Pause for Disclaimer--
This literary work of fanfiction belongs to its author and may not be used for profit without the notified permission of the specified author. The characters, settings, references and given background mentioned, and, or depicted, aside from the happenings of the plot itself, is the property of the following- Archie Comics, SEGA Corporation and DiC Productions and any other organizations not mentioned in these listings possessing ownership of property that is related to Sonic the Hedgehog. All other terms stated in Title 17 of the U.S. Code concerning copyright laws apply.
- - -
"Alluring Adventure"
I wondered what adventure allured me to these forests,
those far-off forests where he lay in waiting,
to the towering pines and great oaks
to the lush greens and ferns that grew abundant there
from the sun-dappled forest floor.
As if I hurried quickly enough,
then I could catch up
to that quick, blue adventurer darting through the trees,
part the boughs through the tangled overgrowth
and unearth some Knothole Village of my own-
the rustic, hay huts nestled in lush greenery
and embosomed in sunshine and shade wherever the boughs parted,
to tread down that beaten, dirt path
drawn in rickety, grated timber fences trailing through the woodlands,
the untamed, emerald glory of these forests,
where the air is warm and welcoming.
For familiar faces, friends, genuine laughter and the summer warmth...
I don't know that I would find Sonic there. Rather,
I think I'd prefer it that way, for I think it is that alluring adventure that keeps me going, that happiness,
that discovery is just out of my reach.
That is why Sonic is what he is, what keeps him running...
Its as if,
if he hurries quickly enough,
darting through the trees,
his ears perked for listening to whistles on the winds,
with the flutter of every restless bird's wing,
the twitch of woodland life,
the snap of a twig,
the exotic noises,
the chorus of bullfrogs and swamp things,
the creep of swamp decay,
that there's this earthly rhythm to the earth that heaves in the soil
and gurgles in the brook,
that groans in the trees,
that beating pulse of his sneakers pounding at the dirt,
the heave of his panting,
if he kept his animal instincts keener,
those senses attuned to the natures around him,
he might pick something up.
That there is where adventure lies,
alluring in the glint of emerald green eyes..