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The clouds parted just as they always did for the “Tornado,” chilly and damp to the touch, but nearly intangible.
Miles—or rather, Tails—was only still mildly irritated that they didn’t taste like much at all, but the irritation remained as thin as the clouds every time he reached that spot in the sky.
This time, though, Sonic stopped his humming to comment on the clouds’ shape. They didn’t seem that different from amidst them, though the fox could make out that they trailed off thinner and longer at the tips. “Cirrus,” that was the word Sonic had thrown out. Probably the name for the feathery shape, then. Tails knew already that a few clouds were more than just clouds. Cumulonimbus, for example, became a favorite word—despite how terrifying a product the actual cloud resulted in. He shivered and decided to ask Sonic, just in case.
“Huh? Naw, these ones are too little and far up for any storms.”
Tails managed to ignore the strange clouds when they dropped behind the plane. Because Sonic didn’t lie. Because Sonic wouldn’t do anything to put him in danger. Because they were just clouds with a special name.
Usually, flights were frequent but short. The numerous islands in the area helped; few of them were completely isolated with the help of a trusty plane. This one bored even the usually eager kit as blank hills rolled by below. It might have been its own kind of ocean—endless, all consuming, and so different from his former “home.”
At least whatever destination Sonic had eagerly dragged them both to couldn’t be more boring than the flight there. Besides, knowing would ruin the surprise.
“It’s kind of a hidden gem,” the hero had cheerfully explained. “Even for the mainland it’s a ways away, so buckle in and sit tight, keed!”
Tails flipped through the creased magazines stuffed into the passenger seat compartments, the otherwise glossy pages boasting about different gadgets or the latest breakthroughs of historians, scientists, or explorers. He occasionally fished amongst a few energy bars and mints for a pen and marked up the pages further. A few of those wrenches looked promising… though maybe they would be a bit more so if he had a place to keep them all.
His eyes eventually wandered back to cloudline, where a more distinct feathery patch stood out. More of Sonic’s clouds. Whatever made these “cirrus” special, it wasn’t anything that the island had. In fact, places like that usually held only storms or sun, and nothing in between.
Plucking a plastic cap from between his teeth, the fox absentmindedly began adding wisps and waves among the catalogue.
“Still doing alright back there?”
Tails nodded, then corrected that with a verbal “yes.”
“Cool, cool. We’re most of the way there, smooth sailing. Or flying, rather.”
“Mhmm.”
The silver pen took a few vicious shakes to get working, but bright blue clouds wouldn’t do.
“And I’m sure you need something else to do anyway.”
At the drawn out tone, Tails’ ears perked up. “Huh?”
“I’m saying you can have a turn flying the Tornado if ya like. Since there’s no more turbulence, we can just swap out real quick.”
Swap out simply meant climbing over one another to switch spots in the same cramped seat. And out from behind the sharp quills that still made some tiny, paranoid part of him flinch. And out to where he could better guess the carefully kept destination, and feel the hum of the engine transferred to his palms.
“I’m okay, thank you,” he told Sonic. “Besides, this adventure is kind of your thing anyways. I don’t want to mess that up for you.”
The bright blue quills shifted slowly around until Sonic managed to peer over one shoulder.
“What’s that supposed to mean, keed?”
“Exactly what it means. If I’m not supposed to know where you’re taking it, it doesn’t make sense for me to be the one flying there.”
Sonic turned away, the motion followed by a few clicks.
“That doesn’t make it ‘my thing.’ I’ve got something I’m choosing to show you. Which makes it for you.”
“Oh.”
The plane’s engine grumbled louder.
“Thank you.”
Really, that should have been his first reaction. He made up for it by actually grabbing the few snacks Sonic stowed just for him. Food and distraction. The magazines had lost their novelty anyway. Between bits of sugar and his thoughts, he managed to ignore the guilt like it was just another strange cloud: present but transparent, no storm in sight. Only a promise against any such stormy weather.
Eventually a higher pitched sound rose and fell over the Tornado’s usual noise levels. It began just when the kit drifted off again, nearly unconscious. Then, when he shifted upright or even pricked his ears, the sound left.
Sonic eventually maneuvered around to glance at the kid again.
“You alright?”
Tails managed a nod, head still angled to catch the hint of whatever had stopped so abruptly.
“Wait, were you humming?”
“Maybe.” Sonic raised a hand towards his quills, then simply moved it to brush at his snout in a smooth motion. “Fine, yeah, you got me.” Even his own ears betrayed him, slanting this way and that.
Funny. Who knew even an unstoppable, fearless hero could get flustered?
“So? What were you humming?”
“I’m not actually sure,” he admitted. “It just gets stuck in my head again every so often. Must’ve picked it up from somewhere years ago.”
“Years ago? Like when you were close to my age?”
Sonic flashed a bright smile. “Who knows? Anyway, I’m glad you’re back to asking a dozen questions a minute.”
Tails could feel his fur bristle slightly and breathed deeply. Then the exact words spoken registered.
“You’re… glad?”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I was worried when you suddenly got all quiet on me. That brain of yours works in pretty cool ways, and I’ve never met anyone as curious as you.”
“And that’s…”
“That’s great! It’s one of a buncha things that make you one of a kind.”
He could agree that he was “one of a kind” in a few ways, but most of that didn’t extend far past his namesakes, which he squeezed between his hands. Anything else that fit that definition rolled into traits that only made him a nuisance, and really, his curiosity couldn’t be considered entirely unique. He just happened to specialize in never settling for simple answers.
Shivering, he turned to ask the question he’d been afraid to voice for a long time. He stopped at the sight of his friend’s expression, twisted almost entirely around to face the kit.
Sonic was smiling, less teeth and more bright eyes. Then he pointed over the Tornado’s side, and just like with every other step of the pair’s journey together, Tails didn’t hesitate to follow his gesture.
The plain land below piled up into actual hills, and Tails’ breath caught as they pushed into sharp peaks. A couple, situated on either side of the Tornado’s steady path, loomed far higher than the plane’s altitude.
“Surprise!”
Sonic’s gleeful voice pulled his attention slightly away from the scene, but only slightly. A silver thread was pulled straight through the mountains—a river, narrowed in by the rocky terrain, but widening into a few dozen individual paths. A few waterfalls dropped from the mountainsides to join the water.
After squinting too long into the dim light, Tails looked up and noticed the swathe of white and gray stretched out for miles. Cirrus. Even the scale of the strange clouds couldn’t quite account for the pale, blurred sky that suddenly transported itself where all the bright blue was supposed to be.
Not until a drop of pure cold landed on the kit’s nose. He squealed, immediately rubbing it off. Another took its place. And another, again and again, until the wet white petals grew in size and stuck to his fur. Soon the white peaks were matched by the unending flurry.
“So. How do you like the snow?”
Tails breathed in the air, and snow along with it, and pressed forward to wrap his tails around his friend as best as he could manage.
“There’s nothing like it back… there. It’s beautiful.”
To his delight, Sonic leaned into the little fox’s embrace and returned the hug even tighter.
“Every single snowflake is unique,” he told the kid. “No matter how many bajillions are out there—” Tails giggled at the number. “—none of them can match another. That’s why I like ‘em so much.”
“Because they’re one of a kind?” Tails guessed. He stuck out a tongue to more purposefully catch the snowflakes.
“That, and because each one of them is created from all the perfect conditions. A tiny, one-of-a-kind ice crystal forms from way up above. All of them do. And then they end up wherever and however they’re meant to be.”
Sonic gently steered the plane towards the path between twin mountains. Closer to the ground, the frozen place felt much more alive with the river crashing through the rock. Even the banks gradually turned pale.
“Hmm.” The kid yawned, still wrapping his arms carefully around his friend. “Do you think we’re like that? I mean, who we’re both… supposed to be? And even that we met each other?”
“Absolutely, Tails. Absolutely.”