So many questions and wonders and hopes of joy rifled through his mind; Knuckles did not know what to think, or what to concentrate on! With an effort he stopped, shut up his racing mind, and looked over this beautiful impossibility, focusing his hunter's eye to take in all detail.
He began with her eyes – emerald – two radiating orbs of evergreen. Then her fur – it was soft rose, and her quills were bundled back in a loose cord that fell down her shoulders. He noticed her eyes again, and the long lashes. Those eyes so brilliantly green, they were like gemstones. He tried to focus again on her fur – on her pale muzzle and soft pink and quills so finely arranged they were blades of grass to his knotted dreadlocks.
He suddenly hunched inward with an awkward shame on account of his filthy, wild appearance, but her eyes seemed to catch him again. He swallowed and moved his gaze away, trying to be as critical as possible.
They stood about equal height. Her eyes were … She was clothed in a green dress of thin, whispering fabric. Green, like her ey… It looped over her shoulders and trailed down her legs. There was a misty, cloud-like quality to her gown. Over her forehead rested a beautiful circlet of coloured beads. Around her neck hung an emerald pendant. She walked barefoot.
Her emerald eyes again. He could not keep from looking upon them, and her own wide-eyed gaze fixed back on him. She looked at him – not scrutinizing – but with innocent eyes and a mouth bent in a slight smile. It remained without definition, unable to be pinned down and analyzed, but something magnetic existed about those crystals of life and that gentle countenance.
Knuckles was breathing heavily; his body was confused – geared up for a fight, his energy suddenly had nowhere to expel through anger. Adrenaline flew through his stomach, seeking some way out, and the awkward strength ran higher and higher until it forced a pleasant smile over his face. And with every trembling breath, his smile grew and grew until he laughed with joy! Her own smile burst into a smirk and they laughed as one!
His laughter dimmed and his eager mind jumped at the chance to speak. "My name is Knuckles," he told her. His questions spilled out. "What is your name? Where are you from? How did you get here; are there others?" The girl smiled all the way through his interrogation.
"I'm sorry," Knuckles apologized, then immediately continued rambling. "I just – I thought I was the last – I've never seen … well, one of us. Please, you have to tell me everything. Anything! What is your name?"
Her smile weathered all his pestering questions. The radiant look peaked, and she took a deep breath to tell her tale. His eyes inched near. She began to form the words … Then she froze with her mouth left open. The slightest sliver of doubt came into her eyes, but she began again, positioning her mouth and pushing out the words. "Huhh…" Her tongue stopped. Her throat caught. Her eyes wavered, and she pushed her head forward, trying to get the sound out.
"Huhh. … Huhh." Nothing came.
Knuckles dropped into shock. "You can't speak …" The pink echidna blushed a little, but that remained her only response.
The Guardian felt his heart sinking; the energy once struggling to find freedom poured out in excess until his joy was deflated. Mute. He looked at her again; eyes magnetized to him and face smiling dumbly. Was she smiling at the joy of kinship and a companion, or was she only giggling over some raggedy Echidna who had chattered like a foolish hedgehog for her amusement?
His deepest desires and hopes spilled to the ground and drained into the soil, never to be reclaimed. He would never even know her name…
Knuckles let his mind step back, and he saw her clearly. Childish eyes, foolish smile; silly pink spines – her appearance remained flawless as a perfect gemstone – but she seemed so … young … so unaware…
And she was thin! Her arms – nothing but rod-thin twigs he could snap in half! Her clawless female hands were large, but even then, her two-fingered paw would barely cover his enormous palm. Knuckles could crush her smooth hand in his mighty fist and grind it to dust! What they shared in height, she seemed to have traded in fitness and size: A quality of crystalline delicacy hovered around this mute girl like a sickness. A breeze might shatter her.
And here she stood – folding her hands and watching him pleasantly – blissfully unaware that they remained in a home of wild beasts. Ivo had once said something regarding a situation like this – what was it? "Like letting a cow into a fine China shop."
Knuckles had never seen a cow, nor did he know what China happened to be, so the doctor had summed things up nicely: "You're just asking for trouble."
He would have to move her to a safer location. First, he needed to be sure of her capabilities. "I am Knuckles," he said slowly, gesturing to himself. "You," he pointed at her nameless body. "Knuckles," back at himself. "Friend." She began mimicking his gestures and smiling proudly as she followed.
Good, so she could hear, and understand his language. He repeated the exercise so she would know to listen when he called for you. "You. Come. Follow." He took some exemplary steps backwards and signaled that she should do the same. She copied his lead.
"Follow." Knuckles instructed again, and turned towards the rocky road and the Marble Garden. Her dress swished and she was on his heels.
Knuckles began to think ahead and he poured over what clues he had. Her clothing did not match the garments he had seen during his mission in Station Square; it rather reminded him of his visitations to the past. Had some force brought her to the future of Angel Island, just as Tikal had transported him to its past? Perhaps a visitation to the cities would force some recollection.
Then he needed to develop a means of dependent communication. And then he had to know her abilities. Was speed her strength; did she rely on agility? Perhaps this echidna knew some unknown art of battle. The Controller hung forever on his mind, and he needed to know how she could best help to its defense.
A whimper came from behind; Knuckles looked back to see her progress. A distance of some yards separated his firm pace from … from whatever kind of walk she was attempting. A ravine of sloping tree roots and uneven rocks was to Knuckles a traversable path, but this girl seemed to think otherwise. With a squirming look on her face and a desperate grip around a tree trunk, she reached out a bare toe, cautiously stretching for a flat rock that would compose her next stepping-stone. Her hold on the tree bark slipped and she squeaked as her foot scraped across the rough roots. She looked to him pleadingly, as if about to fall from the edge of the island.
Knuckles scowled and jogged back. He grabbed her by the hips and set her safely on the stone she had been reaching for. She gazed at him adoringly. Knuckles frowned at her bare feet. There, he had all the proof that she was not meant to be in this untamed place, in this distant time.
"Move faster," he told her. "You'll feel less. Come." He took a few steps and waited for her to follow. She looked about her surroundings uncertainly, and tried a long stride for another rock. Knuckles saw that her first step stretched too far and he doubled back, so when she did teeter and slip, he was on hand to catch her.
He sighed. This wasn't working. "Stop, I'll take you." He cupped his paws around her back and under her knees and tipped her into his arms. She did not resist – she almost melted naturally into his grip. Her eyes smiled at him and her head snuggled into the crook of his neck. Knuckles scowled and wondered if the foolish girl had been working towards this last resort. She sighed pleasantly and wrapped her arms around his neck. Knuckles wanted to drop her – he had never held someone this closely outside of a brawl, and the stillness of her body felt strange and unsettling.
But she was no great weight. Her body was light, and he thought he moved quicker with this girl in his arms.
Knuckles still heard the ring of an unknown presence, and he hoped The Controller's energies would soon accept this stranger and rid his senses of danger. He would have preferred Ivo or the Hedgehog – someone he could fight and throw away – to this. This helpless stranger could not leave.
Across the Icecap Mountain, a figure dropped to a solitary ledge of grass. Thrusting out before this hillside clearing there hung a long crag, like an arm clenched into a fist and carpeted with a field of grass – an islet to the mainland of Angel Island. Across the connecting bridge, the emerald alter stood unused.
The figure swore. Oh well, that echidna couldn't be accused of total stupidity; he had obviously picked a new hiding place. Unfortunately, that opened up the search to every last lake, mountain slope, cavern and ancient ruin on the floating hunk of rock.
Well then, with so many doors to choose, it seemed most reasonable to go straight to the gatekeeper. He would check his hiding place sometime.