Summary: Again, she thought she was alone. No one will listen. No one will hear her out. It seems as though no one even wants her around. Except the tribes most renowned warrior, who sees the despair and isolation.

Skippy's Words: Another story with Tikal! Yay! I've been totally loving up on Tikal at the moment…mostly because I was drawin porn of her last night. So now I'm gonna write with her for a while…or at least think about what to do as far as stories go. Keep in mind that in my stories she's back in her time only she's a bit older so…yeah. The events still happen I just delayed it a bit to give Tikal a bit more flesh as a character. Hope you don't mind and if so don't bother reading. It's that simple.

Disclaimer/Claimer: Sonic Team owns Sonic the Hedgehog and all of it's characters and is blessed by SEGA for licensing and producing it for us to see and play and fall in love with. Sorry to those who hate original character, but if done right, they work. I'm practicing with Kiros at the moment, who I half claim. His personality and background is from my head while I got his form from the Sonic Adventure game I've just recently beat and now I'm completing 100%

Tears to Share

Crystal blue skies rich as any light blue gem surround puffy white clouds that stand tall, shading the earth with a soft shade. Down below grass murmurs softly as wind shuffles through the many strands, causing the lush green to flicker different shades. Flowers open, full in bloom as they soak up the sun's rays, colors of pastels littering the open field with grace. Surrounded by large mountains that tower up to the heavens, snow peaks seeming to disappear from sight. The abundance of animals is high as many scurry for food while at the same time making sure to evade predators. Bugs make light buzzing sounds, birds chirp across the meadow and small mammals let out gentle cooing sounds while checking their surroundings. All of these being the whispers of Mother Nature, the true beauty in life.

However, there is something else that can be heard through out what most would say is just background noise.

The gentle sobs of a girl.

The one known as Tikal rests on a small boulder, tears having past the point of filling her eyes, now cascading down tawny fur in steady streams. She sticks out rather well considering the color of her pelt, the light pinkish tan nothing short from obnoxious as she rests in greens of all shades. Today, she could not stand the idea of being near her living quarters, the settlement where her people live, or the shrine that holds the many gems that have a mysterious past. Reason being?

A selfish yet intelligent elder male by the titled name of Chief Pachacamac.

Another ceremony was held in tribute to the warriors that had died in combat while at the same time one was thrown for the celebration of obtaining another set of land, those who died did not give their lives for nothing. To a certain sixteen year old, this was getting old. Everyday people were dying, rather it be their own warriors or others not of their tribe. No matter how it is polished, it wasn't right. War could be helpful but Pachacamac was overusing it as well as abusing it's power. The losing of lives was starting to get to Tikal, the true potential of her people being drown in the cold, dark waters of greed.

The young woman feared that it was too late to save her people, and she knew her father was beyond saving though she still had hope for him.

Tikal had enough. During the ceremony, the spiritual girl had located her father and spoke her mind, only this time she did not back down. She pressed on further than ever before.

"This has to end Father"

"What nonsense to you speak of now, Tikal?"

"Can't you see what is happening to our people?"

"You, my dear, fail to see what is happening"

Now that Tikal thought about it, the timing could have been better. She was just so upset with what was happening around her. Seven people had died, three of them she knew well seeing as how she had grown up with them though they did nothing but ridicule her for her beliefs. She couldn't help but get angry that they had taken out a neighboring colony of goannas for their land and riches. The lizards' possessions littered the tables and ground by Tikal's feet, the shining gold and silver shone brightly in the sunlight above her. Almost all of the innocents were killed, the rest were left to fend for themselves, start over from scratch with the little hope that they will survive with such a small number. The youngest ones had been taken with in hopes of training them in a settlement camp to become warriors at their disposal. It was seeing the young goannas that pushed the echidna too far. Kicking some of the riches that her father had stolen from a peaceful race, the teen storms her way up the temple to speak to her father with the closest thing in her that made her apart of her people. Anger and hate, and the nerve to show them at any means necessary.

"Look around. Our way of life is dying. Our people can no longer-"

"We have been through this before and I have told you time and time again that you must move on from your opinion and learn the ways of your people"

"The way of our people is to take what we want and to slaughter those who get in our way"

"We take what we deserve Tikal, why can you not see this?"

Replaying the scene in her head, Tikal wipes the tears from her eyes, sniffling quite loudly in the calming air around her. She knew she was right. Fighting didn't' get anyone anywhere. All she had to do was convince enough people, than her life would be easier and doing the good thing would mean more around her. She was almost alone, the only person who agreed she was right was a warrior, and he had to hide it or be stripped of his title and perhaps even be executed as a sign of both dishonor and betrayal to his people. Tikal knew all she needed was time, however, this had been going on for generations. She felt as if she were at a loss here. There just seemed to be no hope, not even in the dreams she had been having. She had a feeling that her father would bring an end to more than just his people.

"Father, I beg you, please stop"

"Tikal, this is getting ridiculous. You are the only person who things that the world can continue in peace. It simply cannot"

"But it can, you just won't open your eyes to see this because you are blinded by absolute greed and power!"

"Enough! You will leave this ceremony at once and I will not see you until tomorrow"

Tears flood puffy red eyes upon remembering that voice raise in anger. Tikal was never a reason for her father's yelling. It was true that she angered him and frustrated him to no end, however, he never raised his voice to her. Usually these arguments were calm, Pachacamac at least pretending to listen to his ambitious daughter's thoughts and opinions. The elder knew she was strong and knew she'd make a great leader, if only she had followed his ways and the way of his people that he had designed. He had honestly thought that what her need for peace was just a stage seeing as how she was a female and emotional. However, as the years went by, her opinions became stronger and her ability to voice them increased as well. He never would have thought that he would have so many troubles controlling his only child. And her outbursts were getting more and more noticeable. To make matters worse, today she had done so in front of some of his best warriors and friends. Finally, after many years of trying to keep his daughter out of sight, along with her opinions on life, Tikal made it too hard to continue pushing aside. She was going to learn their ways of life or keep silent.

"But Father-"

"Tikal…you are nothing more than a disappointment to not only to me but your people as well. So long as you fight our ways, you will never belong nor will you be welcomed…"

Those words echoes thought out the young girl's mind, tears gushing out. She had never heard her father say those words, not even to his warriors. It was too much to take. Her mother had died when she was young, having been murdered by a now no longer existing tribe of wolves who went by the Diggers Tribe. Tikal never could remember her grandfather and her grandmother passed away while she was still pretty young. All she had was her father, and now, she was a disgrace to him, and his name and title was the most important thing to him.

"Leave before I have you escorted"

"No"

"What was that?"

That was the first time she had disobeyed anyone much less her father.

"I will no longer be pushed around. One day, you will be sorry that you did not listen to me. You will regret the years of ignoring me and pushing me away, out of sight."

"Hold your tongue!"

"I will not be quiet any longer! I am not one of your mindless slaves, I am your daughter! I have a mind of my own, I do not, nor should I, be ordered around"

"Guards, remove her from these grounds immediately!"

Never before had she been escorted from the lands of her home.

Being a girl with no combat training, Tikal was removed fairly quickly but not without a fight. Two warriors had to grab hold of her flailing arms and yank her out of the temple, kicking and screaming. The ruckus caught a lot of both wanted and unwanted attention. Tikal was hoping to have someone actually look her way while her father wanted her gone. The isolated girl screamed everything that she could as loud as she could. Everything she thought wrong, everything she believed to be right, even things about her father that she probably should have kept to herself. She was angry and frustrated.

Now, alone in a field while her people celebrated the death of their friends and gain of territory, Tikal feels disheartened, unable to keep her feelings to herself as she sobs loudly. Her body shakes slightly in the sun, the rays heating up her fur as if an attempt to make her feel better, that not all hope was lost.

The gentle background noise seemed to have quieted, listening to the tears of the only one who could make a difference to the world, simply by showing a powerful race the values of peace and harmony. Tikal couldn't help but feel as if everyone hated her. As if her people hated her because she was trying to change their lives. As if her ancestors hated her for changing the ways of their decadences lives after many generations. As if her father hated her simply for the fact that she had different opinions than him. It seemed that everyone wanted her to rule a civilization of murders who want nothing but power and riches.

It was almost too much to take.

Just as Tikal was ready to burst out in another fit of crying, a pair of strong hands rest gently on her quivering shoulders. Startled, the crying teen moves her gaze from the grass by her feet to the one behind her, the only one who could connect with her in her tribe. "Kiros?"

Violet eyes filled with concern and kindness shine down on her, a smile forming on a bronze muzzle. "It will be okay Tikal" is said with such certainty that it shook the girl more than her father's words.

Tears swell once more. "How? How can you be so sure?" The emotion of her sadness and frustration is thick in her voice as it raises in pitch and is barely audible. Her appearance wasn't the best. With her eyes red and the flesh around them puffy and soaked, she looked worn out, as if she hadn't slept for days. Her dreads were a bid disheveled, being tossed around why Tikal fought in the grasp of her father's soldiers. She wore the a designed skirt similar to the ones she normally wore, that's length was still down to her knees, the material clean. Suede sandals still worn on her feet, worn out and fading. She also wore a sleeveless white top that stopped just above her bellybutton, a shirt that now fits her form a bit snugger than that in the past. The gold band still claims her hair, the sapphires shining with a royal gleam as the surrounding jewels of smaller sizes shimmered. The necklace still hung around her neck, along with the gold bands on her upper arms though now two claim her ankles.

Kiros' keen eyes pick up on two added things. The first being the flushed cheeks under the girl's light fur, the second being the forming bruises on her arms near the gleaming bands of gold, embroidered gems and designs. It was hard to see, but the bruises were forming, a light tinge of purplish blue fading into place. "I don't." He honestly answers, setting his large, ungloved hands on the girl's narrow waist, lifting her with ease. "You can never be so sure about anything." The male rests himself on the bolder that Tikal was sitting on moments ago. "Some times, things just change. One cannot avoid it." Once seated, Kiros pulls the younger teen between his legs, Tikal settling herself on the boulder as well.

"I know." Tikal quickly agrees, resting her back against the furred chest behind her. "I just wish it was sometimes." Now in the presence of the only one who can seem to understand her, Tikal calms down, tears drying in her eyes as her body settles down enough to stop shaking.

"What fun would that be?" Kiros smiles, looking to they sky, admiring the beauty. "That would allow us to get our way more than we probably deserve." He explains with a distant expression. "I believe we should work for everything we get."

"But my father-"

"As horrible as it is, he did work for everything he owns." The male sighs heavily, returning to Earth. "He just went about it wrong."

Thinking about this, Tikal realizes the truth of those words. "I know…I just…I don't know…" Light blue eyes flicker downward, filling with sorrow. "I wish he would at least listen to me."

Wishing to help out his friend, Kiros remains silent, unable to think of a way to help the situation. Finding nothing, the warrior of honor slides his arms around tawny bronze fur, wrapping his arms around Tikal's middle. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something. All I can say is…these things take time."

A smile forms on a light tan muzzle. "I know. You don't have to say anything." Tikal stares into the scene in front of her, now in a better mood to take in the sight that she so recklessly ignored though with reason. Color was slowly beginning to slide its way into her life.

"But I wish to make you smile Tikal." Kiros says through a smile, resting his chin on the girl's shoulder. Immediately he feels the girl stiffen in surprise before she tilted her head slightly to see him. The expression she wore was so adorable. "I feel horrible when you frown, and back home, it's all you do. It slowly kills me inside to see this day after day. You are slowly braking and there is nothing I can do to stop it except be there for you."

Needless to say, Tikal was speechless.

"It seems that I am not doing enough for you and my being the best warrior under your father's command is not helping in the least."

Blushing under her fur, Tikal closes her eyes gently before speaking. "You are doing so much for me Kiros." The young echidna presses closer to the older teen behind her, nuzzling his face with her now dry cheek. "Though you are my father's best soldier, you have yet to take a life on purpose." This was true. Kiros, the most notorious combatant of the Knuckles Tribe, had been rewarded with many privileges and titles in the name of war, honor and skills and he has yet to take a life with intention. Raised with much skill in both field combat and medical, the youth knows where to hit other anthros to render their body temporarily useless. The only time anyone had died was either because they were being stubborn and in the amidst of battle there was a slight miscalculation or if he was ordered to do an execution. And even then, each time, he prayed for their safe passage in the after life. "And that fact alone is more than anything anyone else had done for me."

"Just do me a favor Tikal." Returning the nuzzle, Kiros shifts his hands across a umber belly, the soft fur warm to the touch.

Unable to fight the blush working it's way to her already warm cheeks, the female echidna shivers slightly. "And what is that?"

"Smile a little more."

A small giggle is heard from the girl, smile plastered to her face along with the crimson tinge under her pale cheek fur. "I'll work on that." Raising her own hands, Tikal drags her hands across long forearms, fingertips grazing over darker fur and then the white markings on each hand before finding fuchsia fingers, lacing their way through them.

Yet again, the nature surrounding them is ignored, nothing more than background noise as the two outcasts remain in each others arms, clearly lost in each other's eyes.

They may be the only ones who seem to believe in a better world, but at least they were not alone.

They had invisible tears to shed.