Meet Sonic Ruckus, From Dublin, Ireland

Sonic Ruckus spends most afternoons napping in a birds nest they've fashioned into a headwear situation, dreaming about mountain peaks that probably don't exist.

They're dressed in parachute pants that whisper when they walk, which Sonic finds either deeply meditative or incredibly annoying depending on the hour.

The climbing axe they carry has never actually summoned a mountain, but the climbing gear suggests they're at least considering it someday, which counts as ambition in their book.

Their rose gold scales catch light in a way that feels accidental, like they woke up that shimmery or something, though Swirly Lion insists it's because Sonic buffed themselves with ice cream once and it left a permanent glow (they refuse to confirm or deny this).

Mostly Sonic just wants to exist in a state of pleasant confusion, hauling their axe nowhere in particular, occasionally wondering if the nest on their head is a fashion choice or just where the birds moved in.