A pen, ink, a piece of paper and... some kind of two tails?

            All disheveled, slovenly from sleep, of average height but slightly taller, a bright yellow fox with two long tails got out of bed, walking up. He went to the mirror on the wall, looked down into it, looking at himself with tired turquoise eyes and then looked at his desk with a built-in shuflyádka to his right. On the table was an inkwell, a búsel bead pen, on the right side there was a not very high stack of painted sheets of paper and on the left the same stack only from completely empty sheets.             The fox's left arm was held by several coils of bandage on his shoulder because it broken which is why our hero stayed at home for almost a year. Although the arm healed as it did three months after the injury but the two-tailed did not come out, for unknown reasons, he did not even take off the bandage.             Why was the arm broken?             It's just that long before today's events, a couple of months ago, when our fox was walking in Green Hills and was at the hillside, he accidentally fell trom a small but decent height which caused him to break his arm, although he should be grateful that he was alive at all. Well, at least that's what he remembered because after that incident he began to have some blackouts in his memory. He even confused many rooms in his own house, not remembering which was the bathroom and witch was the bedroom.             For the entire time he was at home, almost no one came to him, only sometimes Sonic, Knuckles, Amy and the other, ofter separately, and even then they were outside the door, and they told him something, and their friend did not want to open the door which he locked with a key.             But today, he would still come into the open, deciding that it was enough to be locked up from the whole world! He needs to go out to his friends and acquaintances, so as not to go completely crazy from staying in the four walls of his two-story house.             Opening the tired wooden white door of his room, he went to the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth. Having done this, he, having already cheered up a little, went down the wooden stairs ( in his house almost everything was made of wood, except for the walls ) down. Entering the kitchen, the fox brewed himself hot tea with milk and ate yesterday's lagman for breakfast, even though the time on the clock already showed half past ten.             After that, he took his small bag with a long shoulder strap and draper it over his left shoulder, then went to the closet, opened it, and, considering what to wear, he close a scarf up to five meters long, black as coal, as there was enough to look like on the street. It's a cool breeze, looking out of the windows with embroidered dark gray ornaments, similar to the the Belarusian ones, indicating the soul with youth. Wrapping one arm around his thin neck a couple of times ( he still had the bandage on his shoulder holding his fully healed arm ), leaving the two long ends hanging, the two-tailed fox went to the front door of his apartment with a diamond-shaped window and opened the key that was in his bag, thinking about something with a sad expression the kind of face.             After unlocking this unfortunate door — it had not been opened for almost several months, and the door had open and close — the fox went outside, contemplating the light he had almost forgotten, after almost a year of being imprisoned in his house of his own free will.             Breathing in the afternoon breeze, looking into the distance, from the hill, at the low houses by the sea, with a flowing scarf, the fox walked snowly with his thin legs, which were wearing red and white sneakers with white socks, went to the gate of the wooden fence and opened it, after which he went out onto the tiled sidewalk surround by glass.             First, he looked ahead for a couple of seconds, peering there at the small town, then, standing sideways to it, he looked down at the gray stone, thinking about something, or remembering something from his big-eared, flaffy head. But he would not have had time to stand like that for a minute, staring at his feet, when suddenly a man's, youthful voice rang out from afar, accompanied by intense running:             "Hey, hey!.."             First, pricking up, the ears turned at the same speed as the footsteps of running, like cats, and them all the other parts of the head paind attention to the voice, quickly turning over to that front.             And the voice added even that hour:             "Tails, Tails!.."