Chapter Two:

Someone that will return again

Professor Charles sighed as the man eyed his guest bed, a fold out could bed. It was old and slightly lumpy yes, but at the same time it was easy to replace the mattress and the blankets repaired if any damaged came from the now slumbering form on it. The anthro was sprawled out at an angle and he was in a limp, almost boneless seeming sleep.

It had been a long time since the man had seen any anthro, and never this fart north. Not that he saw many people here at his second house, a cabin out in the middle of nowhere that he inherited years ago, it was between the California and Oregon border. The semi isolation was why the Professor liked it out here, the nearest village of Thatched was close enough to get supplies, but not so close to be easily bothered.

Most of the time.

The man was out here to write his next book. One of his adventures from his past in the jungles of one of the first Zones discovered. Recounting the dangers and wonder of those months, of exotic plants, animals and even people, human and anthro alike, the graceful beauties that loved painting skin, scale, feather and fur with bright colors at night to keep back the dark ness. Proud and tall warrior males that hunted or checked small patches of farmed earth away from the safety of protected villages.

The Guardians, the impossible reality of anthro's with inhuman abilities from the raw strength to snap a tree in half. He recounted the roomers of speed or as some whispered those that could move this with their auroras and not look. The lines with a Guardian in them were known in that Zone by how an anthro's fur was a different color then the normal. As an albino or a morph color.

Professor Charles leaned back in his chair, looking to his right where his notes and pictures where lauded out. He regarded the blue fur of his guest, and wondered a bit. Wishing that he hand another month in that Zone at least, or for another trip...

Hm, maybe… just maybe he could go back on his own dime, with all the sales form his books it was possible. The grey eyed man had enough material to have tree books at any given time.

After checking the hedgehog anthro over the man sat back down at his desk, looking over his notes to see where he had left off before going to investigate the crashing beyond his drive. He had the now rather sad looking and crumpled speed limit sign was resting in as much peace as it could on his front lawn.

"Ah," Charles smiled as he re-read the last few lines. The he continued explaining what he would never forget.

Seeing the massive winged reptiles that some considered only myth. Of how they had and almost symbiotic relationship with the natives. While the intelligent creatures stood guard over a chosen village, the inhabitance in turned would care for the nest with either eggs or hatchlings inside. Of how he had been aloud, even if supervised, to see the priceless, treasured eggs where they rested in the center open hut of the village where everyone could be protective space. Charles remembered even now the feel of the leathery shells that were both soft and strong at the same time. About the width and size of a basketball, just more oval shaped.

It had been a thrill on its own, two hold and cradle a real live dragon egg. Though he was known to mean no harm, the Professor hadn't been able to help a shiver as the mother lowered her head first to peer in. metal hard muscles rippling under brown scaly hide, her stripes seeming to ripple like stirred up leaf-cover.

The winged male had ducked his head inside, but to flick out a forked touch to playfully lick two of the shadowing youth. He had hopped away nimbly and had, surprisingly, played a game of tag with the village youth, fanning his wings now and then. The real shocker to the outsiders was the fearlessness displayed by the children as they had scrambled all over the dragon when he finally stretched out in the afternoon sun to dose, tolerantly letting them play on his form and under limp wings.

Professor Charles looked up at hearing a tapping on his window, drawn out gently, at least in comparison to the night before, from his work. A blue jay was peering in with the dawn light. It tapped its beak against the glass of the window, wanting in as much for the small bowl of bird seed as well as to get a pet as it had done almost every day for the past month. The man leaned over and after unlatching the window, spun the mechanism that opened the window.

The bird happily came in with four double hops, pausing to except the stroke of fingers over its back and wings before investigating the bow near the window.

Charles watch his 'wild pet' as ran a hand over one of his few personal features that the man took a good amount of pride in. The long, luxuriant pepper and salt mustache, it liked to twitch and bristle now and then on his upper lip when something interesting was happening or about to. Like it was doing right now.

The man turned as he picked up that a background sound of the not quiet snoring of the anthro. It didn't seem to be any awake or waking up sounds that he knew of, and Charles had seen quite a few people over the years and the differing sleeping habits. Though there were some things that were if not the same then similar, and on the flip side sometimes you came across something you never seen. Or heard.

He chuckled softly, aware of the blue jay attempting to pull the pen out of his fingers, in retaliation he poked a wing with the pen. As the bird started a rather one sided 'fight' with the pen, Charles looked around his cabin, it was fairly open, with the fire place behind him warming the place. 'L' shaped the cabin seemed to be as old as he was, but also withstanding the weathering just as well if not better.

Pulling his lap top back into place, and letting the jay have the pen cap to add to his nest. The Professor started in explaining the legions behind the jungle dragons and Guardians, he slowly got reabsorbed in his writing and memories of not only that trip but a few others to reference.

Coming across a note for Fox Valley, the man paused to consider. That Zone was Oregon, and relatively speaking not that far away. Maybe he could go there for an interview, Fox Valley had a Guardian. One that matched the descriptions of those in the jungle Zone, maybe he would be willing to talk. When hunger penetrated his focus, and the Professor looked up to find it late afternoon instead of morning.

"Ooohh, worked on this too long... need some food and get the blood flowing. What the?" Professor Charles had stood, stretched, waiting for the brief dizzy moment to pass before turning around.

The anthro was gone.

Taking a deep breath, Charles looked around the cabin. From around the couch bed to the other side of the fireplace. His bedroom, the pantry and laundry room proved empty of any blue furred anthro. The second door was unlocked like the 'front door' so the man walked out onto the covered deck, looking around. It had started to drizzle outside, and he walked alone the shelter of the wrap around porch that was covered as well. There were some foot prints, and a pair of shoes were missing from and outside rack, as well as a bag.

"I hope you can trust human sonny," Professor Charles said looking up at the nearest of the many fruit and nut trees around his home. By the looks of it the earliest of the harvest was nipped. And Charles just couldn't begrudge that or bag, and wished the anthro the best of luck as he watched the rain fall.

In the wet, the anthro in question was sighing, pulling his new backpack in with him into a long since abandoned barn. It was heavy full of apples and peaches, and a hand full of walnuts, but the thought that maybe Sonic would have been better off where he woke up didn't even seem to click with him. It hadn't been fear the drove him to leave, but this new odd, but welcoming instinct to move.

Though unknowing, this wouldn't be the last time Sonic would see Charles. Though they would more proper meet that time with the company of a nomad and lost kit.