Shadow: The Origin Of A Legend

Chapter 38

A few hours later, Scourge prances through the Hedgehog's Outerwear section, gleefully chattering on about something while he checks out their leather jackets, trying to find an adequate replacement for his tattered coat. I only half-listen to him, knowing that he's mostly prattling on simply because he's used to being alone. A smirk dances across my face as I watch him try on a jacket that's clearly too large for him, flailing his arms so that the sleeves flop about. I haven't seen him act like this before--he's hopping about like a little kid in a candy store. "I don't think that one fits, buddy," I call as I walk calmly over to him.

"No shit, Sherlock," he quips, shrugging it off again and lazily slapping it on the hanger, trying to jam it back on the rack.

"Here, allow me," I say, hiding my exasperation, taking it from his hand and properly placing the coat on its hanger, then slipping it easily right back where he found it. "Honestly, do you not know how to hang something up?" I sigh. "I've never even owned a jacket and I know this."

He shrugs carelessly. "Whatever, bro. It's not like anyone's gonna fuss over tha leather jackets not being put back perfectly." Rifling through the clothes, he bites his lip, looking for his size, he snorts. "I'm sure you're the only person who actually cares whether or not they're all in their proper place."

"Organization is important," I argue, "and for all you know some poor underpaid employee is the one who has to sort all this crap. I'd rather not make their day any rougher than it has to be." Dusting my hands off, I scowl at him as he blatantly ignores me, shoving jackets here and there. Irritated, my ears twitch and I curl my lip slightly. "Hey! Were you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" Scourge leans back to peer around the jackets at me. "Sorry, I was too busy not caring." He quips, picking up a jacket with flames streaking the sleeves.

I groan in exasperation, face-palming. "Gah, forget it." Crossing my arms, I lean back on my right leg, watching as he shrugs the leather biker jacket on gleefully, with a massive grin. I can't stay annoyed at him forever, though, especially not with how adorably excited he is, and a small smile, echoing his, sneaks onto my face. Honestly, who would have thought that the toughest hedgehog on the streets would act like this simply because of a coat display?

"Look, Stripes, this one fits! And it's almost identical to my last one!" The emerald hedgehog cheers, looking at himself in a nearby mirror. He gently flicks his sunglasses and they fall off his forehead, landing on his nose perfectly to cover his eyes. He growls playfully, posing in a 'tough' manner, crossing his arms and baring his teeth in a faux snarl. I stifle a laugh as he switches through several different ridiculous postures, wondering whether or not he knows how silly he looks. "Do I look great or what?"

"Your poses are dumb as hell," I reply, walking over to look in the mirror with him, "but the jacket suits you well." I try not to focus on my own reflection, knowing that I won't like what I see, but my eyes still drift over to it--I can't help but look. My fur is ragged, dirty and tousled, my jacket torn slightly, splotched with filth. The newly-pierced ear has oozed blood down my face, dried into my matted hair. My heart sinks slightly; I look positively disgusting. My eyes have darkness beneath them, the skin purplish with exhaustion, and the fingers of my gloves are starting to tear, soiled with dirt and blood. I should get new ones, honestly--these will just raise suspicion. Stuffing my hands back in my pocket, I look over at Scourge's reflection as he strikes another pose.

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout, Stripes." He blows a kiss at his reflection, and I snort in an attempt to not laugh my ass off. "I look hot no matter what."

"Suuuuure you do," I reply with false sarcasm, rolling my eyes, walking past him. I don't particularly want to admit it, given how large his ego is, but he isn't entirely wrong. Clearing my throat, I change the subject, glancing over my shoulder at him, "If you're done messing around here, we should get going--it was already midday when we got here, and we've killed a decent amount of time. We should see if we can't find a clock."