"Here's da plan," Scourge pants, running alongside me. I'm still a little worried that he's not had enough food to be exercising like this, but I know there's not much else that we can do. "We run out here, grab the atlas, then stop back at my place to grab the food and that jacket. Once we gotta route all planned out, we go. Good?"

"Good." I reply, skating evenly across the ground. I deliberately take whatever side holds the most obstacles to keep him from having too much difficulty; leaping on top of dumpsters and dashing across walls are things I grew up doing. Nimbly I spring up, landing heavily on a few trash bags in the open dumpster and trying not to gag at the overwhelming stench as I launch back into the air. The rockets on my shoes fire involuntarily, keeping me in the air--instead of panicking, I just roll with it, leaning forward and tucking my arms in by my side. More than a little rusty at using these, I say to myself, smirking slightly. Guess I'll just have to re-adjust.

"Whoa, bro, you're flying!" Scourge crows, gaping. He's running a bit ahead of me, a pace or three, leading the way, so he has to twist his head awkwardly to look up at me--to his right and behind him.

I turn my head to look at him, a blank expression on my face. "Wow, really? I didn't know," I snark; he gives me an exhausted look, then hops over a trashcan in his way, curling into a ball midair only to uncurl moments before hitting the ground. Blinking, I lift one eyebrow, confused. Why would he do that instead of just jumping like a normal person? The rockets in my shoes turn off and I swing my feet in front of me, leaning back; my heels strike the concrete hard, sparks flying as I transfer my momentum from flying to running.

"Why'd ya stop flying?" The malachite-toned hedgehog queries, looking puzzled; as he speaks, he turns down a slightly less dingy alleyway, and I follow suit.

"I'm not entirely in control here," I reply. "The shoes do as they please and I just go with it. My guess is that the shoe's functions are triggered by toe movement or something, but I don't remember." Shrugging, I kick up onto the wall, sprinting parallel to the floor.

"That sucks," he furrows his brows. "Hey, ain't it dangerous for ya to not know?"

"Hmph," I growl in response, lying through my teeth, "I can handle myself." Remembering my embarrassing face-plant at Robotnik's base, I cringe. He does have a point, but it's not like I own any other shoes or anything. I have no other option--god only knows I'm not gonna go barefoot, not if I can help it. I'm not an animal. Not anymore, anyways.

"We're almost there. It'll be on your next left." Scourge points, and I track the direction of his gesture with my gaze. A small building bearing a nigh-illegible sign is a few blocks away, but rapidly approaching. The emerald hedgehog slows down, and I follow his lead; as we get closer I realize the sign says 'Tourist Centre.' It also bears Robotnik's logo. "This place has maps of everywhere. Most of 'em are free, but I dunno if the atlas counts as a book or a map."

"Most likely it does," I reply, stopping behind it. People bustle by on the streets; fortunately this building is in the middle of the street, with houses providing adequate shadows for us to lurk in. "Listen, since we're trying to go without being seen," I begin, but Scourge interrupts me.

"Don't worry about it. Nobody's gonna mess wiff us, and since we're leavin' it don't matter if anyone sees." Grabbing me by the wrist roughly, he drags me forward. "That bein' said, let's not dawdle."

"Right," I reply, pulling my hand out of his grasp. Jeez, the guy's got a grip like iron. "Don't do that. I can walk on my own."

"Ya ain't fast enough," he gripes, opening the door and ducking through it; a jingling bell announces our arrival.

"Hush." I growl, "I can move just as fast as you." Scanning the place, I notice it's mysteriously empty, save for a bored-looking cashier who seems to be ignoring us. The store looks oddly like a garden-variety gas station, with gross and mysteriously sticky linoleum floors, flickering fluorescent lights, and rows of snacks. However, on one side of the store, there are rows upon rows of brochures, maps, atlases--anything navigational. Scourge walks over to the food, poking around, while I start reading through the pamphlets and such. I need an atlas, at least of this area, preferably of the country. Growling softly, I flip through a book marked "World Atlas," but not only is it awkwardly large and heavy, it's not specific enough. The maps just show the general countries' area on the continents. Sighing, I put it back, picking up another one. To my surprise, a piece of paper falls out of it; I kneel down, picking it up. Something's scratched on it, in pencil, written poorly, as if jotted down in a rush. I can't tell what it says, so I just shrug and open the book to a random page, sticking it back inside.

" 'Ey," Scourge mutters, stepping up beside me.

"Hm?" I stand up straight, looking over at him. He looks cool and calm as ever, but he has his hands jammed in his pockets now, and he's clearly deliberately trying to look casual. "What are you doing?" Is he hiding something?

"Keep it down, will ya?" He snarls, looking a bit nervous. "Have you found a map yet?" Definitely hiding something. From the way that his pockets are making cellophane crinkling noises, I'm guessing he lifted a few snacks. Normally, I wouldn't allow that sort of behavior, but since this place is affiliated with Robotnik, I suppose I can let it slide. And besides, arguing with Scourge is as difficult as herding cats.

I look at the book in my hands, then open it and flip through. It has maps of all the countries in the world, in addition to main roads adjoining cities and countries. "This one," I reply. "It's perfect."

"Great. Does it cost anything?" He looks over my shoulder at it. "Aw, sweet, the thing's got color pictures."

Smirking, I look back at him. "It probably does, but I get the impression we aren't doing things the conventional way today?"

He chuckles evilly. "I never do." Stepping a bit closer, the tough hedgehog points ahead of him, almost hitting me in the face with his arm. "Back door, over there. Go." He hisses in my ear. "I'll follow ya in a minute or so. Take da first right and hide out--I'll meet ya there." Nudging me, he steps back, turning on a dime and walking off. I look back to the corner that he pointed at; leaning back in order to get the shelves out of my vision, I realize that what I couldn't see earlier was a rather dingy-looking brown door, left slightly ajar. The sounds and scents of the city writhe into the room from it--it clearly is indeed some form of back door. Wow, I didn't even notice there was a door there... Either I'm getting rusty, or Scourge is more talented than I thought. Casually, I walk to the door and slide it open, moving carefully in case it creaks. Lucky for me it seems recently oiled and glides open soundlessly; stepping outside, I leave the door half-open, looking around at the city. Bleak brick walls, somber grey sky, sounds of horns and people talking greet me all at once, and I walk down the alley, taking the first right I see. Leaning against the wall, I flip through the book, rapidly locating the map of The Heaven-Scraping Mountains. Parts of it are incomplete, but it's based on the records of 2001, before the most recent expedition. Leafing through the pages, I try to find a regional map--to my dismay, the city we're currently in, Akido, is quite a ways away.

"Heya!" A familiar rough voice chirps, and I turn my head. Scourge stands with his hands still jammed in his pockets, beaming like an idiot. "Man, that was too freakin' easy."

"Exactly how much did you take?" I raise a brow at him, trying to keep from smiling myself. Something about that massive and glowing grin is horribly contagious.

"Enough," he replies evasively, trekking past me. "I'll show ya when we get back to my place--let's scram, for now, 'fore that kid at the register realizes we left." Taking off, he leaves me in the dust.

"Keh," I snort, detaching from the wall to stand on my own. "Couldn't wait for me?" Smirking, I leap forward, breaking into a sprint myself. We race along the streets, neck and neck for most of the time, skidding to a stop at the same time in front of his trailer-house. Scourge is panting, bent over, holding his sides; by contrast I stand up straight, breathing a little bit harder than usual, but not as winded as my grass-colored cohort. "Are you alright?" Concerned, I lean over him a bit, poking the side of his head. "Don't over-exert yourself, that won't help anything."

"I'm...fine," he wheezes, straightening up. His cheeks are red as a tomato and his fur is grossly sweaty. "Ya gave me....quite the....workout....Stripes." Running his right hand through his hair, he steps up to the stairs, smiling. "Man, last time I ran that fast was when I ran from the feds," I begin to follow him, a few paces behind, as he opens the door, " 'n they was hard-pressed ta catch me." Laughing, he shrugs off his jacket, and various bags of chips and crackers tumble out of it.

Aghast, I gape at the small pile of packaged food as Sourge shakes his jacket out, dropping even more. "Dude, what did you do, clean them out of stock?"

"Somethin' like that," he grins mischievously while turning the pockets inside-out. "They didn't even have any security systems at all. 'S almost like they was beggin' me ta take it."

Shaking my head, I close the door behind me gently. "I don't think anyone would beg you to steal something," I snort. "That idea is just ridiculous."

Shrugging, the green hedgehog puts his jacket back on, tipping his head from side to side to pop his vertebrae; disturbed, I wince at the loud cracking noises. "Anyways," Scourge yawns, "I'mma go get that jacket I tolj'ya about, an' you plan a route with that map."

"Already on it," I reply, sitting down and opening the atlas to the country-wide map, eyes flickering over the page. Hmm, Akido, where is Akido? Spotting it, I triumphantly tap my pointer finger on it; turning my attention back to the geographical features, I spot the mountain range I was looking for rather easily. It's apparently perilous enough that no one will build cities anywhere near it. The last city closest to it is Soleanna, and even then it's several hundreds of miles away. No roads lead to the mountains, but several go right past them, it seems. Tracing a route with my finger, south to north, I notice that the fastest path runs right past Sonic's base of operations. Biting my lip, I pause to think, flicking my ears. Is it safe to move so close to his team? God only knows they can't stand me, and they'd sooner throw Scourge in jail than just ignore him--not that he hasn't done anything to deserve it, but I can't help but feel that he has a decent enough reason for what he's done. He's just trying to survive, I guess--he's still a kid, and when he was even younger he foolishly built up this reputation for himself. He probably didn't realize how difficult that'd make life for him.

"Hey," Scourge pokes the right side of my face. I look up from the book, then turn to my right, blinking. I'm sitting on the ground, my back up against the couch, and he's sprawled himself across the back of the couch, face in the cushion, his legs dangling off it. In one hand he has a lump of fabric, presumably the jacket, and the other is poking me in the forehead now. His neck is craned at a peculiar angle, and his chin rests on the seats.

"What are you doing?" I ask, giving him an annoyed look.

"Do you have the route planned out yet?" Blinking at me innocently, he stops poking my forehead, leaving his hand to dangle a bit sadly right in front of my face.

"Sort of," I reply. "The quickest route takes us right past the area where Sonic lives. Which could really prove troublesome for us, especially if he happens to hang out in that city sometimes."

"So long as we ain't knockin' on his front door, I don't care." The shark-toothed hedgehog growls, crossing his arms beneath his head.

Irritated by his carelessness, I sigh, flattening my ears against my head. "Try to think a bit, idiot...If anyone in that city calls him saying they've seen us, we're screwed. He runs fast enough that we won't be able to get out before he finds us. And the way that these cities are planned out, we might have to stop at every other one we run through to re-stock."

"Aw, c'mon, like we can't run across the country in a matter of days!" Scourge snaps, frustrated.

"If we go as the crow flies, we'll run into construction--didn't you hear about the highway renovations?--and there'll still be at least one city to run through," I fire back. "We need to do this in a way that doesn't let anyone know what we're doing. Which means we have to slow down and move like normal people."

"What?!" He cries, shoving his arms beneath him to raise himself off the cushions. "No way! Can't we just run?!"

"Are you or aren't you trying to keep a low profile?" His outburst doesn't disturb me; my voice is cool, smooth and even. "If you want to stay out of the public eye, we'll have to use public transport only to move. Either that or we walk."

"Uuuughhhhhh!" The green hedgehog groans, flopping back down into the couch, his voice muffled by the cushions. "You're right, but ughhh, I don't wanna hafta use public transport. The buses smell, the subways are full of real suspicious people, and they're both slow."

"Unless you have a car, we don't have any other way to move unnoticed." I point out, shutting the book. "Since this is gonna be the slowest trip on the planet, we need to set out immediately." Standing up, I turn on my left heel, swinging my right foot with the motion.

The malachite-furred hedgehog lifts his head to look up at me. "Can't protest to that," he grunts, rolling over and sitting up, balancing on the back of the couch, "but first, the jacket." He tosses it at me and I catch it with one hand.

"You really don't have to--" I begin to protest, but he lifts one finger in the air, wagging it back and forth.

"No, no. Ya gotta cover them iconic stripes, and I know ya don't like dirt too much. So, wear the hoodie and pull da hood ova ya hair." Grinning triumphantly, he crosses his arms. "Put it on awreddy. Daylight's burnin'!"

Smirking, I set the book down, unfurling the wadded-up hoodie. It's a deep reddish black, with a crimson pocket-pouch; it half-unzips, stopping at the pocket. The zipping function is clearly made to just let in air to heat or cool its wearer. Baggy sleeves, wider at the wrists than the shoulders, and two holes in the back, indicate that it was meant to be worn by hedgehogs like me; the hood, too, is irregularly large to accommodate our hair and ears, and it's ruby-colored just like the pockets. The bottom of it is a stretchable scarlet material; as I step into it slightly awkwardly, I realize that it doesn't limit mobility whatsoever, a very nifty feature. I shrug the sleeves on, and notice that this material is perfectly soft and pleasant to wear. I've never worn any sort of clothes before, but this jacket is shockingly cozy. It's baggy enough to not crush my fur uncomfortably, but not so baggy as to get in the way. "Wow," I gasp, pulling the hood up over my spines. "It fits perfectly." The front, when unzipped, perfectly frames my chest-fluff, and the sleeves cover the tops of my gloves, leaving only the white of the glove visible.

Scourge chuckles, looking overjoyed. "It looks great on ya, Stripes!" Leaping off the couch, he snags the foodstuffs he lifted, putting them back in his jacket.

I smile a bit bashfully, stretching one arm out and craning my head around to look at my back. My tail sticks out from beneath the elastic-like material of the waistband, which falls around the top of my legs. "You think so?"

"Hell yeah," he replies, putting the last package in his sleeve. "Color scheme's perfect for ya. Looks fly as hell."

I stop examining myself, bending down to pick up the pastry box. "Thanks, Scourge." I look over my shoulder as I clasp my hands on the cardboard, grinning, with my arms parallel to my muzzle. "You don't have to go with me, you know, but I'm glad you are. It'll be more fun this way."

"Eh, I needed ta leave this dump anyways," he smirks as I straighten up, hefting the box. It's a bit narrower than my chest, and I frown.

"How are we gonna transport this?" I ponder, drumming my fingers on the cube's sides.

"I got some'a those plastic sandwich bags, you could store 'em in there an' just ditch the box," Scourge offers, tugging sharply on the collar of his jacket. "They're in the corner cabinet there," he elaborates, gesturing towards the kitchen area. I nod, vaulting nimbly over the couch and walking to the aforementioned cabinet. Shifting the weight of the box, I reach with my right arm, opening the cabinet easily; the only things in the cabinet were a dusty jar of peanut butter and a box of sandwich bags. "Hurry it up, will ya?" Impatient, the bright-furred hedgehog taps his foot on the ground, growling.

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," I grumble, rapidly bagging up the assorted breadstuffs, jamming them in my pockets and sleeves. After an annoyingly long time, I finally have them all bagged up, two or three per bag (depending on size), nestled securely in my jacket. "Okay. Good to go." Whirling around, I bound over to Scourge as he rips the door open, hopping out of his trailer with me at his heels. We slam the door shut behind us, and he pauses to lock it as I check a map of the city. "Alright, the metro is only a few blocks away, and there's a two 'o clock and a two-thirty that can get us from here to the edges of the city," I mutter, reading the charts and data along the side. "From there, a train can take us all the way to Apotos, but it'll take all day."

"Great, what're we waitin' for?" Beaming, my green friend thumps me on the back. "Let's get goin'--lead the way." Nodding, I stuff the atlas in my sleeve, taking off down the street.