Art can be found here

Starter:

White and grey blanket the sky as dry snow gusts across what used to be a road. The lights on Scourges lifted truck both help and hinder visibility; contrasting close flake clumps with the dark distant scenery. Large trees bow and bend with the weight they carry. Talk about a whiteout. The damn place got hit with record breaking snow. Tch- and Eggman thinks the globes climate isn't changing.

On the boarder of Holoska, Scourge built his little home; away from prying eyes and powerful authorities. Something about living in isolation became the exact peace he didn't know he needed. The downside, of course, is the turbulent weather.

The town has most of what he needs (when stores are open of course). And on occasion he uses his super speed to get any other things he wants, but his travel away is limited. If the earth or locals can't provide it, then he's not interested in going too far out of the way. At least not anymore. Not after his release from Zone jail.

His truck keeps chugging along. At this rate he'll be home in 45 min- wait what's that?

He squints and leans forward, a small drift on the side of the road. *A tree? A stone?* He wonders. As he drives closer, what he sees makes his blood run cold.

A Mobian hand, a scarf blowing in the wind.

A memory flashes in his mind of his first winter in this harsh, cold, beautiful climate. His old self would have gladly left to continue home, but right now, the thought of leaving doesn't even cross his mind.

He skids to an abrupt stop. "Shit shit shit!". Scourge hops out of the truck and rushes to the small lump in the snow. He figs quickly and scoops up the frozen frostbit person. At first he wonders if they're dead, but a puff of air from their nose bathes him in immense relief. "Alright. Alright."

He puts the person in their car, and hips in the driver's side. He turns the heat to max and strips them of their wet clothes (without violating their modesty). "Can ya hear me?" He asks. "What's ya name?"