Falco looked out over the landscape, quickly passing by it as the train blasted through the mountains. It was beautiful; a flowing river slicing the land in two, snowcapped peaks towering above him. It was a shame he didn't have more time to look at it, to study it.
Still, Falco watched on as snow began to fall over the wooded region. It seemed fitting, that something should come to ruin such beauty. Especially considering the circumstances that brought him to said beauty.
He didn't want to think about that. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Falco looked to his feet, glaring at his tiny suitcase, filled with every single thing he owned. He picked it up and placed it on his lap. He ran his hand over the cracked and worn leather of it's surface until he finally reached it's clasp. He pulled the clasp open so that he could observe the suitcase's contents.
A rusted blaster, his father's flight jacket, a wallet filled with 40 dollars, his cell phone, and a crinkled paper with an address on it.
Falco picked up the piece of paper, reading the address over and over.
15 Nuvola Court, Corneria City, Corneria.
Falco sighed and turned his attention back outside.
I'm comin', Fox.
Falco thought, watching as the snow covered the sky, and the sun disappeared behind the grandeur of the mountains.
Fox's father had recently died; something Falco could relate with. His own father had just been placed in a high security prison. Falco didn't think he'd ever make it out, and his mother had died at his birth. And there was NO WAY he was going to let himself get placed in a foster home.
He was all on his own, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Falco didn't like it that way.
He also didn't like the fact that he was losing control.
Or that he had no choice.
Or that he had no idea what he was doing, traveling on a train to some faraway city.
Falco stood up and walked away from his seat. There had to be some way to understand all of this, right? He couldn't just walk blindly where he was led, he couldn't just let himself stay down.
Falco had to get a grip.
Falco stepped up the stairs, studying the large structure in front of him.
"Damn, Fox…I knew you were rich, but…." Falco thought aloud.
He was standing in front of the McCloud Manor, Fox's home. Or, at least, his former home. It was strange that Fox wanted to meet Falco here, of all places. Should Fox be discovered, Falco had no idea what would happen to him. He'd probably end up with what Falco was trying to escape; a house filled with annoying siblings and nobody that really gave a shit whether you lived or died.
Falco knocked tentatively on the door. After a moment's wait, it slowly creaked open, revealing a Fox completely different than the one Falco was used to.
Fox's fur was matted and covered in all sorts of grime and filth. His eyes were bleached red, and bloodshot. He shivered incessantly, as if he was freezing to death. Which, considering the season, he probably was.
Fox motioned Falco inside with a limp hand.
"Fox…holy shit, man…."
The house was dirty and decimated; tables overturned, broken beer bottles littered everywhere, rats crawling around.
"Falco…it's good to see you."
"Well, I wish I could say the same…what happened to you?"
"Hiding from police and whatnot. I've been living in the streets for a few weeks now." Fox said, looking at his feet.
"Damn… you alright?"
"Hah…what do you think?" Fox plopped down, his back sliding across the wall.
It was sad. A 16 year old boy, reduced to this.
"So…why'd you call me?" Falco asked, eager to steer away from the sentimental conversations.
"I'm going to be short with this, since the cops will show up soon: I'm going to re-form Star Fox. And I'm going to need an ace pilot to back me up out there."
"And you want me to be that guy?"
"I don't see anybody better."
Fox put his hand out, awaiting an answer.
Falco took it, and picked Fox up off the floor.