The world spins on madness and gasoline, but here sits the true hero of the wood. A chipmunk perched on a stump like some deranged woodland general, swiping at the air as if to banish the demons of modern civilization. No cape, no headline, just raw defiance and a face full of sunlit fury. A reminder that not all champions roll in chrome or booze. Some come striped, twitchy, and ready to claw their way into immortality on the forest floor.

Not all heroes wear capes. Some wear pine needles and dirt.