The wind smelled of copper and ozone as Sonic skidded to a stop on the ridge overlooking Angel Island. Below, the ruins glowed with the last amber of sunset; above, the sky had deepened to bruised red. He rolled onto his back, letting the chill of the stone seep into him, and watched Knuckles moving like a shadow among the broken pillars.
If you wanted a different tone, length, pairing, format (script/poem/NSFW), or a file-ready version, say which and I’ll rewrite. sonicknuckleswsonic3bin file work
Sonic touched the palm first and threw himself down, chest heaving. Knuckles arrived seconds later, planting his fist on the trunk and grinning widely. “Hmph. You got lucky.” The wind smelled of copper and ozone as
Knuckles watched him with narrowed eyes. “Like a long visit?” If you wanted a different tone, length, pairing,
“Race?” Knuckles repeated, a corner of his mouth twitching.