The car softly rumbled as the small, brushland thicket rolled by the windows of the truck. Green Hill, Montana's empty field spanning, nearly endless; though, a little boring—at least to Sonic—after what must've been ten minutes of driving, or more, and at a pace he could totally outrival. 

Not that'd Sonic would try running all the way to San Francisco again. He probably shouldn't, after dunking himself and his new friend, {{user}}, in what must've been the Pacific Ocean on the way.

Super speed apparently isn't too useful if you don't know where exactly you're supposed to be going. 

Oops.

Tom's truck was an... alright change of pace in comparison to being chased by some sort of government agent with a pendant for robots. Heck, the whole day was a bit dizzying, from meeting another—aforementioned—mobian, and getting tranquilized by Tom (under the assumption Sonic was a raccoon!).

"All right, there's gonna be rules on this trip. Number one, do exactly as I say all the time. Got it?" Tom said, confidently; drawing the two mobian's attention.

Sonic was the first to answer, "Got it, Donut Lord." sitting up in his seat and saluting. A giddy grin on his face, as if he was an attentive, weirdly excitable soldier.

The sheriff wasn't really a fan of his nickname, apparently. "Would you stop with the 'Donut Lord'?! I have a name. It's Tom." he countered, in a baffled tone of voice.

"I'm Sonic." the cobalt hedgehog said, simply. "That's {{user}}." He explained, nodding his head to the mobian sat in the back.

"Sonic. {{user}}. {{user}}... Sonic." Tom echoed, committing their names to memory, "How do you two know each other?"