Wow! Thanks for all the really nice reviews. I might not get chapters
up so fast because of homework and everything (I've got a lot this year) so
anyway here's a new chapter that answers some questions.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except for Joseph, Sega owns
everyone else.
Mighty lifted Amy's head and tilted the cup filled with the fruit juice from Knuckles so it would go down her throat. The juice smelled so good and warm, that he himself was almost tempted to drink some if it, but he refrained. How could Amy get better if he drank all the medicine? He watched her for another hour or so, and slowly her breathing became less labored and more steady, and finally after two hours the hedgehog's eyes began to flutter and she coughed twice. Slowly sitting up, she smoothed out her quills, blinked a few times and then looked around the room. Her eyes focused on Mighty for a few seconds but then she looked around again. After a few minutes she finally spoke,
"Umm," she began and then coughed a few more times, as Mighty moved closer and almost patted her on the back for assurance but then stopped himself, "what happened?"
"You worked too hard," he began softly, "you fainted and could have died if we didn't bring you here and if Knuckles didn't make some medicine for you. You need to keep resting, no training for a while, okay?" Amy sighed and shrugged, she would have protested if she actually had any energy, but she was completely drained. There was nothing she could say.
"Where are Knuckles and Rouge now?"
"They went to sleep, its kind of late."
"Oh." Amy rubbed her head and attempted to remember what had happened before she fainted. She had gone into one her trances again while training.while they helped her training, as she looked back on it, it scared her. She shivered a bit and in response Mighty handed her more of the warm fruit juice. She accepted it and sipped some of it and handed it back.
"You know, you talked in your sleep," Mighty said matter of factly.
"Oh," Amy responded distantly. She really didn't care, and didn't understand why the Armadillo was bringing it up.
"You were talking about your hammer, and some other stuff too." Amy bristled; she was in no mood to discuss such things right now. She didn't respond and hoped that Mighty got the hint that she didn't want to talk about that.
"Were you talking about this?" from behind his back, Mighty produced that hammer and Amy stared at it for a few moments not knowing what to think. A wave a emotions filled her and she was really quite unsure of what to think or feel at all. She finally reached out one of her heads, and touched her old hammer gently, just to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Feeling the hammer against her skin again gave her feelings of nostalgia and for a while she was lost in the memories of warm apple pies that her mother used to make or the warm feel of the fire near her skin in the Mythral forge. And she remembered Josesph's kind, old smile. She picked it up finally an pulled it towards her body in disbelief that she had ever thrown it away.
"Who is Joseph and what is a Mythral smith?" Mighty asked inquisitively. Though Mighty loved to travel the world and had visited many places in his lifetime, he had never heard of Joseph or a Mythral smith before. Mighty's question snapped Amy out of her walk down memory lane. She didn't respond immediately but instead stared down at her hands which had lost the roughness they once had when she practiced forging everyday. Was she still a Mythral smith? Did that part of her even exist? Or had it died with. "Amy," Mighty began again.
"Erm, a Mythral smith is someone who can forge something into a magical material out of any metal. You need a special hammer and you need talent. Josesph is.erm.was the last in a long line of Mythral smiths, but he had no children, so I guess the art died." Amy looked down at the hammer again remembering Joseph. But wasn't she supposed to forget this part of her life! She had to throw away the hammer again and get back to training. But she couldn't get rid of it, not again, it was hard enough the first time.
"Oh, so why do you have a hammer that makes Mythral?" Amy's mind struggled with this question. Her conscious told her not to answer and that she was supposed have moved on and forgotten everything, but her sub conscious seemed to have other ideas. Without her wanting it, her memory thrust her back to the day that she had first met Joseph and learned about Mythral forging. And against her will, her lips began to move and tell the story, as if her memory had wanted to tell it for ages, but couldn't until now.
"I was like four or five, and my mother was taking me from our farm to the market," Amy stopped for a second to hold back tears and emotion from leaking into her prose, as she remembered her mothers vibrant and deep crimson colored fur and the gentleness of her touch. "Mother had bought everything that she needed and we were walking back home when I saw these pretty rainbow colored lights bursting from the door of a building, and I wanted more than anything to go see what was making them, but mother didn't seem to notice them at all and she was walking with her head turned the other way. But I needed to go to the lights, so I let go of her hand and charged as fast I could towards the entrance to the building, and slammed right into Joseph's leg. I remember looking up at him and thinking he was the biggest and scariest man I had ever seen. He was huge and a light sage green color with large blue-gray eyes and a thick black mustache. I almost ran away until he spoke in the kindest voice I had ever heard, 'What are you doing here, little miss. Don't you know this is no place for little children,' he finished and then began to gently push me out of the forge but I slipped through his grasp and ran back to the lights. They were coming from the fire in the forge, and without even thinking I thrust my hand into the fire. It didn't burn, and I felt energized and completely amazing. I heard Joseph yell, and then my mother's shriller scream followed his and he swiftly picked me up and pulled my hand out of the fire. 'Go get some water,' he barked at my mother as he examined my hand which was completely unscathed, and instead glowing with all the lights. I giggled happily because they tickled, and Joseph looked at me in amazement. 'Never mind!' He said back to my mother, 'she doesn't need anything.'
"The next thing I knew, Joseph was talking excitedly to my mother about me being some sort of prodigy, he said 'Most Mythral smiths can't even stick their hands in Mythral fire like that and take them out unharmed until they have at least five years of experience, and your daughter has never even been to a Mythral forge before, and she did it right off the bat. Its amazing! Are you sure no on in your family has ever been a mythral smith?' My mother politely responded no and then grabbed the other hand that hadn't gone into the fire and politely suggested that after all that excitement we should leave, and was starting to walk out the door despite my whining. 'Amy,' she pleaded as she pulled me away, 'the nice man has to get back to work, and he doesn't need a little kid bothering him.' 'My, my, no family heritage and so young too! Bet this'd be a smack in the face to old Randy who used to insist that males with family history make the best mythral smiths,' Joseph was rambling to himself excitedly until he noticed that my mom was pulling me out the door. 'Wait! Wait!' Joseph began and moved towards my mother, 'where are you going? You're daughter is a prodigy, she must become my apprentice!' My mother stopped and sighed, 'My daughter is much to young to be playing around in a dangerous place like this," my mother retorted as she tightened her grip on my hand so I wouldn't run away. 'It wouldn't be playing,' Joseph responded, 'she'd be learning a trade, and a good one at that!'
"My mother ignored him and we went home, but later that day when my father returned from work I told him all about how I ran into the forge and stuff, and how Joseph had told me I was really amazing. My father in turn, asked my mother about what happened, and she explained, while adding points here and there in the story about her opinion on me being taught to be a Mythral smith. My father disagreed with her though. He said, 'Honey, were you crazy? Do you know what kind of an honor it would be for our daughter to be a Mythral smith? Aside from showing talent, she clearly wants to do it! Why else would she have been so attracted to those lights!' My mother sighed and turned her back to my father, 'And having a five year old running around a forge isn't dangerous?' My father breathed in deeply and smiled at me, and then looked at my mother, 'I'll go with her everyday after work, at least until she gets older. And if it is really dangerous or I think something is wrong then I will bring her home.' My mother snorted and looked back at him, 'Fine.'
"The lessons began the next day, and I didn't begin forging for two years, but I did learn the basics and how to concentrate your mind and how to discipline yourself to completely concentrate and put all your energy into one task which is what one needs to do in order to be a good Mythral smith. I also had to do many different arm strengthening exercises. My father came to the first few ones, but he eventually began to trust Joseph, and so did my mother. When I was seven I was able to forge some things and I forged simple and small things at first, and they came out pretty well, but I only got better with practice. I made mistakes but not nearly as many as much as other beginning smiths tend to make. Joseph seemed to grow more and more amazed with my ability, and every time someone was skeptical he invited them to watch me forge something. I came to be a sort of legend in my home town and everyone knew who I was."
"Wow," Mighty said after the hedgehog had stopped speaking. Amy grabbed more of the warm fruit juice and drank some more. She then nodded and looked away. "That's amazing, we had some blacksmiths back in my hometown, but I never heard of mythral smith before. And I have traveled quite a lot. I wonder why? And have you forged anything recently? And why did you want to get rid of the hammer?" Amy stared at the hammer in her hands and asked herself the same question that Mighty had just said to her. Why did she want to get rid of her hammer in the first place? Why did she want to eradicate her past? There is no way to completely do that, and yet she has been trying. But what is someone without a past? They are an infant, a naïve child. Yet Amy was an adult now, and she could not start over from day one, furthermore, would completely starting over be a good thing? Her memories flowed through her mind like a movie, or a play, and they warmed, upset, bored, and excited her, and she imagined for one second, fearfully, what it would be like to loose them, even the unpleasant ones. The thought of unpleasant memories cause her mind to jump ahead to the event she had been trying to forget more than any of the others, and the thought of reliving it again sent her reeling. She nearly fainted again, and Mighty, who sensed her weakness caught her back to relax and comfort her. She shook her head and he removed his hand.
"I remember the last day I was ever at my village, I was almost twelve," Amy began. She had hidden from this story for way too long, and now was the time to tell it, despite the fact that part of her was still protesting. "Everyone was in ruins," she stopped and remembered the first thing she had seen was her house a blaze, and if front of it were he parent's dead bodies with open, staring and accusing eyes and disappointed expressions, as if they were disappointed with her. She had run from them to try and forget the scene, as if it had never happened, but everywhere she looked, she found houses on fire, and people dead or dying, and she just couldn't stand it so she ran further and further away, as she tried to run faster than the smell of burnt flesh that had permeated into her nose. "Everyone was dead," was all she told Mighty, she couldn't stand to describe details without bursting into tears. "The last place I visited was Joseph's house, and he was dead to, but he had a package for me. It was to be my birthday present two days later, and even though everything else had burned, the package hadn't. I picked it up and opened it, and I found the hammer inside. For a moment I was delighted that Joseph had finally decided I was good enough for to get my own hammer and begin forging things on my own, but then I looked and remembered that everything was burning, so I ran, and didn't stop until I got to Chronopolis. And there was Sonic, but before I could do anything, a robot came flying out of the air and captured me. It was metal sonic, and he brought me to Robotnik."
Her voice trailed off, and Mighty looked at her quizzically.
"Where were you when the city was destroyed?" Amy winced and then responded,
"Sonic had visited our town the day before, in search of eggman because he heard he had come to our town for the gifted Mythral smith. I thought he was talking about Joseph, so when Sonic went adventuring, I followed him because I wanted to save Joseph from Robotnik, and while I followed him, I started to first have my crush on Sonic. When we got back from the forest, I returned to my village to find it the way I described.Robotnik had destroyed it when they wouldn't tell him where I was. He was looking for me, not Joseph, and if I had been there," she bit her lip so hard that it started to bleed to keep from crying, but she could hold out no longer, and tears that had been waiting eight years to be she poured out of her. Mighty gently wrapped his arm around her in an attempt to comfort her, while she cried. She cried for hours and Mighty thought pensively, as he found that a hate for Robotnik was growing inside of him. He had never liked the man, but burning Amy's village like that had gone much too far? The only thing that made no sense to him was why Amy had never tried to find revenge and never seemed to be affected more than anyone else in Robotnik's presence. Had Amy blamed herself because she had not been there when it happened? Did she think it was her fault that the village had burned? Most people would have developed a resentment against Sonic leading them in the wrong direction or would have hated Robotnik for killing everyone. But Amy had done the opposite; she had put all the blame on herself. Had she slowly been killing herself all this time, and it did not reach its climax until she threw away her hammer and in doing so tried to get rid of every connection she had to her past, and things she did for herself and not just because it was for Sonic or to get Sonic? When she was done she wiped her eyes, and was quite surprised that she had told Mighty all that. She had never even told Sonic or even Rouge, but talking to Mighty just seemed so comfortable. It as almost as if she had known Mighty for far longer than she really had. She remembered Sonic again, and thinking of him reminded her of the speed contest.
"I'm still going to enter that race," she said in a strained voice, and Mighty nodded nervously. She cought on to his nervousness, and said "No but I won't train like before, I don't want to be a machine." She remembered back to her training as a mythral smith in which she was told draw on the power of her emotions in order to forge something, but when she had trained before, she in a sense tried to eradicate her past, herself, and in essence she had attempted to completely dehumanize [a/n:dehedghogize? Whatever I hope you get the point anyway].
"Good," Mighty said with a smile. "I will hold your hammer for you while you run?" he asked gently, trying not to insult her. She gave him a weak smile, "yeah, that sounds like a good plan."
Okay that's it for today, I hope this one doesn't have too many typos and grammar edits, but sorry if it does. The story's far from over though! And I'm sorry if it doesn't get updated as often as some of you might like but I have lots of school work so I hope this long chapter will be good. Anyway, tell me what you think of it. NEXT TIME ON AMY's ADMIRER: Amy enters the National Speed Contest. Will she win? Will she beat Sonic? Will she gain his respect? And what will Mighty think?
Mighty lifted Amy's head and tilted the cup filled with the fruit juice from Knuckles so it would go down her throat. The juice smelled so good and warm, that he himself was almost tempted to drink some if it, but he refrained. How could Amy get better if he drank all the medicine? He watched her for another hour or so, and slowly her breathing became less labored and more steady, and finally after two hours the hedgehog's eyes began to flutter and she coughed twice. Slowly sitting up, she smoothed out her quills, blinked a few times and then looked around the room. Her eyes focused on Mighty for a few seconds but then she looked around again. After a few minutes she finally spoke,
"Umm," she began and then coughed a few more times, as Mighty moved closer and almost patted her on the back for assurance but then stopped himself, "what happened?"
"You worked too hard," he began softly, "you fainted and could have died if we didn't bring you here and if Knuckles didn't make some medicine for you. You need to keep resting, no training for a while, okay?" Amy sighed and shrugged, she would have protested if she actually had any energy, but she was completely drained. There was nothing she could say.
"Where are Knuckles and Rouge now?"
"They went to sleep, its kind of late."
"Oh." Amy rubbed her head and attempted to remember what had happened before she fainted. She had gone into one her trances again while training.while they helped her training, as she looked back on it, it scared her. She shivered a bit and in response Mighty handed her more of the warm fruit juice. She accepted it and sipped some of it and handed it back.
"You know, you talked in your sleep," Mighty said matter of factly.
"Oh," Amy responded distantly. She really didn't care, and didn't understand why the Armadillo was bringing it up.
"You were talking about your hammer, and some other stuff too." Amy bristled; she was in no mood to discuss such things right now. She didn't respond and hoped that Mighty got the hint that she didn't want to talk about that.
"Were you talking about this?" from behind his back, Mighty produced that hammer and Amy stared at it for a few moments not knowing what to think. A wave a emotions filled her and she was really quite unsure of what to think or feel at all. She finally reached out one of her heads, and touched her old hammer gently, just to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Feeling the hammer against her skin again gave her feelings of nostalgia and for a while she was lost in the memories of warm apple pies that her mother used to make or the warm feel of the fire near her skin in the Mythral forge. And she remembered Josesph's kind, old smile. She picked it up finally an pulled it towards her body in disbelief that she had ever thrown it away.
"Who is Joseph and what is a Mythral smith?" Mighty asked inquisitively. Though Mighty loved to travel the world and had visited many places in his lifetime, he had never heard of Joseph or a Mythral smith before. Mighty's question snapped Amy out of her walk down memory lane. She didn't respond immediately but instead stared down at her hands which had lost the roughness they once had when she practiced forging everyday. Was she still a Mythral smith? Did that part of her even exist? Or had it died with. "Amy," Mighty began again.
"Erm, a Mythral smith is someone who can forge something into a magical material out of any metal. You need a special hammer and you need talent. Josesph is.erm.was the last in a long line of Mythral smiths, but he had no children, so I guess the art died." Amy looked down at the hammer again remembering Joseph. But wasn't she supposed to forget this part of her life! She had to throw away the hammer again and get back to training. But she couldn't get rid of it, not again, it was hard enough the first time.
"Oh, so why do you have a hammer that makes Mythral?" Amy's mind struggled with this question. Her conscious told her not to answer and that she was supposed have moved on and forgotten everything, but her sub conscious seemed to have other ideas. Without her wanting it, her memory thrust her back to the day that she had first met Joseph and learned about Mythral forging. And against her will, her lips began to move and tell the story, as if her memory had wanted to tell it for ages, but couldn't until now.
"I was like four or five, and my mother was taking me from our farm to the market," Amy stopped for a second to hold back tears and emotion from leaking into her prose, as she remembered her mothers vibrant and deep crimson colored fur and the gentleness of her touch. "Mother had bought everything that she needed and we were walking back home when I saw these pretty rainbow colored lights bursting from the door of a building, and I wanted more than anything to go see what was making them, but mother didn't seem to notice them at all and she was walking with her head turned the other way. But I needed to go to the lights, so I let go of her hand and charged as fast I could towards the entrance to the building, and slammed right into Joseph's leg. I remember looking up at him and thinking he was the biggest and scariest man I had ever seen. He was huge and a light sage green color with large blue-gray eyes and a thick black mustache. I almost ran away until he spoke in the kindest voice I had ever heard, 'What are you doing here, little miss. Don't you know this is no place for little children,' he finished and then began to gently push me out of the forge but I slipped through his grasp and ran back to the lights. They were coming from the fire in the forge, and without even thinking I thrust my hand into the fire. It didn't burn, and I felt energized and completely amazing. I heard Joseph yell, and then my mother's shriller scream followed his and he swiftly picked me up and pulled my hand out of the fire. 'Go get some water,' he barked at my mother as he examined my hand which was completely unscathed, and instead glowing with all the lights. I giggled happily because they tickled, and Joseph looked at me in amazement. 'Never mind!' He said back to my mother, 'she doesn't need anything.'
"The next thing I knew, Joseph was talking excitedly to my mother about me being some sort of prodigy, he said 'Most Mythral smiths can't even stick their hands in Mythral fire like that and take them out unharmed until they have at least five years of experience, and your daughter has never even been to a Mythral forge before, and she did it right off the bat. Its amazing! Are you sure no on in your family has ever been a mythral smith?' My mother politely responded no and then grabbed the other hand that hadn't gone into the fire and politely suggested that after all that excitement we should leave, and was starting to walk out the door despite my whining. 'Amy,' she pleaded as she pulled me away, 'the nice man has to get back to work, and he doesn't need a little kid bothering him.' 'My, my, no family heritage and so young too! Bet this'd be a smack in the face to old Randy who used to insist that males with family history make the best mythral smiths,' Joseph was rambling to himself excitedly until he noticed that my mom was pulling me out the door. 'Wait! Wait!' Joseph began and moved towards my mother, 'where are you going? You're daughter is a prodigy, she must become my apprentice!' My mother stopped and sighed, 'My daughter is much to young to be playing around in a dangerous place like this," my mother retorted as she tightened her grip on my hand so I wouldn't run away. 'It wouldn't be playing,' Joseph responded, 'she'd be learning a trade, and a good one at that!'
"My mother ignored him and we went home, but later that day when my father returned from work I told him all about how I ran into the forge and stuff, and how Joseph had told me I was really amazing. My father in turn, asked my mother about what happened, and she explained, while adding points here and there in the story about her opinion on me being taught to be a Mythral smith. My father disagreed with her though. He said, 'Honey, were you crazy? Do you know what kind of an honor it would be for our daughter to be a Mythral smith? Aside from showing talent, she clearly wants to do it! Why else would she have been so attracted to those lights!' My mother sighed and turned her back to my father, 'And having a five year old running around a forge isn't dangerous?' My father breathed in deeply and smiled at me, and then looked at my mother, 'I'll go with her everyday after work, at least until she gets older. And if it is really dangerous or I think something is wrong then I will bring her home.' My mother snorted and looked back at him, 'Fine.'
"The lessons began the next day, and I didn't begin forging for two years, but I did learn the basics and how to concentrate your mind and how to discipline yourself to completely concentrate and put all your energy into one task which is what one needs to do in order to be a good Mythral smith. I also had to do many different arm strengthening exercises. My father came to the first few ones, but he eventually began to trust Joseph, and so did my mother. When I was seven I was able to forge some things and I forged simple and small things at first, and they came out pretty well, but I only got better with practice. I made mistakes but not nearly as many as much as other beginning smiths tend to make. Joseph seemed to grow more and more amazed with my ability, and every time someone was skeptical he invited them to watch me forge something. I came to be a sort of legend in my home town and everyone knew who I was."
"Wow," Mighty said after the hedgehog had stopped speaking. Amy grabbed more of the warm fruit juice and drank some more. She then nodded and looked away. "That's amazing, we had some blacksmiths back in my hometown, but I never heard of mythral smith before. And I have traveled quite a lot. I wonder why? And have you forged anything recently? And why did you want to get rid of the hammer?" Amy stared at the hammer in her hands and asked herself the same question that Mighty had just said to her. Why did she want to get rid of her hammer in the first place? Why did she want to eradicate her past? There is no way to completely do that, and yet she has been trying. But what is someone without a past? They are an infant, a naïve child. Yet Amy was an adult now, and she could not start over from day one, furthermore, would completely starting over be a good thing? Her memories flowed through her mind like a movie, or a play, and they warmed, upset, bored, and excited her, and she imagined for one second, fearfully, what it would be like to loose them, even the unpleasant ones. The thought of unpleasant memories cause her mind to jump ahead to the event she had been trying to forget more than any of the others, and the thought of reliving it again sent her reeling. She nearly fainted again, and Mighty, who sensed her weakness caught her back to relax and comfort her. She shook her head and he removed his hand.
"I remember the last day I was ever at my village, I was almost twelve," Amy began. She had hidden from this story for way too long, and now was the time to tell it, despite the fact that part of her was still protesting. "Everyone was in ruins," she stopped and remembered the first thing she had seen was her house a blaze, and if front of it were he parent's dead bodies with open, staring and accusing eyes and disappointed expressions, as if they were disappointed with her. She had run from them to try and forget the scene, as if it had never happened, but everywhere she looked, she found houses on fire, and people dead or dying, and she just couldn't stand it so she ran further and further away, as she tried to run faster than the smell of burnt flesh that had permeated into her nose. "Everyone was dead," was all she told Mighty, she couldn't stand to describe details without bursting into tears. "The last place I visited was Joseph's house, and he was dead to, but he had a package for me. It was to be my birthday present two days later, and even though everything else had burned, the package hadn't. I picked it up and opened it, and I found the hammer inside. For a moment I was delighted that Joseph had finally decided I was good enough for to get my own hammer and begin forging things on my own, but then I looked and remembered that everything was burning, so I ran, and didn't stop until I got to Chronopolis. And there was Sonic, but before I could do anything, a robot came flying out of the air and captured me. It was metal sonic, and he brought me to Robotnik."
Her voice trailed off, and Mighty looked at her quizzically.
"Where were you when the city was destroyed?" Amy winced and then responded,
"Sonic had visited our town the day before, in search of eggman because he heard he had come to our town for the gifted Mythral smith. I thought he was talking about Joseph, so when Sonic went adventuring, I followed him because I wanted to save Joseph from Robotnik, and while I followed him, I started to first have my crush on Sonic. When we got back from the forest, I returned to my village to find it the way I described.Robotnik had destroyed it when they wouldn't tell him where I was. He was looking for me, not Joseph, and if I had been there," she bit her lip so hard that it started to bleed to keep from crying, but she could hold out no longer, and tears that had been waiting eight years to be she poured out of her. Mighty gently wrapped his arm around her in an attempt to comfort her, while she cried. She cried for hours and Mighty thought pensively, as he found that a hate for Robotnik was growing inside of him. He had never liked the man, but burning Amy's village like that had gone much too far? The only thing that made no sense to him was why Amy had never tried to find revenge and never seemed to be affected more than anyone else in Robotnik's presence. Had Amy blamed herself because she had not been there when it happened? Did she think it was her fault that the village had burned? Most people would have developed a resentment against Sonic leading them in the wrong direction or would have hated Robotnik for killing everyone. But Amy had done the opposite; she had put all the blame on herself. Had she slowly been killing herself all this time, and it did not reach its climax until she threw away her hammer and in doing so tried to get rid of every connection she had to her past, and things she did for herself and not just because it was for Sonic or to get Sonic? When she was done she wiped her eyes, and was quite surprised that she had told Mighty all that. She had never even told Sonic or even Rouge, but talking to Mighty just seemed so comfortable. It as almost as if she had known Mighty for far longer than she really had. She remembered Sonic again, and thinking of him reminded her of the speed contest.
"I'm still going to enter that race," she said in a strained voice, and Mighty nodded nervously. She cought on to his nervousness, and said "No but I won't train like before, I don't want to be a machine." She remembered back to her training as a mythral smith in which she was told draw on the power of her emotions in order to forge something, but when she had trained before, she in a sense tried to eradicate her past, herself, and in essence she had attempted to completely dehumanize [a/n:dehedghogize? Whatever I hope you get the point anyway].
"Good," Mighty said with a smile. "I will hold your hammer for you while you run?" he asked gently, trying not to insult her. She gave him a weak smile, "yeah, that sounds like a good plan."
Okay that's it for today, I hope this one doesn't have too many typos and grammar edits, but sorry if it does. The story's far from over though! And I'm sorry if it doesn't get updated as often as some of you might like but I have lots of school work so I hope this long chapter will be good. Anyway, tell me what you think of it. NEXT TIME ON AMY's ADMIRER: Amy enters the National Speed Contest. Will she win? Will she beat Sonic? Will she gain his respect? And what will Mighty think?