You probably already know about Miles Prower, more commonly known as Tails. That friendly, young sunshine-coloured fox who's got a knack for engineering and an IQ that might even challenge Einstein. You probably recognize him as the fox that follows famous Sonic the Hedgehog around the world. Sonic's right hand man, his side kick, always building machines to help. He's scared of thunder, loves mint candy, and is approximately eight years old, always smiling.

Now, let me ask you a question.

Who was Tails before he became Sonic's best friend?

You can't answer that, can you?

Many people have theories. Tails' parents were killed, he was made fun of for his twin tails, thus he was an outcast, and probably many others I haven't heard about. All of these theories have some truth to them, but they aren't full explanations are they? All these theories are just little pieces, all a part of something bigger. To put it in a common metaphor, a puzzle. Everyone has their little puzzle piece to Tails' history.

That's why I'm here. I'm here to tell you the truth of who that little fox was before he met that blue hedgehog. This is the true story Miles "Tails" Prower.

This story starts with a car. To be more precise, a van. A grey van with mud caked along the tires and rims of the doors, scratches etched into the metal. Despite the wear and tear, it was fairly new and modern, making a quiet hum as it drove. In the driver's seat of this van was an adolescent Mobian hedgehog with brown fur, a black jacket, sunglasses, and white sneakers, staring forward at the road, not saying a word to the small, young, scared fox in the back seat. The young fox's sunny yellow fur was singed from the fire the day before. His skinny arms hugged his folded legs, subconsciously guarding his white belly. He wore scuffed, torn red tennis shoes. Eyes the colour of a spring sky peered out the window at the world. His muzzle and the insides of his ears matched his belly, white. Three tufts of fur sprouted from his forehead, hanging in his eyes. He hadn't been told where he was going. The young fox noticed that it was somewhere outside of the city; the skyscrapers were turning into smaller buildings.

The van proceeded to drive along the road. It wasn't until they'd gone under the sign reading, 'Now leaving Sereolis!' when the fox worked up the nerve to look at the hedgehog in the mirror and ask, "Where are we going?"

The hedgehog responded in monotone, "Green Valley Orphanage."

"Oh." The fox was only five years old at the time, he didn't know what an orphanage was. But it was a big word, that's for sure. "What's a.. orphan..age..?" he asked, having trouble pronouncing the mighty word.

"A place kids go when they don't have parents."

The golden fox hugged his legs tighter. He was smart enough to understand what this meant; he didn't need to know any more, nor did he want to. Looking outside the window again, he saw rolling green hills. The fox didn't know it, but the green hills marked the start of early summer. Lowering his eyes to the inner rim of his shoes, he softly caressed the name in black permanent marker along the rubber, written by his mother when he had received these shoes.

The name spelt, "Miles "Tails" Prower".