There always seemed to be a significant weight placed on friendship, he thought. Was following through with his plan breaking that trust, or was it breaking the chain that held him down? At what point is it acceptable to say goodbye?

Any Autumn day was a blessing, as it brought winds that shook the wind chimes hanging from the oak boards creaking above the porch. The wind from the sea usually didn't get there. That was a shame since the tinkling of chimes was the fox's favorite sound. Miles was sitting on the rocking chair at the back of his house, overlooking his lawn containing various cornhole bags, horseshoes, and the sheer cliff that led to the sea his house balanced upon. It had been five years since he first moved in, and five years since he moved out of Sonic's house.

"Oh, how the unmatched march of time eludes him but not me," he muttered quietly to himself. "The naivety in our relationship has been ever-present, but has shifted from me unto him."

The day was November twelfth. Miles had today marked on his calendar for months. The calendar had been sitting in the same spot overlooking his kitchen table since he first moved in, but the only thing it overlooked now was dust bunnies, a couple of trash bags Miles had yet to take out, and the miasma of silence that permeated through his abode.

Everything in Miles' house was packed away neatly in various boxes and bags. Every tool, every rogue throwaway pillow had its very own place amongst the towers of cardboard that now lay in his otherwise empty living room.

Miles slowly stood. He felt the wind on his fur as it swept past him and around his home. "There's no better time than now," he thought.

He had all of his belongings stuffed into the Tornado just before sundown. He had somewhere important to be, and something important to do. As he entered the cockpit, he looked around to see a once chaotic-looking workshop now seemingly abandoned. He hoped the scene would not apply to the feelings of his friends after he would say goodbye.

With a slow drift and flourish, Miles had left his home for the last time. The rays of sunlight that kissed the Tornado from the Twilight matched his fur in color and warmness in determination. "It's always curious to see," Miles thought, "that the end of a day looks so similar to the start of a new one. They might be separated by hours of dark, but what I see now will be what I will eventually see soon."

It was dark by the time landed at the campsite. Sonic, Amy, and Knuckles were already there when he landed. A fire sat at the base of a shallow hill that was surrounded by a sea of trees that fluttered in the light of the full moon.

"Hey, Tails! You need help getting your stuff out of the Tornado?" Sonic yelled over the roaring engine of the now drowsy biplane after it had made its swift landing. "I got it Sonic, thanks though!" He yelled in response. Although he would appreciate some help, Miles didn't want Sonic, or anyone else for that matter, to see how much he had packed for a two-day camping trip until he had time to build up the courage to tell them why he had done so.

Everyone's tent had already been set up. Amy's was a pink tent, covered in fluffy material to battle the chill that often swept in under the cloth at night. Knuckles' was a haphazard pile of sticks and leaves barely large enough to fit Miles, let alone Knuckles. Miles could tell he had built it himself. Sonic didn't have a tent. He preferred to lay under the stars. Miles' tent was set up with the click of a button, as a loud clank revealed a metal triangular prism that sprung from within the luggage Miles had taken off the Tornado. Inside was a singular hammock, and a small Spruce night table.

"Come over here by the fire!" Knuckles shouted over to Miles after he noticed he had finished setting up his tent. "It's warm and we've got marshmallows to cook!" Miles quickly flew over to the campfire, picked up a stick from the pile that was lying close to the flame, attached a marshmallow to the tip, and sat as he held it close to the flame.

The night came and went faster than Miles wanted it to. "Have a good night's sleep buddy!" Sonic concluded as he walked over to a small patch on the ground farthest away from the trees to afford him the best view of the sky. "Thanks, I'll see you in the morning," Miles replied. Although his words were sincere, he still felt the deep cut of regret one feels after telling a loved one a lie. Miles entered his sturdy hut of metal, crawled onto the hammock hanging at the center, and stared at the ceiling.

"Why do I feel regret even though there is nothing I have done that isn't worth looking back on fondly?" Miles wondered. "Every moment I've spent here with Sonic, and everybody else, has been so enjoyable to me. Why is it that I regret not doing more? It can't be because I don't want to leave. It must be the natural response everyone gives to a quiet finale. Everyone expects an ending to have firework and fanfare, and when it doesn't it feels hallow, even though there is so much value that can be found in that silence.

Miles sighed deeply. He needed to get some sleep. He hadn't gotten enough the previous night, as he was kept awake with the same feelings and thought that plagued him now. As Miles rolled over in his hammock, making it sway slightly, he remembered something he had read when he was much younger on the back of a dime novel he saw at a convenience store he once frequented. He fell asleep murmuring the words back to himself.

"The future ain't what it used to be."