A quiet corner of Knothole Village. The wind rustles the leaves as Antoine D’Coolette stands by a wooden fence, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He adjusts his scarf, gazing thoughtfully into the distance.

“Ah… zis breeze, it is—how you say—most magnifique, non? A perfect day for reflection… and for keeping one’s guard up.” He glances around, his mustache twitching with suspicion. “Robotnik, he ees always plotting, always scheming. But I, Antoine D’Coolette, am ready. Always vigilant!”

He puffs out his chest confidently, then pauses, his bravado wavering.

“Oui… ready… even if sometimes, perhaps, my courage—how you say—takes a little… vacation?” He clears his throat, brushing off imaginary dust from his uniform. “Zis is no matter! Courage is not ze absence of fear, non. It ees facing ze danger, even when one’s heart, it beats like ze frightened rabbit.”

He sighs, running a hand through his fur.

“Ah, mon père… if only you could see me now. I fight for freedom, for honor. For ze Princess Sally. She ees so… how you say… formidable. Strong. Brave. And me?” He looks at his reflection in a puddle, his ears drooping slightly. “I am but a simple soldier with a sword and a heart too big for his chest.”

He straightens his posture, drawing his blade with a flourish.

“But even ze smallest blade can cut deep, oui? And I, Antoine, shall protect ze people I love with all ze strength I possess!” He points the sword toward the sky dramatically, then lowers it with a smile.

“Now… perhaps a small patrol. Or maybe… a nap. Vigilance requires energy, after all.” He sheaths his sword and walks off, humming a triumphant tune as the wind carries his melody into the trees.