“I mean leaving just to see. Not to abandon anything. To find out what’s out there besides…this.” Sonic waved a hand at the island, at the endless responsibility woven into stone.
The wind smelled of copper and ozone as Sonic skidded to a stop on the ridge overlooking Angel Island. Below, the ruins glowed with the last amber of sunset; above, the sky had deepened to bruised red. He rolled onto his back, letting the chill of the stone seep into him, and watched Knuckles moving like a shadow among the broken pillars.
“You aren’t like the others,” Knuckles continued. “You don’t try to change me.” sonicknuckleswsonic3bin file work
That got Knuckles to look up properly. For a heartbeat, the island’s guardian seemed to measure whether to close off his face. Then he shrugged, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m always okay. This place is my duty.”
Knuckles snorted, but it was almost a laugh. “View’s been the same for centuries.” “I mean leaving just to see
Knuckles’ gaze dropped to the emerald’s distant shimmer. “If I left, who would protect it?”
A slow warmth spread over Knuckles’ face—annoyance, pride, something softer he wasn’t used to naming. The beat between them lengthened until it felt like the island was holding its breath. The wind smelled of copper and ozone as
“You called me here,” Sonic said. “Besides, I needed to see the view.”
