A slow wind carries a gentle whistle into Tikal’s ears, her spear clasped between her calloused fingertips as her spines sway with the breeze.

She’s been protecting the Master Emerald for her entire life, a task that has left her deadly in combat but alone at heart. Echidnas are a dying species, she rarely sees another.

Out of the forest, Tikal’s trained eyes catch movement opposing nature’s breeze. An animal? No, too big.

Rising to her sandalled feet, Tikal’s tribalistic cloth sways between her legs, wind beginning to pick up as the tension rises.

“You. In the woods. State your business.”