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Why had he agreed to this? Right, the blackmail. It was the fact that Rouge had blackmail on him and would make good on her threats if he didn’t follow the suggestions of the therapist that GUN had assigned him. That was the only reason he was standing in some random apartment building, knocking on some random old man’s door. At eight in the morning. On a Thursday.
The human who opened the door was easily double Shadow’s height, and squinted down at Shadow like his eyes barely functioned. “You the kid she sent over today?”
Shadow nodded, gritting his teeth, already feeling a growing headache over this waste of time.
“Didn’t tell me the ‘kid’ would be one of those little critters…” the man mumbled under his breath, before turning around and saying, louder, “You’re gonna help me clean the loft, kiddo, come in here while I get ready instead of standing in the doorway all sinister-like.”
Shadow’s ear flicked, annoyed at the insistence on referring to him in such a demeaning manner. He had probably been created before this man was even born. He tried to push past that, stepping into the cluttered apartment and slamming the door behind him, making the old man jump.
The man clanged around for a moment before turning to Shadow, hands full of all sorts of odds and ends. Shadow failed to see how any of this had to do with why he was here. The old man asked, “You got a name, kid?”
Shadow huffed. Of course he had a name, did this man really think– “It’s Shadow.”
“Not even gonna ask mine, huh? You’re a rude one.”
“I–“
The old man didn’t give him a chance to finish defending himself, cutting him off with, “Sol. Remember it. Or don’t, I’m not touchy on stuff like that.”
He may have underestimated this human. “I’m–“
“Don’t apologize, kid, you’re just bad with people. I won’t hold it against ya.”
Shadow couldn’t hold back his growl. This man wouldn’t even let him get a word in edgewise! It was insulting.
“C’mon, kid, we’re heading to the roof.” Sol brushed past him, somehow opening the door even with his hands full of… Shadow wasn’t quite sure what any of that was, still.
“Why.” Shadow stayed firmly planted where he was. Nobody had told him anything about this, except that it was meant to be ‘therapeutic’ and ‘perhaps be a way for you to relax, Shadow,’ and now a strange man was trying to get him on his roof.
“Loft’s on the roof.”
“What the fuck is that?” Shadow spat, ears pinning back as an unexpectedly intense rush of anger went through him.
Sol just sighed, walking back into the apartment to drop what he was holding on the kitchen table. He motioned to a chair, and Shadow reluctantly sat down while the old man bustled around the kitchen. The man grumbled under his breath, “Gonna need more coffee to deal with this.”
Shadow’s ears perked up at the mention of coffee, and he quietly asked, “Do you have coffee beans?”
The old man gave him an odd look. “It’s instant. You want any?”
Shadow drooped a little, but nodded. He really did prefer the beans, but coffee in liquid form would be bearable. He watched the old man for a moment before his eyes flicked around the small apartment, taking it in for the first time. There was a shelf with all sorts of bird statues opposite the kitchen, a small table with a few plants underneath it. The living room was cluttered, a recliner and couch shoved up right against each other to fit a couple hutches with various tchotchkes. It was homey in a way that Shadow wasn’t terribly used to, the clutter of one person having lived here for decades.
Sol sat down across from him, sliding a mug towards him. “So,” Sol began, “did they not tell you why you’re here?”
“They told me why, it’s some nonsense about being a way for me to relax. They didn’t tell me what.” Shadow did not mention that if they had told him, he would have been even less likely to show up. Curse Rouge’s affinity for blackmail.
“Alright, I can see why you’re a little…” Sol paused for a long moment, clearly searching for a word, “frustrated. It’s probably a bit offputting when a strange old man tries to take you somewhere without telling you anything. I’m used to them at least letting the kids know what they’re here for.”
Shadow sipped on his coffee, immediately regretting it. He already didn’t prefer liquid coffee, and this coffee just tasted like dirt, none of the depth in the bitterness or the light sweetness that he had grown accustomed to. His whole muzzle scrunched up, but the old man didn’t seem to notice, that or he just didn’t care. And, right, he was still talking, wasn’t he.
“–so they send kids up here to hang out with the birds a bit, give me a hand keeping everything clean, and kids who really need to just sit and breathe get a break. You can sit with the pigeons as long as you want, if it helps you out.”
“Pigeons?” He had seen some things about pigeons, before the raid, but had never thought on them much. Gerald had mentioned them a few times, something about them being used in studies that he had used as references for some of his research. Maria had found them cute, though she was never allowed near them because of fears that they might get her sick.
Sol threw him a crooked smile, the first he had seen from the old man. “Pigeons! I’ve got all sorts, but I keep a loft of the friendliest for the therapy kids.” He gave Shadow a serious look. “You keep those quills of yours relaxed, alright? Don’t need my birds’ feet getting cut up.”
“Alright.”
“You feel better now?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go up, then. Oh, and if you want to handle the squabs I’ll make you take off those gloves of yours and wash your hands. They’re delicate.”
“Squab?” Shadow cocked his head.
“Baby pigeon.”
“Ah. I don’t think I should remove my gloves around something so delicate.” Shadow took one off to show the man his long, wickedly sharp claws, receiving a whistle in response, then replaced it.
“Probably a bad idea. Well, you can watch while I band, at least.”
Another bit of jargon. Shadow sighed. “Let’s get this over with, then.”
Sol cackled, picking up his pile of things from the table before responding, “Don’t sound too excited, kid!” He made his way to the door again, once again doing some sort of wizardry to open the (round!) handle with his hands full. Shadow followed him, still annoyed but somewhat mollified by the old man taking the time to explain what was happening, even if he had missed half the explanation while lamenting awful coffee.
They got into the rickety old elevator, getting out on the top floor before climbing a flight of stairs to the roof. Sol was wheezing a little bit as he pushed the door open with his hip, and Shadow followed close behind.
Shadow took in the sight before him, not quite expecting… this. He had been prepared to see a small shack with birds pouring out the sides, but instead he was greeted by a massive L-shaped structure encompassing nearly half of the roof. It was clearly somewhat cobbled together, sections had mismatched paint and the wired sections that composed most of the structure used all different gauges, but it was built well. There had to be hundreds of birds, and all of them followed Sol as he beelined for the inside corner of the structure, where there was a door secured by a large padlock.
Sol unceremoniously dropped the things in his hands into a box near the door before opening the lock and swinging the door open. “Here we are, kid! Come in and help me get these birds fed, since you’re the reason we’re late.”
He stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dim light. A few cleaning supplies rested in one corner, while a large metal bin took up most of the floor space. The walls were covered in all sorts of clipboards, hanging from crooked nails. There were slatted doors to either side, and birds stared through them expectantly, jostling each other in their attempts to get as close to the door as possible. “Why are they rushing the door like they’re starving?”
Sol laughed, leaning down to let the pigeons peck him through one of the doors. “They know our schedule. See their feeder over there?” Sol pointed, and Shadow squinted at the metal trough through the door. “It’s still got a little food left over, especially since it’s the tail end of summer and they don’t eat as much. Pigeons are dramatic, they’ll mob the feeder like they’re starving no matter how much they’ve got left over from yesterday. ‘Course I try not to have leftovers, because of the mice, but it’s inevitable in the summer. I’ve gotta give them some extra if they’ve got squabs, too, and I’d rather be over than under.”
Shadow was out of his depth. He was pretty sure that half of those words hadn’t registered in his brain, but he supposed the important part was that the birds weren’t being starved if their owner woke up a little late. “I see.”
“Now, some reminders,” Sol said, straightening up, “watch your step, these guys will get underfoot when you go in and I don’t need you killing my birds. If you feel anything under your foot that isn’t the hard floor, roll your damn ankle and don’t step down fully until you’re sure you don’t have a bird under there. Birds are gonna land on your head, it’s gonna be loud and they’ve got sharp claws. Don’t freak out, they won’t hurt you and most of them will leave after a second. If you don’t want them to hang out on you, just put your hand up like this,” he placed his hand palm-down on his scalp, “and brush it backwards, they’ll either hop on your hand or fly off. I usually give sensitive kids hats, but you’re… y’know. So I don’t have any that’ll fit you.”
“It’s… I think I will be okay with it.” He had dealt with much worse, after all.
“You’re sure?” Sol stared at him for a long moment, and Shadow gave him a nod. “Great. Let’s get these drama queens their food, then you can watch me band, then we’ll get to cleaning. Oh, one last thing. The loft is in sections, so try not to let any birds through when you pass through to another section. Not the end of the world, but you’ll save me some time and energy if you hurry through the doors.”
With that, Sol grabbed a large tin and scooped up seeds from the bin, motioning for Shadow to do the same. Shadow scooped up just enough food that the tin wouldn’t spill, and then followed the man through the first door. Some pigeons spilled through as Sol slid it open, and Shadow was careful not to get any of them underfoot, almost shuffling, until Sol dumped food in the trough and the pigeons moved away from him. Shadow let out a breath. For something that was designed to force him to relax, this was the most stressed he had been in months. Including the multiple attacks from Robotnik.
Sol looked back at him, letting out a snort, and motioned for him to follow. “C’mon, kid, don’t stand there like a deer in the headlights. You’re fine.”
Shadow forced his ears to relax from where they had, at some point, pinned back against his head, and followed. Walking through the loft became much less stressful when there weren’t dozens of pigeons begging him for food.
“Those’re my pet birds. Most of them are rescues, but some are just birds I produced and wanted to keep around. I’ve got another section where the really friendly pet birds are. Next section is my pouters, I don’t breed those so there’s a mix.” Sol paused. “They look a little weird, but don’t worry about them. They’re pretty much normal pigeons, if normal pigeons were always blowing.”
Blowing? What did that even mean? Shadow had basically just stared blankly through that whole ramble, but Sol continued on like he didn’t have multiple words in there that he needed to define. Shadow just silently trailed behind Sol, but when he saw the birds in the next section he had to blink a few times to make sure that his eyes weren’t tricking him. These pigeons had rounded necks, and while a few looked fairly normal, most of them had long, skinny bodies. It looked uncomfortable.
“They’re… healthy?” Shadow asked.
“Eh, mostly,” Sol responded while he stepped into the next section, pigeons landing on his head and shoulders, with a few adventurous birds landing on the hand that held the tin of seeds. “Couple of these guys are rescues,” he pointed, spooking the bird on his shoulder, “like the couple Pomeranian Pouters. Don’t like those, the long foot feathers bug them and I have to trim ‘em every molt.”
Shadow looked at the two massive birds he had pointed at, both with their legs and feet covered in feathers that had obviously been cut short at some point. “They’re very large.” He stepped through the door and closed it behind him, startling a bit when a bird loudly flapped over and landed on his head. It immediately started cooing, shuffling around between his ears.
“Not the biggest I’ve got, but they’re close. It’s a damn miracle that they and the tiny little Brunner Pouters get along as well as they do.” Sol dumped food into the trough, seemingly having memorized how much seed every section needed by sight alone. The pigeon on Shadow’s head flapped down to the floor, and the pigeons that had perched on Sol followed.
Shadow watched the birds, noting how they seemed to deflate in order to eat, and then turned to Sol. “How do you remember all of this?”
Sol laughed. “Had pigeons my whole life, kid. I’ve been breeding them since I got my own place 40-odd years ago. At some point you just get things to stick in the old noggin.”
Shadow hummed, then nodded at the door to the next section. “What’s in that section?”
“That’s Old German Owls, they’re in two sections since they’re my specialty, then we’ve got the Classic Old Frills, then we’ll turn around and refill before doing the other half of the loft. You’ll like the Owls. I’m working on selfs, just recently got a real nice self black that had to be hand raised. She’s not so good with the other birds ‘cause of that, really prefers people. She’s a sweetheart, she’ll probably land on you and beg for food. Fair warning.”
Shadow was lost again. He tried not to show his confusion, just following when Sol opened the door to the next section. These birds were… cute was the only word for it. They had big, dark eyes, with a little bunch of feathers on the backs of their heads. All of them were similarly colored, with just one patch of color over their wings, while the rest was white.
Two birds immediately landed on his head, fighting over the spot before one shoved the other off. Shadow flicked an ear at the scratch of their claws, but the annoyance bubbling in him died down when the pigeon on his head settled down, the soft feathers brushing against his fur.
“You’re lucky, they usually don’t warm up to strangers that fast.”
The warmth between Shadow's ears was soothing, and despite his lingering annoyance with the whole situation, he was starting to feel himself relax. He definitely would not be telling Rouge that she had been right, she would be insufferable about it.
Just like the previous sections, Sol dumped food and the pigeons rushed over like they’d been starved. The pigeon stayed firmly planted on Shadow’s head for a minute before it flew off. Shadow tried not to feel disappointed at the absence, and followed Sol to the next section.
“These are my project birds,” Sol explained after Shadow closed the door behind them, “so we’ve got some Komorners mixed in with them. Give me your food tin, kid, mine’s empty.”
Shadow handed the tin over, and Sol dumped food into the trough. A jet black pigeon came to land on Sol’s head as he straightened up, and he let her gently peck at his fingers. “Hey, sweetheart,” Sol crooned at the bird, “no goodies for you today, I’ve got a kid here. Maybe he’ll feel nice and get you some peas later.” He then scooped her off his head, motioning at Shadow to hold his hands out before gently placing her on him. Shadow just stared at the bird, unsure of what to do.
“What do I–“
“Pepper’s real sweet, she’ll try to eat your fingers for a little bit and then get bored and fall asleep on you. Or fly off, if she’s in a mood. Just stay still, she’s a bit timid about strangers.”
So Shadow continued to stare at the bird, and just as Sol had said, she tried to peck at his fingers for a moment before settling in a little puddle in his hands. He gently pushed her into one hand, bringing up a finger from the other to pet her cheeks. She somehow melted even more at that, the feathers on her head fluffing up. He looked up to see Sol smiling at him and resisted bristling.
“What?” He snapped.
“You’re just real gentle with them. Wasn’t expecting that, with all the door slamming, but I’m glad.” Sol picked up a seed from his tin, tapping the side of Pepper’s mouth with it, and she took it from him before settling back down. “You can stay here with her while I feed the Classics.”
Shadow kept gently scratching at the pigeon’s cheeks while Sol fed the pigeons in the next section, and felt a pang of disappointment when Sol gently picked up the pigeon and set her down on a perch.
“Back the way we came, kid. We’ll do the other half, then I’ll band the couple squabs I’ve got to do, then we’ll clean and you can hang out with your new friend again.”
Shadow huffed, but didn’t argue, and followed Sol back to the central room. There, they scooped up more food and did the same routine to the other side of the loft, with Sol showing off his Old Dutch Capuchines and Frillbacks before bringing Shadow to the last section, which Sol referred to as his ‘therapy bird’ section. It was twice as big as any other section, and Shadow immediately had three pigeons on his head the second they entered. Unlike before, two of the pigeons perched on his quills while the third stood between his ears, so they didn’t fight.
“That right there’s why I told you to keep those quills relaxed. These birds are bold, they’ll just perch all over you if you let ‘em.” Sol dumped the rest of the food he had into this trough, and he gently shooed the pigeons off of Shadow’s head before motioning to him. “C’mon, we should get going. Otherwise we’re gonna get cooked while we’re cleaning.”
In the central section, Sol grabbed a little contraption made of metal rods and latches. It held metal rings, all of them colored green. “These’re bands. We put them on the pigeons for identification, they go on when they’re tiny squabs and, ideally, they keep them for life. They can all get traced back to me, so if anyone gets lost, they can get the pigeon back to me.”
Shadow nodded, following Sol as the man checked the wooden boxes in every section before stopping at one, pulling out a… what on earth was that? It looked like a big wad of gum with little bits of yellow fluff stuck in it. Shadow saw a beak and eyes only after staring at it for a long moment, and realized that this must be the ‘squab’ that Sol had mentioned. So it was a baby pigeon. Ugly, in a cute sort of way.
“This one’s out of two of my favorite reds, gonna be a gorgeous little bird in a few weeks.” He held the little bird, extending its leg out and sliding the band on in a practiced motion. He tugged the metal ring lightly, seeming satisfied when it stayed put. “Perfect size for banding! Too big and you’ve gotta use oil to get the band on, too small and it slips right off.”
“It doesn’t hurt them?” The squab had looked very uncomfortable, wiggling around when Sol had extended its leg.
“Nope, just a bit scary for a big ape to come over and mess with you when you’re the size of a ping pong ball.”
Shadow hummed. He watched Sol repeat the same process with a few baby pigeons throughout the loft, and Pepper perched on his head while Sol banded the squabs in her section. When they returned to the center section, Sol pointed him toward a tool that had a flat metal end and a long wooden handle.
“Cleaning time. Only a few sections, so it should be quick. I’ll show you how the scraper works and where to dump the shit, then I’ll clean the waterers while you’re working.”
Shadow wrinkled his nose. In the back of his head, of course he had considered that ‘cleaning up’ after animals would be somewhat disgusting, but he hadn’t truly prepared for it. “I’m going to take my gloves off,” he warned, before remembering that Sol was a human and didn’t care at all.
“Just be careful with those claws of yours, alright?” At Shadow’s nod, Sol continued, “This part’s easy. You just scrape the floor with the scraper, then sweep it up with the broom and dustpan, dump it in the bucket.” Sol then opened the door, leading Shadow out to a bin in the corner of the rooftop. “Dump it here. I’ve got a guy who comes and picks it up every week, real convenient for me, and he gets free fertilizer out of the deal.” It was disgusting, but Shadow remembered the blackmail in a flash of clarity and just gritted his teeth.
They went back into the loft, Sol showing Shadow how to scrape the floor before showing him which sections he’d be cleaning. He then wandered off, presumably to clean whatever it was that he’d said he was cleaning. Shadow had tuned most of his ramblings out at this point. He started on cleaning the section with the Old German Owls, and before he could even get started, multiple pigeons had made themselves at home on his head and quills.
The work was demeaning, especially for a self-proclaimed ultimate lifeform, but Shadow tried to not think too hard about what, exactly, he was doing, focusing on the actual physical action of it. Scraping the floor was surprisingly meditative, the consistent noise of it and the repetitive action coupled with the warmth of the pigeons perching on his head were quieting his thoughts for once. He finished quickly, shooing the pigeons off of him before moving to the next section.
Pepper immediately flew to his head when he entered, and he felt a smile creep onto his face. She settled right between his ears as he scraped the section, staying glued to his head the entire time he was cleaning. He rumbled a quiet, “You have to get off of me, I need to finish cleaning,” before shooing her off of his head with the back of his hand. He then realized that at least three other pigeons had perched on his quills without him noticing, as they all flew off when he shooed Pepper.
He moved to the next section, the one that Sol had fed alone, and found that these pigeons were also extremely friendly, a few of them flying to his head before he had even set down his bucket. They had interesting patterns, with spots on their feathers. They had feathers on their feet, much shorter than those of the pouters Sol had shown him, and it almost looked like they were wearing pants. Shadow took a moment to just stare at the birds before continuing his work. When he was finally done, he shooed the birds from his head before making the trek out to the bin that Sol had showed him.
Shadow found the old man kneeling by some strange contraption in one of the aviaries, tinkering with it. Sol didn’t even seem to notice his approach, too focused on what he was doing.
Shadow cleared his throat to get his attention, announcing, “I’m done.”
“You work quick, huh?”
Shadow couldn’t hold back a snort at that one. “Of course.”
Sol just blinked at him. Right, the old man didn’t even seem to have a television in that tiny apartment. He likely didn’t know who Shadow was.
“Let me finish up here, then I’ll check your work. You seem like a perfectionist, so I’m sure you did a good job, but I’ve gotta make sure.”
Rude. Shadow glared at him, waiting impatiently for the old man to finish whatever he was doing.
Sol looked up after no more than a minute, saying, “Kid, would you go sit with the birds for ten minutes or something? Your staring is not helping me focus.”
Shadow huffed, but flipped around and went back into the loft, making his way to the section with Pepper. She perched on his head just as quickly as last time, and Shadow moved to sit down, leaned up against a wall. He checked the communicator on his wrist for the first time since he had arrived. There were a few threatening messages from Rouge, but it seemed like nothing had exploded in the couple of hours that he’d been here. Good.
He settled his hands in his lap, wishing that he had kept his gloves on. But his hands were disgusting, now, and he wasn’t going to put them back on without scrubbing extremely well under his claws first. He just watched the pigeons going about their day. They were surprisingly violent, often bullying one another off of perches or nests. At one point, some pigeons sat on his outstretched legs, fluffing themselves up happily.
Sol came by a few minutes after Shadow had accumulated seven pigeons, standing over Shadow while asking, “You getting it over with, kid?”
Shadow grumbled, moving to get up until Sol motioned at him to stop.
“Y’know what, kid? You can stay in here while I finish up, if you want. I’ll be about twenty more minutes.”
“I would… enjoy that. I think.” Shadow resisted a flinch at how stilted his words were. This day had already fried his brain, and it wasn’t even noon.
Sol just laughed. “Alright, kid, I’ll grab you when I’m done and you can get going. Try not to fall asleep!” He then left the way he came, and Shadow suddenly realized that he hadn’t even checked the last section that he’d asked Shadow to clean. His trust had been extended to Shadow so easily, and it was making Shadow’s heart clench with something he couldn’t name.
He had people who trusted him, of course. Rouge, for one, along with Omega. Sonic seemed to trust him, for some reason. But it had taken time to gain their trust, particularly to win their trust back after his memory loss. This old man had just looked at how Shadow behaved around animals and decided to trust him? Perhaps it was just because the man didn’t know his past, but it still left Shadow feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t deserve that. He was a weapon, a genetic abomination cobbled together to maximize its capacity for violence, and the sharp claws that pricked his thighs were a testament to that.
Shadow took a deep breath, focusing on the weight of the birds still resting on his legs. He was starting to spiral. One of the only useful things his forced therapy appointments had given him was the ability to more easily recognize when his brain was going to turn around in the same circles over and over again. That didn’t always help him stop the spiral, but it was better than his previous inability to even recognize them.
He watched the birds flit back and forth through the space, letting his mind linger on their actions rather than his own in an attempt to pull his mind from the path it was trying to go down. After a long moment, Shadow felt himself relax. For the moment, he was just a hedgehog being used as a perch. His eyes slipped closed, the combined weight of the birds and heat of the summer sun making him a bit drowsy.
But all good things had to come to an end, he supposed. Sol eventually came back, heralded by the rickety slide of several doors. Shadow forced his eyes open right before the last door slid open.
“Alright, I’m done. Let’s go down to the apartment so you can wash your hands and head out.”
Shadow resisted the urge to protest, brushing the pigeons off of his legs and standing. “You didn’t check the last section.”
Sol looked confused for a second, then laughed. “Didn’t need to.”
Shadow felt that feeling from before threatening to rear its head again and mentally stomped on it. Not the time. He didn’t reply to Sol, just made his way to the door, but Sol held it shut.
“You’ve got a passenger,” Sol said, laughing again. “Pepper, you can’t use him as a nest.”
Oh. Shadow brushed a hand over the top of his head, picking up the pigeon and giving her a weak glare. It wasn’t her fault that he had gotten used to her weight on his head, but he blamed her nonetheless.
Sol scooped her up from Shadow’s hand, settling her on a perch like he had before. Pepper had other plans, though, flying back onto Shadow’s head the moment she was set down. Shadow let out a huff of amusement, scooping her up again. “You’re a troublemaker,” Shadow scolded, red eyes meeting orange with an intensity that was probably a bit much, even for him. Pepper just fluffed up her feathers, seemingly satisfied with herself.
“Here, let me,” Sol said, scooping Pepper up again and giving her those cheek scratches that she loved. “Now head through the door while she isn’t fixating on you.”
Shadow did so, though he felt a strange sense of loss. He would miss that little pigeon.
Sol followed a few seconds later, leading Shadow back out of the loft. Shadow paused to grab his gloves, then followed Sol outside. It was only once they got into the elevator that Sol spoke again.
“So, how’d you like them?”
“I,” Shadow paused, searching for the right words, “I enjoyed it. Your birds are… friendly.”
“Sure are, kid, that’s the whole point!” Sol laughed. “Glad you enjoyed ‘em. Didn’t seem like a happy camper at first.”
Shadow just hummed, fixing his gaze on the elevator doors. He had enjoyed himself after the rough start, mostly. While cleaning the loft hadn’t been the most pleasant task, it had a simple monotony to it that was almost appealing. The way that the birds had taken over his head and quills at every given opportunity had been overwhelming, but not strictly unpleasant. Maybe he could learn to enjoy it.
They both stepped out of the elevator silently, and once they were back in the apartment, Sol just gestured to the kitchen sink before busying himself with something in the living room. Shadow washed his hands, nose wrinkling a bit at the strong scent of the soap, and replaced his gloves before turning to look at Sol.
The old man looked up from his task after what seemed like an hour, giving Shadow a questioning look. He snapped, “you heading out or what?”
Shadow resisted the urge to snap back at him, a bit taken aback by the change in tone, settling for glaring at him for a long moment before responding, bluntly, “I’d like to help out again.”
“You what?” Sol looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
Shadow let out an exasperated huff. Was it really so unimaginable that he had enjoyed himself enough to want to come back another day?
“Let me get this straight,” Sol said, “you came in here growling and complaining, and now you’re asking to come back.”
“Yes.”
“Huh. If you really want, I guess you could.” Sol scratched at his chin thoughtfully before continuing, “You can come by Mondays or Tuesdays. Just knock, I’ll be here.”
Shadow nodded, heading for the door, and Sol just gave him a little wave before returning to what he had been doing. Shadow closed the door behind him, checking the time as he walked toward the stairs (he was not trusting that rusty elevator again) only to find that it was already approaching mid-afternoon. He sighed. At least Rouge wouldn’t be home until later, so he could have the apartment to himself for a few hours.
He opted to walk back, since the apartment wasn’t far. The events of that morning had put him in the mood to slow down for a little bit. The sun was warm against his fur, and he let himself bask. Just a little.
- - -
“So, did you have fun on your little pigeon adventure?” Rouge asked, once she arrived home from work that evening.
“No,” Shadow lied.