quiet bravery, and I tell the Skylands: heroes come in all sizes, but courage fits them all—and when courage fits, everyone can move forward together.
