Scaredy was driven by his nightmares. It seemed as if every other night, Scaredy bore witness to a village in ruins, ravaged by disaster, some enemy or other having come to get them all. Instead of continuing only to live in fear… The terrible dreams that accosted him had begun to drive him into action. Doing something felt so much better than doing nothing – he’d already spent so long doing nothing.
The more he worked away at his defensive measures with his supporters, the better he felt. The safer he felt. Perhaps there would even come a point where he wasn’t so scared of falling asleep anymore.
Some smurfs were dismissive of his concerns. So he told them about his nightmares. He’d pick one out from the many that had woken him up in a cold sweat, and lay it out for them.
“What if this is just like the Smurfomatic Smurfulator? Isn’t it better to be safe… than to be sorry?”
Scaredy’s group continued to dra