The Story of Amy Rose: The Capture

Alone and yet... Loved

And then, she stopped falling.

The rose, frozen in time by a steady grip around her waist that had managed to catch her, stared stupefied at the snowy ground of the forest that she had, thankfully, not taken a mouth full of. She was, first, shaken at the thought that her pursuer had caught her and was nearly prepared to summon her hammer, but an all too familiar voice awakened the delight in her, replacing her fright.

"As clumsy as ever, aren't you?"

That voice... oh that voice. How she'd missed it so.

The snow shifted as she was gently placed back on both feet, being allowed to regain control of her legs. She gripped the handle of her basket with suspense. Her expression remained that of surprise as she slowly initiated a 180 to face the life form behind her.

... the ultimate life form.

" Shadow..." she muttered, in a trance like awe.

Intense crimson orbs stared deeply into her own, a warm salutation that evaluated her current state. His quills were thick and black, the tips retreating in an upward fashion with streaks of red. He stood, a head taller than the rose, his white chest fur as stainless as a blanket of snow.

"Good afternoon." His volume mimicked hers.

She blinked out of her trance, saved once again by his voice. She gave him a small smile.

"Are you... headed to Vanilla's house?"

He answered with a curt nod.

"We can walk together, if its not too much trouble."

He nodded once more, a ghost of a smile evident for a mere second before she began to lead the way down the path to Vanilla's villa.

The path was covered with a light frost, the orange and yellow trees a residential area for the light sleet. The sunlight was dissipating at a minuscule rate, fading ever so slightly. The two hedgehogs walked peacefully, one with a smile, the other with a his own version of peaceful, eyes closed, face relaxed, movement a leisure consisting of large strides. The rose kept her hands in front of her, clutching her basket cutely, red riding hood taking a stroll with the hunter.

The rose couldn't help but swim in her endless curiosity. Why had the ebony come from the trees near her house? Did he somehow live in the area? Or had he come from a mission in that relative direction? Other than that, how was he fairing? How had life treated him up until now? What did he do with his life? Had he found that... significant other?

She was very familiar with her ebony friend and knew not to bombard him with countless questions. It was important too remain calm if you didn't want to incur his verbal wrath. She calmed her free flowing thoughts and began with a harmless, subtle question.

"How are you, Shadow?" she asked, turning her head to him with a practiced look of contempt.

The ebony responded with the rebirth of his penetrating eyes as the lids fluttered open at the melodic question the lulled from the rose's lips. He turned his head to her with a slightly blank and baffled expression. How had he been? How was he feeling? He simply did not know. At least he had a difficult time expressing himself to her, the one hedgehog who left her emotions out on her sleeve for everyone to see. But he'd noticed the difference in her apparel. She no longer wore the truth as a breast plate to protect her. Her new facade was a real mask that clouded over her dreary thoughts and feelings. But he'd watched her create her mask over these three years... so he did not have to guess this...

"I am... fairing well, Rose. But what about you? You do not see your friends on a regular basis like before. What has changed?"

The rose seemed perplexed by his question. I guess that is what happens when your social skills are a little rusty.