The dark, iron grey, nigh black storm clouds rolled in, releasing an occasional flash of white lightning, lighting up the already dark skies.
And in a lush, green forest not too far away from where the small village was. Someone was angrily mumbling to himself, it was within a small, quiet clearing only a few metres within the treeline.
It was overgrown, small leaves of various trees and colours littering the floor, while large boulders stuck out of the ground like imposing monoliths of stone.
But something was there that shouldn't have been, in the centre of the clearing, was a large streak of churned up mud, forming a deep 3 metre deep trench in the soft, wet earth.
And at the end of the narrow trench, embedded in the ground, was the smoking wreck of a large circular vehicle, almost egg shaped in fact and was coloured a bright, steel coloured grey, small cracked lights shining outwards.
But unfortunately it wasn't going anywhere, not in the state it was in anyway and it's owner knew this.
He was stood only a few metres away, sitting down on a rock, mumbling and cursing with silent rage which boiled within him like a volcano.
He was tall for a human, with a rather fair and pale complexion, with fiery brown hair. And in terms of his age he was around his mid 30s. However the shape of his body was…bizarre, he was rather rotund for a man of his age, yet he stood tall and had rather long almost spindly legs. And on his face was a large, comical looking moustache the same colour as his hair.
The man was donned in a vermillion red jacket and black trousers and boots, and thick, blue tinted goggles shielded his eyes and from some of the more…extreme language leaving his mouth he was visibly furious.
"It was him again! That…that…Ok Ivo breathe…you'll get that insolent whelp next time. It was just a small miscalculation…yeah…that was it…a miscalculation nothing more…" he muttered under his breath.
"Are you sure doctor? Because it seems that we have been utterly humiliated and bested by Sonic again. Much like we always are." Another voice said.
The man turned to see a small little robot with a round head that was a deep red colour at the top, with a black body, but the robots joints and hands were a similarly shaded red as his head.
"Silence Orbot! I know what I'm doing, if you don't stop running your mouth like that. I'll remove your voice box, GOT IT!" he bellowed with fury, the small machine then shrunk back with fear.
Orbot then pressed the side of his cold, steel head and his luminous blue eyes lit up, changing to a neon, emerald green shade.
The robots head then slowly began to rotate in a 360 degree arc, the servos in the robot's neck whirring slightly. And after around 10 seconds the spinning motion stopped and Orbot clutched his head to steady it.
"Well Doctor I have just conducted a scan of the local area and I believe we are situated near a small village. It's half a kilometre away and seems relatively primitive. Would you like me and Cubot to infiltrate and scout it out?"
The man didn't even turn to face his creation as he stood up and analysed his vehicle, taking note of the excessive damage on it's hull and engine.
"Yeah, sure…"he grumbled, before proceeding to search through his coat pockets and pulling out a rather large, silvery grey wrench before approaching the damaged vehicle and opening up a hatch, smoke immediately billowing out.
Orbot then gave himself a small face palm of silent frustration while the doctor's back was turned before turning to face Cubot.
Cubot was in a lot of ways a lot like Orbot, same type of cpu, same steel endo-skeleton, the only differences came in the fact that Cubot's head instead of being the rotund shape that Orbot had, his took the form of a cube and his colours came in a mustard yellow instead.
"Come on, we may as well find something to do instead of helping him with this train wreck." Orbot said, before he and Cubot quickly began to move towards the treeline, where the bright light of the village's torches was clearly visible.
(Meanwhile.)
"Maybe that'll teach you something valuable you worthless freak!"
The little fox whimpered in fear, wrapping his two tails around himself while trying his best not to start wailing, blood dribbling from his lip and nose, it felt like his entire body was burning in agonising pain and that there was no stopping it.
He slowly tried his best to get up, but his little legs were too weak and hurt to hold him up for more than a few seconds and the toddler collapsed, crying out as he felt ungodly amounts of pain in his shoulder which already felt like it had fractured.
But he couldn't just lie out here in the open and let THEM come back, so slowly, agonisingly slowly he began to slowly crawl away, trying his best not to rupture any blood vessels in his surely broken bones.
It took a while but thankfully he was able to find the same, cold, damp, smelling area of the alleyway, thankfully tucked away from the view of everyone else in the village.
The little boy slowly crawled into the centre of the dark alley, the dark, ominous shadows of the buildings stretching over his tiny, battered body, before he slowly curled up into a tiny little ball and began to cry once again, his voice hoarse from screaming and crying.
But in-between his heartbroken little sobs, he started coughing and spluttering, specks of blood mixed with phlegm splattering onto the cold concrete of the floor, the toddler's tiny little heart which had been broken oh so many times was beating furiously and the boy's breathing was uneven and nigh-hysteric.
Even trying to take as little as a slightly deep breath hurt his burning chest an intolerable amount, but he needed to calm down…he had to!
The little boy slowly, agonisingly slowly began to breath slower and slower, the pain was intense, but as he repeated the cycle, it slowly began to recede and his little heartbeat relaxed a bit.
The little fox then felt a cold droplet hit his already, dingy coloured, mud and blood caked fur and he looked up to see that the dark storm clouds had begun to pass over him and it had started to rain.
Then another water droplet hit him, then another and another…the little boy then whimpered sadly, his little stomach rumbling. He'd have to go tonight without eating anything, for the 5th day in a row, he slowly got to his feet, clutching his broken shoulder and trying his best to lift the lid of the large skip bin.
His thin little arms were able to lift it just enough to him to squeeze inside of it his little legs kicking to get in, when he finally managed to squeeze his entire tiny, malnourished body into the bin, he lifted a small metal pipe in the bin to hold the lid open just a little bit so he could get some light while he searched the large piles of rubbish where he slept when he could.
He then found IT, the little fox held it gently in his injured hand and sighed with pure depression. It was a little music box, clearly beaten and rather old and battered, but still working. The tiny fox then opened it, the crackly yet soothing melody playing quietly while the small fox lay down, covering himself with a bunch of old, torn up and ragged newspapers.
A single tear slipping down the youngsters cheek before he slowly and uneasily drifted off to sleep, dreading what would come in the morning.
