I've been told in sketchbook and journal that the 'week' in which we can post resets on Sunday- so even though it hasn't been 7 days, its ok to do another post!

Lychee
GCEA Version: Platinum
Trainer Name: Briar Clark
Link to stats: Here
Word Count: 531
Entry:
Spoiler:

Journal. Late Winter. Morning, light cloud cover. Abundance of grass types.
Moon cycle exactly new (that is, none). Wind strong and gusty from the west. Althemiometer reading green. Mood ring, yellow.
Camera left behind at home, half a day of food and supplies. Mostly granola. In fact, all granola. I only have a granola bar.

A few minutes ago, I witnessed a large herd of stantler running past my house in the melting snow of the late winter. Everyone knows, where stantler go, so too does the mega-delibird! This is a longstanding knowledge among those who study cryptic pokemon such as myself. It is also where the ACTUAL myth of Santa Claus comes from. Pokemon are ancient, and people have been seeing mega-deli for thousands of years, only recently immortalizing it into pop-culture. My classmates told me that mega-deli is a myth, but I am sure they are wrong. We now know that other pokemon in the world can mega evolve, as long as they find the right stones. I believe that delibird has this capability too- but it requires the psychic energy of a herd of these stantler creatures in order to gain enough sentience to seek out the mega evolution stone it so desires. These sort of of coincidences rarely happen in nature, so it stands to reason that pokemon must work as a team in order to grow and evolve.

Anyway, as I was following the stantler tracks in the snow, I realized I would have to set a trap for mega-deli. As delibirds are often found pulling gifts out from their tails, they are also just as often stuffing things into them. Therefore, the best way to track or trap a delibird is with a gift. Unfortunately, in my haste to chase the stantler, I forgot to take one of my leftover christmas gift boxes, so instead I am trying to tie some fresh spring shoots in a neat way around one of my granola bars, in order to make it look like a gift. It isn't going terribly well. I wasn't very good at wrapping presents, let alone wrapping the odd shape of a snack using random plants.

Off in the distance now I can see the stantler herd, grazing lightly. The stand on the new grass poking up through the snow in a sunny corner of a clearing. Gently, gently I must set this trap- I mustn't spook the herd, but I also need to make myself known to any delibird in the area. To do so, I use my delibird whistle. I've practiced it all winter long, and listen to the delibird cry on repeat in my room for an hour each night. My little brother doesn't appreciate the repetition, but Willow doesn't mind as the sound is out of her range of hearing these days. The whistle made the stantlers' ears prick up, but I tried to think calming thoughts and stand very still. They didn't run away.

Alas, no delibird emerged from within the herd. Perhaps it is already too late in the winter for those precious mysteries to be solved.
I ate my granola bar.
I'll get the mega-deli next year.