Through the Eyes of a Flareon [PG] (Chapter 31 FINALLY up)

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Seventeen: A Tour

“Do you know him?” wondered a raticate. Her huge teeth were concealed inside her mouth as she eyed me curiously.

I stared into nothingness, looking at her, but...seeing straight through her. “...Yes,” I stated after silence, unhappy and my displeasure on display. I clenched my teeth, both reluctant and disbelieving. This was going to break my heart.

I saw the scyther who was a tiny bit darker green than usual move from the corner of my eye, and it looked as if he was about to say something, but he stopped himself as another pokémon spoke up. “Where was he?” asked the bellossom, and I barely made an effort to look at her to reply.

“On...um... On—on a ship.”

“Mummy...” began a rattata between the raticate who had spoken before and a male raticate, “what’s a ship?” The female normal type glanced down at her young one, but she gave him a look of uncertainty and unknowing.

“The ship,” began the scyther, Shard, “is a human transport.” He caught the eyes of many pokémon, including mine, and seemed comfortable with it.

Having had time or...whatever I needed to assess his detail properly since I’d seen him, I almost gasped. I hadn’t seen the left side of his body until I stared at it presently, scanning the many burn marks and faded scars that were scattered along his abdomen and thorax, as well as on his shoulder. It nearly shocked me; seeing such disturbing injuries made me think about what kind of fight he must have been involved in. It wasn’t often that I saw pokémon with long-residing injuries, so it made me wonder how he got them.

“It is a place for storage and a human’s way to carry whatever is being stored across a body of water.” He stood tall and knowledgeable as he spoke, obviously knowing what he was talking about. But while he spoke, I tilted my head. If all these other pokémon didn’t know, how come he did?

“Ooh. Why were you on that thing?” queried the heracross with a soft look, and I took a breath.

“...It was involuntary,” I mentioned quietly. My mind wound back as I eyed the ground. “All the pokémon on that ship were captured.”

A cluster of gasps rang throughout the group of pokémon, just as I had expected, and they exchanged concerned glances. Whispers floated between each of them, and I could hear scepticism trailing through some sentences.

“So you escaped,” stated the altaria bluntly, raising an eyebrow. It was as if she didn’t believe me.

I pierced her eyes with my serious expression. “Yes,” I answered, a solid quality to my tone.

“Well...what happened?” questioned a rather surprised and seemingly impatient sunflora.

I turned to him, twisting my head to a titled position. But before I could reply (if I was going to), a familiar face materialised at the end of the crowd. I nearly relaxed when I noticed who it was. “Leave her be,” she instructed, pokémon parting as she brushed along the path. “Upfront questions like this take time to be answered.”

“Zhol,” I whispered, grateful to be staring straight at her.

“Well, welcome back!” exclaimed a male raticate, scurrying forward and nodding as his eyes connected with that of the sneasel’s. His friendliness was warming, but the chill of my knowledge was not to be overcome.

Zhol bobbed her head, muttering, “Thanks,” and addressed me with her glance. I attempted a smile, but my muscles refused to be pulled, leaving my expression unchanged. The half dark type appeared before Habib, greeting the giant lickitung and his mate, who was beside Larse, with a curt bow. “We will give you a full report later.”

“Okay,” Habib agreed, looking less than expectant of the comment.

“Right now, Dusty needs some space.” She flashed a smile at me as I sighed inwardly with relief.

“Wait... What about Luck?” asked the scyther with a stern expression. I had to wonder how close he was to my ursaring friend, because he seemed keen to find out about him.

“Later,” persisted Zhol, her eyes widening as she said so. She tapped me with her hefty claws and signalled for me to follow her, and I rained one last look on the large group of pokémon gathered in front of me before turning and walking with the sneasel in the opposite direction.

“Th...thanks,” I muttered, managing half a smile of appreciation. “It’s hard...y’ know?”

“Mm,” nodded the sneasel understandingly, taking me past the end of a street of huts, the large lake and a home similarly built to one of the bidoof/bibarel’s lodges that was half in the water and half on land. I didn’t think much of it, as I was focused on Zhol.

“Where are we going?” I wondered, my ears folding back.

“I want to show you something,” explained the sneasel, stepping from Usster soil and through the gates of the forest. I followed across the border and padded beside her, noting the thick rocky wall to my right that surrounded the north and west sides of the land. Since the wall didn’t complete its half-lap around the premises, we were able to have just exited through the west.

We walked in silence for roughly a minute, the forest staying the same. Some things that stayed far from ‘the same’ were my thoughts. They whizzed, bounced and zipped around inside, prodding me and provoking the miserable feeling so abundant now that I was faced with a serious dilemma. Did I have to be the one to reveal the truth to everyone? Was it my burden to bear until dropping the bomb on everybody? And as unfair as it seemed, I reminded myself that there was nothing that seemed just in the past two or so weeks. It’d been one large boot up the backside.

“Dusty?” wondered Zhol, plucking me from my internal debate and placing me out in the open. I tuned in with a look. “I can listen...if you want me to.”

I smiled on the inside. “...Thanks, Zhol.” I was happy to see her smile back.

We proceeded forward, the calm but continuous pace repeating itself. I craned my neck at giant trees looming like guardians over their vast sanctuary, their limbs blocking paths but creating opportunities for homes and shelter at the same time. The flapping of wings sounded nearby, and my eyes followed a spearow who perched upon the edge of a nest in a forked branch. A worm dropped from her mouth and into the tiny beak belonging to one of her chicks.

Suddenly my mind leaped back in time to the spot near that tall birch tree Izante had so easily bounded up. I remembered her ability to spring so very high, and balancing on those branches was something no leafeon could easily accomplish. She’d never done such a thing before me prior to that one moment...and somehow it bugged me. And those bizarre words she’d uttered—the thing that she said right before she jumped up those branches...

“Like a rocket...” I snapped my head to Zhol. “Like a rocket; like a rocket!” I babbled, capturing her gaze. Her eyes were as round as oran berries. “A rocket! You know... Rocket? Team Rocket? She was chanting!”

Zhol’s eyebrows climbed up her face, her mouth a small triangle below her nose. Clearly she had no idea what I was talking about. She kept quiet until she realised I was going to keep my eyes fixed on hers.

“Look,” I began, twirling around and leaping into a tree, thudding with a solid impact. With a groan I fell on my butt. “Ouch... That didn’t work...” I spun ‘round and weaved between tree trunks until I found one with branches somewhat close to the ground. I threw my glance over my shoulder to ensure Zhol was still in my space, and sure enough, she came to be behind me in moments. With a waggle of my tail-end and a spring in my step, I leapt, clambering clumsily onto a decently-sized branch. My front paws tried desperately to attain some form of grip as my back legs did the same, but they slipped uselessly. In the next heartbeat, I lay on my back, an upside down Zhol glaring with concern and perplexity. The shot of pain up my spine intensified as I rolled onto my paws again, standing up. “See?”

Her look was only magnified. “That you...fell?” she guessed.

“Exactly,” I sighed, sitting in front of her. “Normal trainers don’t train their pokémon in the art of tree climbing.” I hooked my bottom lip around my teeth, taking a second to think. I shook my head repetitively. “...Do you know what this means?” The sneasel shook her head slowly. “It means that she learnt that from someone other than her master. Someone like Team Rocket.” I wandered off in thought, Zhol trailing. “I bet Team Rocket has some sort of ability training the pokémon have to go through to make them stronger—otherwise there’d be no difference between them and ordinary trainer or wild pokémon.” I searched my mind for more examples, stumbling across a single simple one. “It must be how that Mr. Mime held up that barrier and light screen attack for so long! And it was really strong!” I whirled around. “Remember? Back on the ship? Zhol?”

“Y-yes,” she answered uncomfortably, and I could see that she was wondering where I was headed with all of this. “Dusty, what...”

I felt about to talk, but my teeth clicked together...and my jaws relaxed into a motionless state. I slumped my body against a tree, narrowly avoiding a splinter as I slid down to be seated. “She is a Rocket pokémon... I know she is...” My stare was aimless until it locked onto a flake of bark half buried in the taupe soil.

I barely noticed as Zhol came down to my level in a crouch. “...Who?” she asked in a simple tone, her eyes fixed on me.

My eyes swivelled after waiting for the right moment. An expression contorted with misery and disappointment radiated from my face before finding the dark and ice type’s gaze. “...Izante.”

***

A series of wing-beats echoed around, two pairs of talons seeping into the ground with a doomp. A dark bird-like pokémon shook himself off, glancing about. The curved feather bunch on his head swayed as the wind blew through his grey and white tail feathers. His orange and brown beak pointed towards his company, his frustration clouding his face of jagged white. His smallish eyes of brown and charcoal surveyed the area, spotting a swaying leaf and a fallen log. The undergrowth was plentiful and constantly flew and settled shortly after. A pidgey on watch hopped into her nest, a mouse scuttled for shelter under an arch of thick bark, and other than that, a few crickets hummed in the near distance. A warm light latched onto the staravia’s left wing from above and another breeze charged through to cause ruffling feathers. “Where on Earth are they?” huffed the flying type in a gruff voice. “They do understand we have other charges, I hope.”

“I think they’re new,” commented the second pokémon, her tone much softer. However, an indifferent edge to it was present. “They should be here soon.” She waddled with her coral-red legs to a branch a wing’s stretch above her head, tilting her sepia neck. The feathers bordering the tops of her eyes and resting on her head, which were the same colour as her legs, hung more freely as they dangled due to their unusual angle, and a curled pink beak directed orange eyes to an empty home of bent twigs. “Pidgey,” stated the flying type, a short-feathered bird pokémon showing herself after a moment of hesitation. She side-stepped from behind the cluster of leaves she was previously peeking through and bounced onto her nest’s edge, puffing up protectively. “Have you seen a small group of pokémon pass through here?” she asked in a mellow manner. Her deep pink and yellow fan of a tail swayed gently while her yellow-tinted cream underside rose and fell subtly, all signs of a threat absent.

In seeing this, the flying type flattened her coat slightly and eyed the bird duo. After another session of analysis, the pidgey stepped into her nest and made herself comfortable. “Why, no. No, I have not.”
“Damn it!” cursed the starling pokémon, pounding the air with his wings.

The startled pidgey retreated into herself suddenly, squeaking with unsureness.

“Stop it!” chirped the pidgeotto, her stern expression slicing into the staravia’s behaviour and temporarily removing any trace of choleric attitude. She returned her glance to a member of her pre-evolutionary species. “Pay him no attention,” she requested, noticing the pidgey had no positive reaction. “Thank you.” She glided in the opposite direction, her partner following, and once they were no longer within earshot of the pidgey, the pidgeotto landed, whipping around to end up face to face with the male bird pokémon. “You fool!” she screeched. “What’s the good of scaring off the locals when we’re not supposed to bother them? He can’t build a successful empire when no pokémon will want to oblige! If they all think like that pidgey, they will know him as irrational and frightening, and likely disagree with him!”

The staravia just snorted. “Let them cower! Who cares?”

“He does,” hissed the bird pokémon, her voice hushed and her watchful eye frantic as if she expected someone to leap at her and tear her to pieces.

“Hey, you,” an ominous voice rang, giving the flying duo a start. They glanced about, unable to detect anything with their eyes. The pidgeotto swallowed, sensing something nearby but still seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

The staravia and his partner were not expecting a togepi to step out of thin air and appear before them. A malicious grin crept onto his face, and he hopped to the side as his illuminated red irises glowed with excitement. Next an ivysaur hobbled from where the egg pokémon came, his timid expression not fully confident. He shook off, loose leaves falling from his body. His gait formed into a limp, blood creeping from where one of his claws was attached on his hind leg.

The last to become visible was a Mr. Mime, who side-stepped from behind his seemingly invisible wall. The navy blue hair sprouting from either side of his head was frayed and messy, and his glove-like hands were stained with brown and maroon. “Are you the messengers?” he questioned, a creepy tint to his tone.

“Y-yes,” confirmed the pidgeotto, her partner a bit too shocked to reply. “Wh—what’s your position?”

“Standing,” the togepi answered amusedly.

The staravia gathered himself and sneered with narrowed eyes at the small cream pokémon. “Get serious and cut the games.”

“That’s my job,” the Mr. Mime intervened, a neutral look about his face. “We’re in pursuit.” He looked down at the two pokémon beside him. “How far do you think, boys?”

“Um,” began the grass type, “three days...behind? I think?” he guessed, and received a generous nod of approval from the Mr. Mime. The dark-coloured bird pokémon didn’t look as impressed.

“Can you give a precise answer?” he growled, exhaling impatiently. But when the green pokémon didn’t say anything, he added, “Well? Ivysaur?”

“...M...my name—”

“No-one cares about your name in this biz, kid,” the grouch of a pokémon informed. “Now, can you give me an accurate position or not?”

“You could use a smile or two once in a while,” interrupted the tall white and pink pokémon, something off about his general vibe.

The staravia was moderately confused at the remark and merely drew his head back in slight disgust. “...What?” he mumbled to his partner, and she shrugged, clearly unfazed by it.

The ivysaur glanced helplessly to the pidgeotto and then back to the barrier pokémon beside him. “Th...three days,” he decided on his own. “If...if we hurry, we can catch up soon.”

“Good,” the female flying type nodded, extending a wing out in front of her colleague. “We will report back to headquarters with your status.” She made a head gesture before taking to the skies with the staravia, their multicoloured tails soaring with the wind as they used the current to their advantage.

“...Messengers are so stupid,” commented the foot-tall normal type. He chuckled and took a seat to rest his sore feet.

“Funny,” grinned the Mr. Mime toothily, his creepy gaze meeting that of the togepi’s, “I’ve never liked them either.”

The togepi smirked, rolling backwards and into a stalk strong enough to prop him up. “At least we’ll get what we came for soon.” He gave an open yawn. “I’m looking forward to it.”

***

I had barely talked for a few minutes before a call echoed, a name bouncing between tree trunks. “Zhol!” We both flung ourselves up and waited until a tall figure invaded my vision. “You need to—”

As if having forgotten Zhol had walked off with me about five minutes before, the scyther shot understated daggers into my eyes. “Ouch,” I mumbled to myself, surprised with how harsh this pokémon was. He was probably suspicious of me, though, because I was new and unknown. I experienced a moment of reasoning before shrugging.

“Habib would like to see you,” he continued, keeping his scythes suspended at his waist. I hadn’t seen scyther very often, so I wasn’t sure where they normally held their sword-like arms, but where they were on this dude sure did look defensive to me.

The sneasel turned to me, tilting her head. “Yeah, I’ll come,” I decided, and she perked up before striding in the direction of the colony. I noticed Shard hesitate a moment longer before zipping in front. With a sidewards mouth, I pulled myself towards Zhol and followed her through the bracken. “Does this mean you won’t get to show me whatever it was you...wanted to show me?”

“It’s fine,” she replied quickly. “I’ll show you to it later.”

Within no time we were back at the entrance to the colony’s grounds, and I waited a few minutes as Zhol vanished through the near doorway of Habib’s home. I had been unsure whether or not I really wanted to re-enter the colony’s land. ‘I have nothing else to do and nowhere else to go,’ I admitted to myself hopelessly, knowing that initiating a search for my trainer at this point was useless for multiple reasons. But another Luck question and I decided that I’d disappear again. I just don’t know how I would take it. It was so tough to lose a friend. And even tougher to have to break the news to a bunch of pokémon who were closely acquainted with the same pokémon, and who, on top of that, knew him for a much broader duration of time... It was bad enough watching him fall to the deathly depths below the ship’s edge, and having to retell the information to someone who would react in a manner similar to how I reacted just made it so unfair. I knew it was my responsibility to reveal the horrible news. I just didn’t want it to be.

“Flareon!” demanded a somewhat gravelly but annoyingly-pitched voice. My gaze presented me with a stout pokémon whose head was masked nearly entirely by a skull. The object he clutched within his paw that was directed in a straight line right at me was also a bone, and I began to wonder how cubone get to obtain their precious external body parts. “Come here.” I didn’t fancy taking orders from a little squirt such as himself, and what bugged me even more was the fact that he seemed to believe he had disturbingly high authority. I trotted reluctantly in his direction, the only real reason I obeyed being that Zhol took her place beside him as they conversed, and when I arrived, I snatched their last few words about some sort of ‘tour’. “Hi, Zhol.” I turned to the cubone only when he cleared his throat. “Oh...hi.”

“Yes, greetings,” he hastily muttered, completely uninterested in me. I wasn’t fazed though. Not like I cared who he was.

“Dusty,” Zhol began, and my attention was completely drawn to her.

“Yes, Zhol?” I responded overenthusiastically, nearing her suddenly. “My very helpful friend who I value greatly—what is it you want to inquire? A request? Would you like to...inform me of something?” I spun around, and for no reason twirled, turning back. “Enlighten me with your words oh-so-wise, friend! My ears welcome your words.”

The sneasel’s face was clouded with nothing but bewilderment as she stared, and the cubone just eyed me with disgust mingled with confusion. Silence increased our distance and began playing with my fur until I sighed and sent it scurrying off.

“Yes, I’m that strange. Anyway,” I continued, adjusting my tongue and sweeping the ground with my tail. “You were saying?”

“U-uhh...” Zhol glanced to her left at the cubone, then back to me. “Habib thinks that a tour would be a good idea for you,” she explained, and I nodded understandingly. A tour sounded good to me!

“Alright.” I took a breath, a smile crossing my face. “Okay! So where are you taking me first?” I inquired.
The two pokémon exchanged a silent sentence during their little eye contact session which I was completely excluded from, and before I could say anything, Zhol cleared her throat, her gaze choosing the ground before me. “Well...to get you accustomed to living with the other residents of the colony, he thought that...someone else could take you.”

“Cupborn, you can call me,” the cubone insisted deliberately, “and I will be your guide.”

The awkward silence slipped between us once again, blushing and looking in the opposite direction so it, too, didn’t have to look the odd pause in the face. Our eyes flicked to one another, and I hardly knew what to think. I was just waiting for that convenient tumbleweed to roll right on by and trip up on a rock or two.
“This...is Dusty,” Zhol stated, holding out a paw in my direction.

“Zhol!” called the scyther suddenly from Habib’s home—which rested nearby.

“Coming,” the sneasel replied with less volume than the oversized bug had, and I blinked several times, finally realising she wouldn’t be accompanying me.

“W-wait! Zhol, where’re you going?”

“I’ve got to hunt with Shardclaw,” she informed, and my expression turned into a bitter sneer. She had to leave. Right now. I wasn’t exactly in the best mood, having just talked about my best friend who, only days ago, betrayed me, and having just found out that I would be shown around my new home by a haughty ground type. He had to be a ground type!

“Come on, flareon,” pushed the marowak pre-evolution, but I snorted at him.

“Zhol! They shouldn’t expect you to hunt when you only just got back!”

“Well, they do,” the dark and ice type answered, shrugging. She turned to leave, but stopped herself in time to draw her face close to mine. With a slightly pleading but amused look, she added, “And, Dusty... Play nice,” before she left in a blur that was no more than a dark figure zipping across the dirt.

“Was that supposed to be advice?” I asked myself, chuckling through my nose.

“Flareon!” snapped the small, brown pokémon.

“What?!” I snapped right back.

He narrowed his eyes and drew backwards. “We don’t have all day,” he growled.

“Thanks for the info,” I remarked with sarcasm that evidently stung. I trotted past him, watching as what I could see of his face grew a reddish tinge. It made me smirk.

“Immature fire type,” Cupborn uttered under his breath—but clearly too loudly.

“Over-confident cubone,” I retorted. Boy, it felt good to play his game.

“Shut up and follow me.” The agitated pokémon marched past me, and I rolled my eyes as I trailed.

My head hung as my tuft masked part of my face. My shoulders protruded with every step that pressed my paws against the ground, my tail hanging feebly. I wore embarrassment on my forehead as I passed a sunflora carrying hay walking ahead of one of the raticate who spoke to me earlier. Although the rat-like pokémon nodded as a friendly gesture, I could only wince half-heartedly in return and hope it looked somewhat comfortable.

“Greech; Hyso,” my tour guide named clearly (in the order I saw them, I imagine). He led me down and in the direction of that lake I avoided before, but he turned so the water was behind us. As I padded, I glanced ahead, noticing a vast plain where the pokémon had gathered to greet Larse. The fruit shed where I had crashed and woken up in not long ago was across the other side, near many trees. However, before we came near it, Cupborn halted abruptly and faced me. “This is the Den Row.”

After scowling as I nearly thudded into him, I threw my glance down the wide path to my left that bore assorted pokémon all with assorted intentions. There were only about five, but they were almost all of a different species. To both sides of the path were homes of different sizes and builds. Some resembled ones I saw back at the bibarel colony, and others looked totally different. I imagined that they were built with the type of the pokémon whose home it was in mind. For instance, normal and flying types would probably need more insulation than ice or fire types when it came to the cold; fire, rock and ground pokémon would have thicker rooves in case of rain, and so on. But I hadn’t ever seen a colony like this one which actually had houses. They greatly reminded me of human houses, although much less refined, and I’d always thought most wild pokémon (or from what I’d seen, anyway) would live in simple dens, hollows or nests. Turned out I was wrong.

He pointed out that to our right was the home belonging to Hyso and his family, and the one that started further up but on the left was where Greech and his family lived. Back to the right side again, nearly in line with Greech and his family’s house, was apparently a home which ‘Rentana’ and ‘Etire’ occupied...whoever they were. As we went on, he pointed out his house, and houses belonging to other assorted pokémon with random names.

I tuned out as I marvelled at the largest house of them all...which didn’t look much like a house. On ‘Den Row,’ I counted five homes in total running up the left side, and behind the two furthest away lay a rather big building. It appeared to have the strongest tree trunks and slabs of stone sewn into the walls, and by the looks of the outside, it had no windows...or entrances. Its west and north walls were not built, as they were instead the thick rock that bordered the west and north ends of the colony’s land. Once the left and right sides of the houses met at the end of the path where two connected dens sat, that was as far as the homes reached. Behind the connected dens was that stretching rock that continued off to the side, past a dense patch of trees which separated about a third of the colony’s land from the rest of it. I was in the larger part, from what I’d glimpsed, and the side containing the busiest pokémon and structures.

“Zhol,” he pointed out once we’d ventured to the end of the path. The homes this far up surrounded a small waterhole that stretched to my left, under someone’s hut, and onward under the huge building I had noticed before, the one with no windows. Zhol’s was one up from the house with the trail of water snaking underneath, and to the right of it, my right, was the direction Cupborn pointed his bone. “Aemara, her clinic, Tarla.” He began going down the right side now, mentioning who lived in the three homes before he would have repeated to tell me where ‘Renta’...or something...and Et...something lived—an early house mentioned on the tour.

“Uh-huh.” I blurted flatly. I threw him a look with my eyelids at half-mast. “You know I’m not gonna remember all this, or any of this, right?”

“Follow me through here,” he demanded without so much as a grunt in reply beforehand.

We walked back around the waterhole to brush between two homes on the right strip, leaving the large half of the land behind, and excused ourselves past some random trees, walking alongside the north rock bordering the territory and heading east, before edging the start of a sort of long grove of trees. They stretched on behind the right side of houses and then dipped in and stood guard at the entrance side of the fruit shack. Not that all this was important or anything. We avoided the trees, coming closer to the bordering rocky wall, but in front of it sat another two homes. One had been slightly out of my general line of sight where we had been standing previously (next to the waterhole), so I was almost surprised to see that, but the bigger one, which popped up right as we left the waterhole, was totally visible the whole time.

The cubone released three names, and then moved on to the one next door (with its entrance dipped into the trees). “This hut belongs to Yukra and Mosst,” he told me, as if expecting me to know who those pokémon were, and suddenly break out with an acknowledging noise which would tell him I just recalled their entire pasts and could present them to him on a silver platter.

‘This guy is unbelievable,’ I thought with a sour twist, huffing inwardly. But I went over the name, remembering that the heracross had been called ‘Yukra’ when he opened Habib’s door for him. “Ohh,” I muttered, a certain acknowledging tone to it. I then paused. ‘Huh. This guy’s good,’ I thought with a laugh.

We rounded the back of the house, and I tried to walk on my hind paws in order to see through a dislodged part of a log. I had no luck, my front paws thudding onto the earth. “Stupid...inconvenient...incapacitated...legs !” After passing the short side of the long stream of forest material, another site scurried into view. A rather...long and unexpected one.

A playground. A log that was propped onto a specially-carved stump creaked endlessly as a duo of pokémon – one on each end – weighed down one side at a time. As I was led towards it, I spotted mankey bars made from strong branches and tied together with what looked like rope, and other climbing structures of similar materials. A section of the playground was fenced off to hold a smallish pool barely my height in depth, and in a corner at the other end was a pit containing gritty sand.

Other features were incorporated into the long space in the land, but I became side-tracked as a large figure emerged from the home that resided a few metres from the long side of the playground (the one that didn’t have the random tree expanse behind it). “This den belongs to Wynore, Bibi and Luck,” explained the cubone up-front, and I flinched, a spike tearing through my stomach and twisting three times. I then identified the newly-appeared figure, and I couldn’t help but tense up for more than one reason upon seeing the apparent ursaring invade my line of sight. I hesitated in following Cupborn as he neared and looked about to greet her. “Come on, flareon!”

“Dusty,” I replied bitterly, keeping my head low and my body alert as I padded up by his side.

The female ursaring eyed me warily as I did the same, but our staring contest was interrupted. “Wynore, Flar—”

“Dusty!”

“...Wynore,” he restated, glaring at me. “She runs the kindergarten. Or, more respectively, daycare.”

‘They have a daycare here?’ I wondered, not expecting something like that. “H...hi.”

“We have met,” Wynore uttered to Cupborn, taking her eyes from mine. “Nice...to meet you,” she admitted awkwardly.

“Yeah...you too,” I replied, discomfort wagging its tail in my face.

“Wynore!” someone from inside the house called, and soon a dirty-cream coloured slender pokémon loped from the entrance and landed behind the ursaring. “...Oh.” Her gaze touched on my face before fixing itself on the cubone beside me. “Company!” she sung, her bright blue eyes a nice change of atmosphere.
“I’m Dusty,” I introduced, wearing a smile while hoping she’d reflect it. However, there was nothing to hope for as I realised she already was.

The brown-striped pokémon sat down on her hind legs, her form becoming much taller and still as sleek. Her front leg with two noticeable claws on it came up to rest on her front as she said, “That is a lovely name. Mine is Mynk.”

“Tha—” Suddenly I noticed something—something I should have picked up on the moment she bounded from the shack. Her head was uneven. And in saying that, I meant...she only had one ear. The left one was less than a stump. It was as if something had sliced through its base and left not a trace of one ever being there...except for the minimally exposed but completely healed skin with a thin layer of fur covering it. By the looks of it, it had happened a long time ago. So, not focusing my energy on something so distracting, my eyes returned to hers. “That’s a...nice...name too.”

“Thank you.” She swivelled her head and addressed the other normal type, and I drew a sigh. She hadn’t noticed I had been staring at her missing ear. If one of mine was gone, I’d hate to have others watch it intently too, as if they were trying to work out the mystery behind it when I could so easily just tell them.
“Moving on,” the cubone began, plodding back in the direction we came.

“Oh, see you, Cubbs!” Mynk began waving a paw, the ground type freezing on the spot and whirling around immediately.

“Cubbs?!” he spat, hardly believing what he heard. “Where did you hear that stupid nickname?” he demanded, marching forward several paces to meet the linoone’s nose. “Tell me!”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” she apologised, her tone shrinking in volume. “I wasn’t aware that—”

“Just tell me why you called me that,” he growled, clenching his bone tighter.

“Hey, would you calm down?” I requested, squeezing between the two pokémon. “She was just having a play around.”

“I don’t have time for playing around,” snapped the clearly-grumpy tour guide. He almost stabbed his eyes back into Mynk’s before I intervened once more.

“Give ‘er some space! Sheesh!”

“Dusty.” I was quick to meet her. “...It’s...it’s okay,” the normal type reassured, and I cocked my head. It was? “Yukra and I were discussing everybody’s roles, and—”

“Yukra?!” exclaimed the marowak pre-evolution, resentment flooding his tone. I nearly chuckled.

Without warning, the adorable, innocent little teddiursa I had seen not long ago peered at us from inside the doorway of the permanently split-up family’s house, her tiny paws gripping the wood. “Mummy?”

“C-coming, Bibi,” Wynore stated, barely excusing herself before she swept up her child and disappeared inside the home. In the meantime, Cupborn was seething as he stomped back and forth, muttering indecipherable words under his breath as he apparently forgot about my tour.

“Cubbs...‘ey?” I whispered amusedly into, embarrassingly, the non-ear-holding side of Mynk’s noggin. I heard her blow a chuckle through her nostrils as she shrunk to my height.

“...I guess he doesn’t take unauthorised nicknames well,” she theorised, and I nodded.

“I gathered that too!” I exclaimed, meaning to sound silly.

“Mummy!” The sound of a small pokémon yelping caught my attention, and I rotated my head into the direction it came from. A tiny asparagus coloured head appeared behind two of many beams of wood: the fence around the daycare. Small paws rested on the bottom railing, which was waist-height for the pokémon.

“Oh, excuse me,” the linoone quickly uttered, loping to the fence with needless effort. She peered over it once on her hind legs, resting her forelegs on to top beam. The small pokémon below her stared up with red triangle eyes, black marks coming to a point right below them. A long sort of spike with a red tip was planted on the creature’s head, and a maroon belly held horizontal lines. Stubby arms reached pleadingly at Mynk’s looming form, and the normal type dipped her head for it to be held in the green pokémon’s embrace.

“...‘Mummy’?” I whispered disbelievingly, rather perplexed. Mynk was the evolutionary species of a zigzagoon. And a larvitar was claiming to be her daughter? “Is that even possible?” I wondered in an awkward giggle. My gaze jumped about restlessly as I searched for somewhere to look, and Cupborn happened to fall into my sight. However, he was...leaving. For some odd reason, the cubone was waddling with stiff arms around the trees, slowly becoming smaller as he gained more distance. “C-Cupborn!” I yelled, taking a step forward with my left leg. He continued stomping for about a metre more before turning and causing me to dodge the spears his enraged eyes spat. I shook off, opening my mouth again. “Where are you going? Aren’t we gonna finish—”


“There’s nothing else I need to show you!” boomed the cubone, and I was taken slightly aback. He then whipped himself around and disappeared behind the trees.

“...Fine,” I mumbled, trotting over to Mynk. At least she was showing some manners.

“Dusty,” she said after noticing me. I stopped and responded. “Can you please watch the pokémon for a moment? I need to get something; I’ll only be a minute!”

A frown stroked my face and ran off, and I blinked a few times in a row. “Uh...o...kay?”

“Thank you,” she mentioned, placing a paw on my shoulder before dashing into the vegetation collection.
I faced the long, rectangle playground, flashing a glance up and down it. At least twelve or so pokémon frolicked about, throwing things, racing, climbing, blabbering, rolling, digging, swimming, gliding and wearing grins that should by all rights not fit on their faces. Some sat in groups and others sat in pairs or by themselves. I caught sight of a lone scrawny charmander placed in a corner to my right where the grass grew tall. Surprisingly her tail flame avoided all contact with any plantation, but at the same time, it seemed unlikely anyway considering how dimly it burned. Her face was almost expressionless. Dare I say, it was...hollow. As if all positive emotion had been drained and stored in some hole mountains away. She stared at the dirt in a small mound before her body, her paws occasionally touching it and then recoiling, her eyes twitching as she did so. Her belly barely seemed to move, and a number of times I thought her oxygen flow had ceased. She also looked pale and unresponsive, especially as other pokémon rushed by her before prancing to the other end, where most of the toddlers played. I couldn’t take my eyes off her though... She was so...dull, so devoid of spirit; devoid of life.

I became distracted as rustling sounded and a pale figure emerged from the elongated grove, her slim body darting up to the fence beside me again. “I’m back!” Mynk announced, a half squashed fruit dropping from her mouth and into her upturned paw. She attempted to keep it balanced as she held it over the larvitar’s head. It fell unintentionally from the hopeless surface, and it splattered onto the ground in a heap. However, it wasn’t damaged more than it was in the first place, so the rock and ground type drew up the fruit and began nibbling on it.

“Welcome back,” I replied unenthusiastically and just a little too late. I cringed as I couldn’t help but focus back onto the fire type sitting so woefully on her own...

The linoone must have jumped on my train of thought as she followed where I directed my eyes. “...That’s Libbi.” I detected traces of sorrow and remorse flowing throughout Mynk’s words as she spoke, and I felt the exact same way. “She’s...a troubled pokémon. She, uh...doesn’t like to play with the other pokémon.”

“But...why?”

“She doesn’t let herself get close to anyone...”

“What’s...” I had to search for the right words before coming up with what I could find. “What’s wrong with her?”

Mynk shifted uncomfortably, glazing her tongue over her bottom lip. “She...she suffered a...very serious trauma only a number of months ago. As a result...she’s withdrawn and depressed.”

“Wow... But she’s so...young.”

“Yes...” I watched as the pokémon’s head lifted. “She was brought here by her guardian, a squirtle. The squirtle – Palue – explained to us what had happened to her.” Her head tilted, and soon she was eying the ground. And when she said nothing more, I gave the situation a small push, hoping to hear more.

“...Well...what happened?”

“Um...” began the normal type, meeting me again. “Her brother...drowned in a river right before her eyes.”

Suddenly a rush of needles tingled down my spine and through my legs, as if a gust of wind had just struck my insides. I swallowed my saliva. “W...what? He drowned?”

Mynk’s eyes squeezed tears, and they crept down her face as she tried to smile in the presence of her deemed child. “Yes.”

“Crap,” I breathed, my gaze fitting itself back to the space Libbi was huddled in. “The poor child.” My mind turned as I pictured several things: Luck and Roarake separately falling before they broke the ocean’s surface; my body in the clutches of a controlled armaldo, my lungs desperate for air; the leap of faith from the ship’s edge; coming close to tumbling off that cliff back at the bibarel colony... And finally, a helpless charmander child flailing wildly at the mercy of a ruthless river... I could only prey that he had become unconscious before he inhaled enough water to do the final deed...

“Mummy...you’re crying!” pointed out the larvitar, presenting a curious look as an outstretched paw fit between two beams and touched the linoone’s coat.

Mynk brought the back of a paw to her eyes and cleared them of the salty liquid. “It’s...it’s nothing, dear,” she lied, but I didn’t blame her. Had the small child understood what had been said, well...that would have been beyond awful.

I waited a moment before changing the subject, glancing at the larvitar still finishing off the berry. “So, uhh...” I shook my head, attempting to rid it of awful imagery and certain recent thoughts. “You and that larvitar...”
“Me!” cheered the adorable dual type with eyes full of glorious potential.

“Yes, you,” I giggled, turning back to Mynk. “Is she your...actual...?”

“Oh, n-no. Certainly not,” Mynk laughed, the sadness still raking her voice. She probably knew the larvitar wouldn’t have picked up on what I was getting at, so she seemed fine to talk about it in front of her. However, she rotated her body so she wasn’t talking in her child’s direction. “More than a year ago, a few Usster members were investigating a matter in the mountains,” she began, signalling to a snowy peak not far off. “In one of the more rocky areas...one of my friends found an egg leaning against a boulder. The group brought it back here, and I nursed it until it hatched...” She fit a paw through a gap in the railing, and then stroked the small pupitar pre-evolution’s head. A flicker of a soft smile flashed across the linoone’s face before disappearing. “I couldn’t take my eyes off her,” she reminisced, a sparkling light dancing between her marble-like eyes, “so I did the only thing I was thinking of at the time. I adopted her.”

“Oh,” I responded, thinking that made sense. “But...how could you be sure she didn’t have a mother?”

“Well...we can’t be sure,” the normal type answered. “...I always wondered why she was abandoned. And so recently, too.”

“Wait...what do you mean?”

“Miraculously...the egg was warm when they found her. But there was nobody around who could have owned her. They even waited some minutes to ensure they wouldn’t be unintentionally abducting her, but they knew they couldn’t wait too long at risk of letting the egg cool in the frigid climate.”

“Really?” I questioned, finding that convenient but...odd. “That is weird.”

“It was a major relief,” she corrected, her brow sinking to create a worried look. “If they had found her cold, then...well, th-then...”

“But it wasn’t,” I pressed, dipping my head to catch Mynk’s gaze.

We both said nothing as she gave a meek smile, nodding. “...It wasn’t.”

***

Mynk and I had left the kids with Wynore in charge after asking her to. She had accepted with haste, barely making eye contact and not bothering to share a proper conversation with me or my new linoone friend. After that, Mynk had led me around the other end of the long rows of trees, and we were in the midst of passing the fruit shack when she spoke up.

“She isn’t normally like that...” she explained, and I cocked my head, about to ask who. “Wynore...she’s not usually like that. At least, not when Lakane’s around.” At the mention of the ursaring, something pinched me and I flinched inwardly. “The poor thing... When he returns, she will be back to her normal self again, though,” she reasoned, and again came the source-less pain.

“Y-yeah...” I moaned quietly, feeling completely out of my comfort zone.

“Lakane is Wynore’s mate,” she continued, “but most of us call him Luck.”

“I-I know...” I felt my ears bend as we padded on. The secret was killing me. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it to myself. I didn’t want to keep it to myself, but more than that, I didn’t want to tell anyone else... Wynore would be this way forever, and their teddiursa would be permanently fatherless.

“Oh? You do?”

“Y-yes... I was on...I was with him when he...when he...” I held back my breathing, unable to complete my sentence.

“When he...disappeared?” asked the linoone.

“Uhh...yeah.”

“Really? I have never seen your face around these parts before,” she mused, looking as if she was searching her mind for memories or some clue as to how that made sense.

“We...knew each other...from places...” I stuttered, unsure of how to put it. She thought I meant when he vanished from the colony’s grounds, and I meant...when he disappeared into the waves and from the Earth’s face.

“Oh.”

“Look, I’ll—I’ll fill you all in later,” I offered, turning away and looking up ahead at the nearing homes.

“Alright,” agreed Mynk, completely satisfied. She didn’t seem inclined in any way to probe me for answers, which suited me fine! “How long are you staying for?”

“Me? Oh... Well...I was offered a place here for as long as I like, I think...”

“Oh! So you aren’t a visitor?”

“N-no. At least, I don’t think so!” I chuckled, trying to remember exactly what Habib had told me.

“Splendid!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “While you’re here, I can introduce you to the pokémon that live here.”

I nodded half-heartedly. “Sounds good.” And we said not another word to each other before we reached the first house on the right. I remembered who lived there: the raticate and his family.

“A family of raticate live here with their baby rattata,” mentioned Mynk, and I nodded. “Although, I imagine only Gigin is home right now. Taka was one of the rattata at the daycare, and Hyso is probably out hunting.”

‘Hunting?’ I though with confusion. “But...aren’t raticate herbivores?”

Mynk shook her head decisively. “No, they are omnivores.”

“Oh...really? All my life I thought they only ate seeds and vegetables.” I shrugged, figuring it was insignificant anyway.

“Haha, no. They enjoy both, as I imagine you would.”

“Yes...” I shifted my eyes on purpose. “I’m a real veggie lover.”

I smiled as Mynk giggled at my humour, and we entered the home leisurely. As we appeared in a large room, I glanced about. It was unlike what I expected: a large batch of hay that needed replacing lay piled to create a bed in the far right corner, and surprisingly, a human soft-toy lay outstretched in the middle. At some point in the left wall was a square space that held thick rocks with several small, unscathed logs. A removable log could be seen above it, where the ceiling was in the compartment, and I guessed that that was a section where the smoke would be let out through.

There were a few other things that barely interested me, and I payed no attention to them as a bronze figure stepped out from behind a wooden table (which was basically a slab of wood with stumps at all corners). She displayed a toothy grin after a wary expression once she noticed Mynk. “Hello, old friend,” she greeted, scampering on all fours up to us. “And...who are you?” She returned to her hind legs, sitting upright.

“This is Dusty,” the linoone answered for me, and to that Gigin bobbed her head.

“Hi,” I said with deliberate politeness; I was about to take a seat but changed my mind.

She nodded in return, her long tail sitting flat on the minimally padded floor.

“Dusty will be staying with us for a while,” Mynk mentioned, “so I thought I’d show her about.” She appeared happy, and then added, “And you’re first.”

“Well,” Gigin chuckled, “good to have you.” Next she invited us to come in properly and take a seat, and I did so, habitually curling my tail around one side of me.

As the two normal types began chatting, I glanced around the room, focusing on random things. I fiddled with my toes and must have looked cross-eyed as I watched my tuft, folding my brow over my eyes with amusement.

I hardly heard footsteps before I turned around to spot a body in the doorway. Two appendages hung from its head, and its blue body...be-became...visible... “Gigin, I got that hay you—”

The pokémon froze in the instant she saw me, and our expressions were the same as we stared intently. The small hessian sack in her mouth dropped, and she didn’t even flinch as it dropped to the floor. All else was erased from my sight as I kept my eyes in place. I heard the chatter cease, and the only sound became silence. I dared to breathe.

“...Azure?”

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Eighteen: Expedition Challenge

The whisper of her name was nearly silent, and I doubt anybody else heard.

She was speechless as she slowly bent down to find the opening of the sack with her mouth, her eyes staying fixed, and for one reason or another drew her neck back up. Her ears remained erect, mimicking mine, and we both continued our stare down.

“Dusty?” wondered Mynk, concern in her voice.

“Azure?” Gigin asked in much the same way, hopping forward to be level with me. When the eeveelution didn’t reply, the normal type lowered the front half of her body to catch Azure’s gaze.

The glaceon gave an acknowledging nod, keeping her gaze on me, and warily reached down to the sack. Her jaws separated and she took the opening in her mouth, tensing it to support the bag’s (light) weight. She then padded cautiously into the open room and placed the sack at one of the table’s legs, then backed up.

“Excuse me, girls,” Gigin began, trying to break our silent surprise. “Would you like something to drink?”

I didn’t remove my stare, but my mind went over a few things. “...Yeah, I would.” My tongue could do with the moistening.

“I’ll, uh...get the water,” offered the linoone, and she crept behind Azure after taking a bucket between her teeth and was out the door in a few moments. I knew she had become uncomfortable with the situation, and, well...I didn’t blame her.

Clinking and clanking sounded as Gigin must have been searching for something in the long gap in the wall along the bottom where I saw things stored not long before. I heard her scoff and sigh, and she waited a few seconds before popping up, and from the corner of my eye I saw her crawl forward until she stood up between us. “I will also be back,” she stated, and finished her crawl along the floor before disappearing through the exit.

We kept our eyes still. But her image was beginning to bore me, and I realised that using my eyes for communication wouldn’t get me the appropriate answers I sought. ‘But then again, what are the answers I want?’ I asked myself, filtering out two or three. I thought I’d begin with a simple one.

“What are you doing here?” we both questioned simultaneously. Then we blinked. I narrowed my eyes as if unable to believe that we had done that. Quickly I decided to tell her before she could sneak in another sentence.

“I’m living with this colony,” I answered blatantly. Had it been anyone else and I’m sure I would have replaced ‘living’ with something a little less intrusive.

“I...live with this colony,” Azure stated, and I drew my head back.

“Wh-what?” I must have been hearing things wrong. How could she live in the same colony I was invited to stay with? It was just...ludicrous!

“I said that I live here,” she repeated, and I rolled my eyes.

“I heard you, I just...” I turned away, figuring this had to be true. One chance at peace and it was suddenly foiled.

“Dusty,” she started, and I was surprised: it was the first time that I remember her calling me by my name. I answered with a flick of my head, and the expected complaining or rant was not what came out of her mouth next. “Back at the bibarel colony...” She held back contempt, and instead forced a calm expression to convince me of her words. “I meant to thank you.”

All of a sudden Hell froze over. Just like that. I blinked in succession, a bemused expression prodding my face. “Th-thank...me?” I mocked, hardly believing it when it came from my own mouth. Why on Earth would Azure want to thank me?

“...Yes,” she confessed, and I was rather impressed. It seemed she did understand the term ‘manners’ after all!

Rustling and pawsteps sounded as a duo of pokémon entered again, Mynk second, and the raticate held two bowls carved from some kind of glazed wood. She proceeded to place one under my nose and the other onto the tabletop. Mynk used her paws to angle the bucket while still holding the thin metal handle in her maw and released the water; it splashed clumsily all over my paws, and I made strange noises while shaking them off. The zigzagoon evolution apologised through gritted teeth and sincere eyes, and placed the bucket at a table stump.

“Ahh, doesn’t matter,” I murmured with a flat mouth.

My gaze flashed back to Azure to find her already staring at me, and Mynk must have noticed as she stepped in front of me and kept herself supported on her hind legs. “Perhaps we should...go to the next house?”

“Good idea,” input Gigin, and she gave the nod of her head before Mynk turned to Azure and nodded hers.

“We will be seeing you.” Mynk turned and padded on all-fours to the exit. She swivelled her head around, as if to ask if I was behind her, and I hesitated before meeting her tail. I gave one last look to Azure before we were captured by the sunlight bathing the village in its endearing warmth. With a turn of her head, Mynk’s eyes fell onto mine. “It...seemed like you knew Azure,” she mentioned with concern.

I breathed a sigh. “Yep-ah.” I flung my head back in front of me. “We’ve...met.” The linoone appeared content with the answer – or if she wasn’t she didn’t show it – and we continued up the ‘street’. However, feeling like I barely bothered to answer her question, I sighed. “You know how she’s been gone for...a while?”

“...Yes.”

“Well... I met her sometime during then.” I watched as Mynk’s face formed an incomprehensive expression. “She was captured...and I was too.”

I hardly got the response I expected when she stayed silent. I prodded her face with my eyes for a further explanation. “No, that can’t be.”

For the brief bundle of minutes I’d known this pokémon, of all things I hadn’t expected her to doubt me. “...Wadda ya mean?”

Realising her unwelcome appearance, Mynk softened her tone. “You see, Azure wasn’t gone for as long as Luck...or Larse...or Zhol. She said she went to visit someone, and we imagined she happened to find Larse on her journey home.”

I stopped. ‘Happened to?’ A question nearly slipped between my teeth before another one fell through. “Did she say who she went to visit?”

“...No, she didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

Mynk seemed confused. “Well...Habib provides us with plenty of freedom. I...suppose he doesn’t mind where we go, as long as we will be safe.”

“...Right,” I mumbled, unsure about my initial thoughts on the leader.

Mynk must have seen this in my expression and began her attempt to soothe my doubt. “He cares about every colony member a lot,” she reassured. “He and Ikari just try not to be restrictive.”

I figured Ikari must have been Habib’s mate, the slowking. “But...when I was talking to Habib earlier, he said there had been three members missing other than Larse. Zhol, Luck, Azure...”

“Before Larse arrived,” she began, quick to settle my mind, “we thought she might have gone missing too. But when she returned, she said nothing about capture, and Larse told us she met up with him; he never saw her on the ship.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Well...perhaps I was mistaken, then.”

“Yes—it must have been another glaceon that you met.”

I ducked my head to enter a second home after Mynk turned and brushed the tip of her tail through the bottom of an arch—the section that lacked wood. There was a short noise to signify we were welcome, and soon enough I was in the company of a stout, colourful bellossom. She danced from within tall grass which spread across most of the house, and bowed before us with undying grace.

“Welcome,” she lulled, connecting her gaze with mine before Mynk’s.

After learning that the bellossom’s name was Mio, and that her mate was called Greech, she told me about her son, an oddish called Ollie. He sounded cute...but agitating like most young pokémon. She seemed to love him with all her heart though, as mothers do, and I came to wonder what kind of a parent I would make. The thought didn’t linger as Mio offered us some food. “Sure!” I agreed, watching as she placed some berries on the floor. I snuffled up two before looking up at her. “Sho,” I began, my cheeks bulging, “you wan’...any o’ dese?”

She declined, calmly explaining that, being plant pokémon, her family mainly consumes water for their daily needs as well as a few rotten berries—and a “healthy dose of sunlight”. I agreed with the sunlight and berries, but surviving mainly on water? How distasteful!

We moved onto the houses up the stretch, sticking to the left row of houses, and passed Shard’s house before coming across Azure’s. I eyed it as we padded past, and the waterhole I previously saw appeared before me once more, and I felt as if I was on that tour all over again. Further left was a house with the waterhole’s inlet running through it, and I was told that a politoed called ‘Politoad’ occupied it. I gave a suspicious eye-narrowing, but it quickly vanished as we came to the one in the corner. Zhol’s. “I guess I’ll be staying here then,” I mentioned, and Mynk turned her head. “I came with her here, and since I’ve been allowed a place to stay, it’ll probably be with her since we know each other the most.”

Next to hers, on the right (and facing in towards the waterhole), was an adjoined home. My linoone friend led me through the first section (after doing that tail-swishing thing again) and as I stepped inside, my limbs seized up. It was freezing! A chilly wind whipped past me and blew my fur about the room (in a non-literal manner) as I dropped a flame onto my paws. With a small “ouch!” I regretted it instantly, and directed my focus to something else.

Mynk gave an innocent smile and gestured towards me. “This is Dusty.”

We tossed our gazes between each other like a bundle of hay as I was quick to recognise this pokémon. She was one of the three I had woken up to—the one whose species I was unknowing of. She looked me up and down before she showed a meek smile and hovered closer, whispering a greeting that she followed up with a voice-clearing. I didn’t know whether to jump back in surprise, having forgotten she could move without walking, or show friendliness back.

“H...hi,” I muttered, figuring that would do. Just as Mynk attempted to speak, I interrupted. “If... Well, what are you?” I stated blatantly. She didn’t seem offended in any way, but her eyes told me she was wary and conscious of my words.

“M-my species is froslass...” she stuttered back, and I searched my mind for the word, only to find nothing familiar. Instead I grunted in return.

“She runs the healing clinic,” Mynk mentioned with added enthusiasm, and I nodded.

“I see...” I murmured, glancing around. The place seemed pretty pristine and orderly (apart from all that less-than-appealing snow strewn across just about everything), but...similar to any other home. A bed (although this one was very snowy and reasonably thicker), a table-bench thing, a few stumps and...that was about it. However, my attention was drawn to an indent in the wall on the right. I realised it was, in fact, the connection to the room beside it, and a door sat in that indent. Curious, I continued to stare.

“This room is Aemara’s house; however, through there is where she helps us heal if we get injured or sick.” The linoone nodded her head to the door I’d been staring at, and I understood. After we left, we walked between Tarla (that altaria) and another pokémon’s home and continued until we reached another house—one outside Den Row. “This is where I live!” she told me ecstatically, bounding to the entrance. With a cheerful face and paws pointing through, she invited me in after swinging open the door.

I entered and suddenly I was swallowed by a multi-cultural home. It was a fair bit larger than most others I’d seen, but the same size as Mio’s. To the left of the room the floor from the middle to the back had been laid with stone and the walls were completely constructed of it. At first I couldn’t figure out why at first, and then I noticed the bed was not hay—it was a mound of dirt. One time while travelling with Master, I had met a monferno who belonged to a friendly trainer who chose to come with us for a number of days. On the contrary to when he was a chimchar, his flame didn’t burn out as he fell asleep, so in order to avoid setting things on fire, he slept amongst rock and grassless dirt—or, for even further convenience purposes, in his poké ball. I figured the charmander I saw before lived in the house, since she was the only fire type that I knew was part of the colony—and she didn’t have relatives.

The middle also had dirt and, for safety, the walls were stone as well. I assumed Mynk slept there, since next door, on the right, a bed of sand and moss stretched across a decent space, with a couple of rocks planted here and there. In the centre of the room, further toward the door, was a low-cut bench of wood surrounded by four stone stumps. The floor was, unlike the other huts I’d entered, nearly completely clean of vegetation. Which made sense, of course, given the type of a residing resident.

“How do you like it?” Mynk wondered, taking her place on a stone stump which seemed a bit small for her.

“It’s, uhh...interesting,” I admitted, although I did find it a tad insulting that a fire type had to sleep on a pile of dirt (which could surely put out the flame anyway...well, an ordinary flame), but Mynk did too, I guess.

She must have followed my gaze, because the emotion about her altered dramatically. I sensed her spirits descending before she told me, “When she arrived here...she needed somewhere to stay. I lived in one of the other homes, but when I offered to let her live with me, the stronger villagers constructed this home for us.” She looked down, reminiscing with a tad of sadness. “..She never fitted in.” She swallowed. “...She never talks; she barely eats...” Her face dropped. “I...I’ve never seen her happy... And I...I just wish there was more I could do for her... So I can see her...smile.”

I had no idea what to do at that point. I felt suddenly deflated, and my shoulders began to sag. I approached her and sat by her side, a stable look on my face. I knew she was appreciative, and she attempted a positive reaction, but her muscles refused to form a cheerful arrangement.

I stayed with her for at least half an hour before being collected by Cubbs and set between the many homes. I waited as Greech passed, disappearing into his home, and Gigin nodded to me once or twice as she scampered by a few times. I tossed my head about, wondering why I had been instructed to stand in the middle of a path. “...Remind me why I’m here again?” I demanded impatiently. My toes began to jiggle.

“Be patient,” replied the cubone with a stern frown. “You’ll be told soon.”

I sneered at him and dropped to my belly, my head between my paws as I blew a puff of dirt from the ground, beginning to think. ‘This colony is so different to what I imagined.’ My eyes bumped into the many homes surrounding me. ‘Huts made like human houses... Pokémon of all kinds... Orderly schedules... Each pokémon with their own responsibility...’ My mind ran in circles, chasing its tail. ‘It’s kinda peaceful... Not much drama...apart from the members who were pokénapped.’

I was due for a guilt trip regarding Luck again as crunching stones sounded behind me. I rose quicker than fire could melt a hail stone and swung myself around. I was pleasantly surprised as the slowking made her last steps in my direction before stopping, her face a mix of contentment and sheepishness. “It’s just me, dear,” she commented, laying her innocence down before me.

“Regards...Dame Ikari Slowking,” Cubbs stated, bowing. She seemed flattered.

“Please, Cupborn,” she began while he kept his head half-way, “I insist that, if you wish to call me that, call me ‘slowqueen’.”

“Less patronising?” I queried, figuring it made sense.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time...figuratively speaking.

I gave an acknowledging smile in return, looking about. Cupborn nodded to his ‘dame’. “...So why am I here?”

Ikari perked up. “Oh—sorry to keep you waiting, dear!” she chuckled, approaching me as I craned my neck to view her properly. “Our hunters not only hunt in the south, but also the east and west. Currently Zhol and Shardclaw are south of the colony, and there are parties ready to set out to the west and the east.” I tilted my head, wondering where she was going with this. “As your first duty for the colony...I’d like you to go with one to hunt.”

“Oh, crap,” I whispered scornfully. Quickly looking back to her, I issued an uneasy response consisting of groans and awkward expressions.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Uhh...it’s just that...” My paws shifted and I chewed my lip. I really didn’t know the second thing about hunting.

I was saved by a distraction as a small bunch of pokémon hustled into view. “We’re about to leave,” the altaria spoke, her tone informative rather than requesting. She stood proudly with a small, moss-coloured pokémon on her left. He was canine-like and had yellow streaks along his elongated head and a spike-like tail poking up from his behind. An electrike.

“Oh?” Ikari met her eyes. “Wonderful!”

“And us,” began another voice, and Hyso hopped up, the floatzel I glimpsed earlier following with a confident grin. “We were going to head west to the wide-river and hunt some fish.”

“Most certainly!” the orange pokémon agreed, and I felt like a sarcastic swing of the arm (or leg).

The slowki—queen set her gaze upon me, and I suddenly felt like the entire colony was watching. “Which party would you like to travel with?”

I glanced between the two groups. ‘Hmm...let’s see...’ Tarla silently dared me to follow with her menacing eye, and the small electrike, although cute, avoided my line of sight. ‘The snooty altaria overflowing with self-confidence and a shy electric type, or the seemingly friendly water type going fishing with a placid looking raticate partner...’ The choice was an easy one, and the answer tickled my claws as I began to reply. “I pick—”

My question was interrupted as a patter of feet scattered across the ground and three figures materialised before us. One, tall and broad, looked down upon me with alarmed eyes which quickly returned to wary; another, a short pokémon, looked slightly emotionless but at the same time happy. The latter grew a smile.

“Zhol!” I exclaimed, nearly leaping onto her with excitement. I felt my tail sway and my body strengthen. It hadn’t been long, but it was weird to go for a measurable time without her.

“Hi, Dusty!” she replied mildly enthusiastically, revealing the third pokémon—a bite-sized pink pokémon with blue polka-dots – or, as I liked to call them, poké-dots – spread out over his skin. A scrunched face appeared disappointed as the snubbull addressed everyone with a flash of his eyes and shyly hobbled down the centre of the path and between us all, in the direction of the waterhole.

“Who’s the cutie?” I asked the sneasel amusedly, finding the young pokémon ugly and adorable at the same time.

“He’s a granbull’s son—Hunter.” She drew the slowqueen’s attention and mentioned, as the scyther pushed by, “He was injured, so we returned to get his wounds treated.”

Ikari nodded, and with her eyes she followed Shardclaw walking beside the normal type, guiding him closer to the clinic. “It was good you thought to do so.” She passed Zhol a supportive smile.

“Oh—Ikari?” I began, stepping forward. By the looks of things, she wasn’t aware I knew her name. “Can I go with Zhol? She’s a great teacher! I—I mean...of the surroundings. Teaching me about the trees and...plants, and...general landscape.” I cleared my throat uncomfortably, my speech beginning to quicken. “You know.”

Zhol tilted her head as Ikari thought my request over. “...That would be fine,” she answered, and I cheered, pouncing onto my dark and ice type friend and knocking her to the ground. She nearly speared me with her claws as an automatic reaction, but instead held back her giggles and disapproval, shoving me to one side.

“If you all don’t mind, could you and Shardclaw take Dusty to the east, so Tarla and Doltei can search the area you were hunting in?” Ikari wondered, and I found it interesting that she asked for clearance before making the orders.

Zhol seemed indifferent. “I don’t mind.”

With a shrug, Hyso and the floatzel scurried down towards where Zhol was taking me earlier, through the west exit, and Tarla huffed, turning to the electrike. She muttered something and took wing, grasping him in her talons and soaring in the opposite direction to the huts—where Zhol and Shardclaw had come.

“So... We will be going with Shardclaw, then?” I questioned with a string of displeasure dangling from my tone.

“...Yes,” the sneasel confirmed, and I groaned inwardly. I so didn’t want to travel with him.

***

Why did Azure lie about her whereabouts? “It must have been another glaceon that you met.” I’m not an idiot. ...Well...maybe I am sometimes, but Raiys introduced her to me as Azure. I know it was her. The question now was, as I had been wondering, why didn’t she tell anyone she was pokénapped? Was she ashamed or embarrassed about it? Did she tell someone who wasn’t Mynk? It didn’t make much sense. Or, as an old friend and I used to say, it made anti-sense.

A twig slipped between two of my toes and stabbed my skin. “OUCH!” I yelped with a scowl, angry that it would so rudely interrupt my thinking. I spat a flame onto it, and a thin trail of smoke lifted, snaking sneakily into the sky. I noticed that Shard’s eyes grew as large as Cubbs’ thick skull and he snapped at me to extinguish it. With a mutter of annoyance I stamped it out, and Zhol threw me a particular look. It was a look of expectance: I should get used to being bossed around by this overgrown bug type. “Heh, we’ll see...” The trees ushered us further into the forest as the path became rockier, and soon we were leaping up small hills and eddying around the occasional boulder. As I remembered the question regarding Azure, I turned to my sneasel friend. “Hey,” I started, and she met my gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me Azure was a colony member?”

The sneasel seemed to ponder as she looked skyward before back to me. “You didn’t ask me.”

“Yeah, but I mentioned her before we got here... And it was like you didn’t know who she was at all.”

“Azure has...not been staying with us long. We are unacquainted,” she mused, and I could see her digging through her thoughts.

“Right...” I jumped a rock my size (and nearly snagged a foot on its point). “Do you know where she came from?”

The sneasel shook her head, and I frowned, facing forward once more. As I glanced over my shoulder, the scyther acted as if he hadn’t been staring at – or ‘checking on’ – me while I’d been talking to Zhol, and that only made my frown marks deepen. He was beginning to get on my nerves, and pretending wasn’t going to stop me from wanting to tackle him down and interrogate him.

My attention was shifted as a slope appeared to the left, obscuring the sharp and tricky stalagmites which had been spiking that path near when we began, and it rose fast before it was soon a looming wall of rock. A path wound up it further on, and on its level was what looked like more grass. The grass where we were was thinning out, and mainly in clumps. The trees were changing to become harsher and ahead in the far distance I could glimpse a barren land stretching further with each ledge and giant stone.

Zhol made a subtle edge towards the slope which tore through the wall, and soon enough we were elevating and onto grass once more, turning to the left. The path now stretched to the north, rather than the east, and it felt odd, since right next door was a desert-like land. However, I went with the flow, and the literal sound of flowing trickled into my ears, drowning my hearing in a rushing current not far off. “You guys gonna fish?” I asked, but really I should have directed the question to Zhol and Zhol only. It’s not like the scyther would reply.

“Oktau and Hyso are responsible for fish,” she told me, and I made an effort to thank her for her answer before padding on by the wall which continued in this direction.

Rustling hustled to my ears before I assumed a ready stance and locked my sights on a tree just begging me to hunt its inhabitants. A feathery tail poked through a break between the leaves, and my heart began leaping. “This is so mine,” I claimed, narrowing my eyes.

My friend hardly seemed interested in upstaging me. “...I’ll check if the river can be crossed easily,” she mentioned, and I nodded, trying to concentrate.

As the sneasel rushed off, I crouched with my tail end to the rock and I attempted to recall what I had seen her do when she hunted. Although...fishing was what I watched her to, and with that she merely used her hefty claws to take aim and then stab the suckers. Though I didn’t think that technique would be so effective in a situation like this, where the prey was in the air rather than being submerged. Taking my chances, I decided to stick with my instincts and wing it (here’s where one would groan at my humour)! I took off, having a better result than the last tree I tried to climb up, and the branch caught me with the many extra limbs growing from it in several places. I scrambled onto it and managed to balance after steadying myself, and then I readied myself once more and leapt onto an easier branch above. Once stable, I flashed a sly grin to Shard, who was watching with what...could have been worry.

I crouched, my belly fur brushing against the bark, and my shoulders reached for the sky as I crept along, meeting the trunk. I hoisted myself up to have two front paws against it and my hind legs were swarmed with weight. Saliva began flooding my mouth as I watched as, above, a number of spearow squawked at the sight of me and my hungry eyes.

Much to my surprise, I was jumped by one as he dove down and swooped, nearly slicing my eye. I shrieked and dipped my head, my tuft blowing back as the wind weaved between each strand. My paws nearly slipped as he wheeled around and tried again, but this time he skimmed my ear with a wing attack, and a soft throbbing began at its tip. As he repeated the action and neared me for a third time, I scarcely aimed before firing a stream of flamethrower, but the bird pokémon was unexpectedly agile and evaded the attack with a feather to spare. I screeched as he landed a successful gust attack, and I was blown hopelessly off balance, clawing at the bough for safety. Apparently the forest was mocking me as I failed to get a grip and tumbled onto the bough below and continued to the ground with a pain-induced wail.

In no time I felt a rush of wind and the flash of metal as I blinked out the pain and weakly turned my head. I couldn’t breathe as a result of being winded as I witnessed Shard race past me, take to the air and then flutter his way to the branch that threw me off. His claws dug into the bark and he raised his weapon-arms and must have been satisfied as the spearow screeched and reeled back, zooming to the nest he originated in.

I finally inhaled the much needed air surrounding me, and my chest heaved as I got to my paws and felt a large presence looming over me. I panted, twisting my head to see a scyther clenching his jaw. As much as I didn’t want to, I thanked him. It was horribly embarrassing to have nearly been beaten by a meagre spearow, but all the while, I was relieved it had been scared off before it did any more...damage...

Shard muttered a reply, but after he realised it was barely audible, he cleared his throat and repeated, “You’re...welcome,” and slipped away. He only went a few paces before stopping again, and I wearily followed.

I realised the reason he stopped and did the same thing, noticing as a duo of tasty-looking young buneary hopped along one of the rock wall’s levels. I gave a sinister smile as I decided I liked what I saw. Turns out we both had the same thoughts as Shard took off and lifted into the air before landing soundlessly onto the edge of the level the normal types had been previously on. I flinched with a tang of jealousy as I bounded towards a pile of boulders and jutting ledges that were my pathway to landing next to him (not that he waited).

Following their tail-ends, I sprinted after them while making sure to keep clear of the edge to my right which came before a long drop. It wasn’t long before I was overtaken, and within a matter of seconds, Shard was skimming effortlessly across the rock in hot pursuit. I darted after him, avoiding any splits in the floor or jutting rocks along the way.

We slowly rose, and the wall next to us grew further away, so that our level was becoming wider. We both had more space to run, and the buneary had less space to hide.
In no time Shard’s scythes came down upon one as the other flew out of the way at the last second, and unfortunately for the buneary, it was cut down its leg. It howled and rolled into a boulder before becoming unconscious, and Shard took it upon himself to bite into its neck to stop its pulse. I, meanwhile, sped past the scyther with the second and rather distressed normal type in view, felt my stomach fizzle, and spat out a glob of purple goop. It splattered short of the prey, and I was left to jump over it at the last second. I scoffed, thinking it to be typical, and tried again. This time I aimed further ahead, and it landed half a metre in front of the buneary. I frowned again, thinking it to be typical, but when it skidded, lost its footing and began somersaulting, I lightened up.

“Score,” I whispered, dancing ‘round the puddle and ripping the buneary from the ground. But when it shrieked and struggled rather than flopping dead, I drew a sharp breath and adjusted my grip, biting down harder. Finally I felt the prey droop, and I grimaced, imagining how painful it must have been when I failed to extinguish hi—its life. Every time I identified a prey pokémon’s gender, it became more personal, just like if I had known their name. That made it harder to kill the prey and become driven of all remorse. Master used to tell me something every time I had given her a forlorn look:

“The food chain works in a certain way. Without the food, there is no chain; and without the chain, there’s no order of things. So don’t feel bad.”

My head hung from my shoulders. I...I really missed her. It’s...hard without her.

“Come on,” muttered Shard through the fluff of his catch, and I obeyed after shaking the sorrow from my mind. I was rather surprised he had spoken to me, but who was to say he was comfortable?

“Yeah...” I mused, following with a body swaying back and forth from my jaws. Suddenly a tremor made me blink. ‘A tremor?’ At first I thought it was my belly, but when it visibly shook our surroundings, I had two things to believe: my stomach knew the move earthquake, or something else did!

Rocks from above tumbled from the high-placed ledge, and images of being trapped beneath one or having my skull forced in two invaded my mind. I snapped out of it and leapt, missing one by a single hair.

“Shard!” I yelped, the scyther frozen with fear. Around him a shower of stone chipped the ground and landed a fang short of his body. “SHARD!” I screamed, but the scyther’s only reaction was his jaw giving way and the dead buneary falling like slop onto the rock. I cracked down on the prey in my mouth and jolted forward, forcing myself to race through a deadly cascade of rocks. The adrenaline awoke inside of me, and my leg muscles were prompted to boost me forward in a desperate attempt to protect my very life.

Unfortunately the normal type which would satisfy my belly later on added to the weight I needed to carry, and it was constantly banging against my front. I clenched my teeth tighter as I forced myself to release it, but I didn’t need reminding about how bad that choice was. In a tangle my paws intertwined and there was less than a second to spare as my face slid along the harsh surface, stones and grit embedding themselves into my skin. I cried out with shock, a strong stinging firing up around my muzzle and forehead.

The sound of shattering rock pierced my ears as shards attacked from my right, some sharp enough to lodge into my flesh and cause a considerable amount of pain. “Ahh!” I screeched, curling up and praying from the depths of my heart for Arceus to spare my soul allow me my life. As soon as it could my head flipped up, and my eyes fell to Shard. Another boulder was crashing down from above him, and the fool was merely standing with wide eyes! I pondered things for a moment before ramming my paws against the rock. Had I not sprung from my position then and there and Shard would have been squashed scyther fodder! I slammed into him, narrowly avoiding a slit leg, and he was strewn across the path in a clumsy daze. I tensed my muscles and braced myself, preparing for a sickening crunch and a lost leg, but to my eternal relief, the sound was one of rock on rock. “You owe me,” I remarked, but my mood was quickly knocked from me as I felt my wet face ring with pain once more, and I longed for it to stop.

Although I knew my limbs had survived, I was unable to jump away as a fierce tugging clawed at my rump. I was in a wicked panic as I whipped around and absorbed the sight of my trapped tail. I squealed with desperation, swiping at the ground as if it would lift the rock and make it roll off the edge, but to my horror the reality of the situation dawned on me.

I was stuck.

***

“Shard!” I yelped again, repeating his full name shortly after. This was insane! Why was he leaning on his back, propping himself with his scythes and merely staring wide-eyed at me?! He needed to intervene and help me already! “Come on!” I pleaded, my eyes frantic in their search for more descending death spheres that were anywhere near. I caught sight of another, and it rocked on the above edge before tilting and dropping with a thick whistling sound. It was headed straight for me, and my eyes forced tears within them as I bore holes into Shardclaw’s skull. “Help me!”

I heard the misleading shatter of the boulder, and I felt it bash into my spine, causing a shrill shriek to escape my maw. However, it took me longer than a moment to recognise that it wasn’t a full-sized rock that had struck me. In fact, it was a mere fragment, and the contact it made with me was more of a shock than painful. Confused at this, I flung my head skywards in time to witness a dark figure soar before landing, its back to me and its powerful claws hanging just short of the ground. This ‘it’ was certainly not genderless.

“Z...ZHOL!” I cried, gushing fluids of relief and happiness mingled with those caused by fear and doubt. “You saved my life!” She whirled around and barely skimmed my face before zipping to my side and hesitated before slicing through the boulder and releasing my tail. I was overwhelmed and strongly grateful, and I wanted to find Zhol all the prey in the world to drop at her feet and watch her indulge in.

“Keep moving,” she urged, and I flicked my head upward. My heart stabbed my chest as I saw more rocks targeting us and began plunging in our directions.

With a scream I attempted to dart away, but my right leg almost betrayed me as I remembered the shards in my side. I had no time to yank them out as a rock smashed in front of me, and my best attempt to shield my face was to halt and shove it down, and a spray of pieces pattered my ears. One portion struck my eye, although it was closed, and I scrunched up my face as thumping began pulsing through my head. With no other priority, I blindly raced on, temporarily forgetting anyone but myself, and finally I saw the end of the path—where it began dividing into ledges. “Yes,” I breathed, nearly doubting my heavenly vision. My paws carried me faster, if possible, and my want for time to speed up was overwhelming. The repeated action of legs pushing my body placed me only metres from escape and my eyes lit up. I felt free, and somehow so much lighter; it was easier to run!

Without warning a yellow figure swiped the stability from my paws and I landed flat on my belly a number of paces away. I barely had enough time to dodge a stone the size of a solrock as I scrambled for better footing, wandering dangerously close to the edge. A sandslash lowered her head and shot forward in my direction, and I gasped, leaping towards Zhol, who was diagonally to my right. She crashed into Shard and our mouths simultaneously scooped up rocks. I wasn’t even given a chance to apologise as a boulder flew down from the above ledge, bounced, and knocked Zhol clean off the cliff. “Zhol!” I screamed, and the dual type luckily slipped from the rock’s underside as the two slammed separately into the earth below. The sneasel had been hit while she didn’t expect it, and as a result she failed to land upright. When she made contact with the ground, she was pushed a few metres forward in the form of somersaults before halting beneath a tree.

Shard drew a sharp breath and heaved himself up, dashing past me and stopping midway between me and the sandslash. The spiked pokémon adopted an offensive position, a glint of anger and protective nature shimmering through her eyes. This struck me as odd, but I continued watching what Shard did once confirming the lack of boulders in my general vicinity. The two sharp pokémon stared each other down for only a second longer before a rock tumbled down, nearly directly heading for Shard. I narrowed my eyes and the scyther returned. I met his alert eyes and he seemed ready for something as I heard the patter of paws and clatter of claws against rock.

The sandshrew evolution burst through the fragments of the stone and sprinted our way, and impulsively Shard hooked his jaws around my mane. I was taken by complete surprise as his wings started beating a million miles per hour and my paws lifted from the rock. I was for once glad about the many knots weaved into my fur; however, clearly I was too heavy for his jaws alone to endure, and we descended quite quickly, tumbling across the ground once connecting with it. It was as if we had been spat from a giant mouth as we lay sprawled across dirt and grass shoots. I moaned and lifted myself up, my confused gaze being thrown about as I laid eyes on the sandslash. She watched intently from the top of the looming wall, and frankly I was intimidated!

Looking away to prevent angering her further, I dug through the air to find Zhol lying limp to my left. I scrambled to her side, nearly stumbling over my own paws, and held my head over her. She was bleeding in many places, notably both arms and her left cheek, and she seemed unable to move a leg very well. Her breathing was inconsistent and her eyelids pushed against one another, squeezing tears from underneath. I bit my lip, guilt jabbing my chest as I realised she was hit by the boulder on my account.

“Damn it,” I cursed, tearing from her as a clash met my ears. To my horror a gang of outsiders had surrounded Shard and were attacking one at a time, going for weaker parts such as his abdomen. “Hey!” I yelped, but immediately I regretted it. All four (plus Shard) thrust daggers in my side as they took note of me, and two split from the group and headed in my direction—fast. The two coming for me were a cubone and a numel, and somehow both were unexpectedly fast! The cubone spun a bone at me, and I shrieked, ducking. It flipped straight over my head, and unfortunately for the ground type, came to a halt as it thumped into the tree Zhol was resting under. And unfortunately for us, it dropped onto her face. “Sorry,” I whispered, watching as she shakily got to her feet. I was unsure whether or not she should be doing that, but I could use the extra help!

The orange and green stout fire type plundered towards me while the cubone came to a stop to plan another attack, and I readied a shadow ball. Pretending the cubone was Cubbs, a spark of dislike got the ghost move fired up, and combined with the negative energy emitting from the surrounding pokémon, I shot the spherical dark matter forwards, and it hovered above the ground until it struck the numel, sending him back a few paces.

“Gimme my bone!” The cubone presumably had his heart set on retrieving his bone as he sprinted in my direction, jumped a few centimetres, and landed with his lower half turned as if he were surfing. What certainly wasn’t a wave of water sprayed in our faces, and in no time I was seeing sand. However, the cubone never made it to his beloved object as Zhol covered him in snow and ice, freezing the sucker in his tracks, as well as the ground his feet were attached to. I had no objections as I looked to her, a satisfied expression in place, but she was unable to reflect my feelings as she staggered and dropped, catching her weight with her powerful claws. I ducked my head to assist her, checking to ensure her safety.

“Take it easy,” I advised, and the sneasel wheezed, presenting her undefeatable half-grin.

Our silent exchange was interrupted as our ally grunted loudly. Shard was fending off not only two sandslash, but the numel which previously challenged me. I found this completely unjust, and with a burst of sudden heroism, I sped forward. Just as a sandslash lashed out at my scyther acquaintance, I released a stream of fire, hopefully frying her ears and whatever else it happened to hit. Quickly I repeated the action on the other sandslash (while I heard Shard shriek), and I skidding to a stop as they both shook off and raised their massive weapons. Another numel and a sandshrew appeared from nowhere on the ledge and began making their ways down, presenting more problems.

By that time I was fleeing back towards Zhol and into the sanctuary of trees, the sandslash tailing me. Zhol avoided them both as we rushed past her, but one caught sight of her frozen fellow cubone and turned to her. The sneasel backed up, her claws out to the sides in case she needed to use them. However, one of her legs gave way and she almost fell, giving the sandslash nearly complete dominance. In an effort to evade the sandslash on my tail, I whirled around, earning myself a scratch from the outstretched claws, and, gathering fuel for another shadow ball as fast as I was able, I fired the attack at the other sandslash. I nearly missed as it slammed into her, and Zhol was dubbed a lower priority as the enemy pokémon regained her balance and slapped me into her line of sight. “Uh oh,” I muttered, forced to make a sharp turn to the left and back toward the trees, confusing the sandslash that didn’t stop for Zhol—Sandslash One. I knew Zhol was thankful as I raced between trunks and kicked up dirt especially for my followers to swallow, and I began to notice that the forest was thinning. ‘Oh, that’s right!’ I thought, thinking myself to be a bit of an idiot. ‘It’ll get rockier and rockier.’

I was faster than those ground types, which meant I had a bit of an advantage, and that showed as I tossed my head over my shoulder to check their positions. After feeling bushy material tickle my toes, I suddenly slammed into something, falling on my back. I groaned and rolled over, taking in the massive stone that I somehow didn’t see. I stumbled behind it and slumped against it, waiting out the pain in my front. It slowly faded, but I knew I’d have a bruise or two.

The stone shook as a sandslash, as I had expected, ran face-first into its surface, and I held back the giggles as Sandslash Two (or Angry Sandslash) leaped from the bushes and landed to my right. Since she was shocked and distracted by her partner’s sudden halt, her peripherals failed to pick me up, and I gave a smirk. I took this opportunity to use a quick attack, knocking the foe off her feet, and followed it up with a (disappointingly) weak flamethrower. Sandslash One appeared at Angry Sandslash’s body, and readied her claws—those giant ones as long as her mouse-like face. She launched herself at me, nicking my tail as I turned it and ran, circling the small clearing we’d stumbled into.

I nearly stopped as I turned to view my backside, thinking the glimpse I caught of it was my imagination. I blinked with horrid realisation as I assessed it: half of my tail was gone. “WHAAAAT?!” I screamed, finally knowing why I felt so much lighter and ‘free’. I shrieked again, and Sandslash One looked taken aback. However, it didn’t throw her off track as she neared, eyes determined and claws ready. But I would have none of that. While running I acidified my throat, my stomach lurching as it bubbled and slid poison liquids up my pipes and into my mouth. With a “Pleh!” I spat a glob after shifting my head around, and I heard a splat before slowing to see the damage I did. However, I left myself open to surprise attacks, and it was then that I tumbled backwards, confused before I realised Angry Sandslash had rapid spun me away from her. I shook off and forced myself to my paws, feeling the increasing burden plaguing my body.

Both sides of my body ached. My thighs thumped as cuts and scrapes dotted my skin, as well as the bullet hole, and my face was still stinging, stones etched between wounds. My shoulders had similar problems, notably the scratch Sandslash One had caused. On top of that, I had half a tail! And how that happened I’d have no clue! Just about the only section of my body that remained untouched was the skin under my mane.

The ground types began closing in on me; I glanced from side to side, wondering what to do. I ran my gaze down Sandslash One, but nearly all the poison had dropped off. I nearly smacked myself in the forehead for forgetting that ground types barely took damage from poison attacks, but it had slowed her down, at least.

Out of nowhere I fired a line of flames towards them, and silently referred to them as cheaters as they retreated into their spikes, becoming nothing more than sharp balls. The fire steered clear of them, and they uncurled as if nothing had happened. I stressed my neck muscles, checking to see what was behind me. A stump and some bushes, and that was practically the end of proper vegetation; ahead (or behind) was dying plantation, and eventually things like cacti and drought-comfortable grass. Flicking my head back to the sandslash, I folded my lips in. These powerful pokémon had me outnumbered and outmatched. They both had type advantages against me, and I had a feeling they weren’t going to stop their ball-curling just for me.

One of them kicked up sand, and I ducked with a squeak, missing it by a hair, while the other darted forward and slashed with her giant claws. If it hadn’t been for the duck, I would have had two stakes in my face! I rolled out the way so I was behind the entrance stone, shards of an earlier boulder attack digging further into my flesh while dirt clung to patches to blood. Sandslash One, who happened to be the one that kicked sand in my face, pursued me in spherical form and bowled me over, her spikes thankfully not impaling me. I landed with an “Oof!” and felt nearly sick as my legs hoisted me up again. Sandslash One rolled back to her friend, and they exchanged inaudible words while I was struggling to regain focus. As weary as I was, I couldn’t let them win. For all I knew, they’d leave me out here with no treatment—or worse: take me back to their lair and eat me!

Just when I thought nothing could get any worse, another shudder of the stone caught our attention, and I picked up some cursing before a black figure leaped over the bush beside it—behind me. I was ready to curse with him as I scanned his body. His main colour was charcoal, but his muzzle and underside were orange. There was what looked to be a tiny skull situated in the middle of his chest, and he had bone bracelets cuffing his ankles as well as streaking his back. He was bigger than me and definitely more intimidating as he snarled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. The horns on his head were curled threateningly, and his eyes were rather enticing and burning with passion. He flicked his elongated, arrow-ended tail in annoyance and I definitely had reason to panic: I couldn’t adequately use flamethrower or shadow ball against him, and definitely not a bite, and honestly I had no motivation to fight him at all. However, that wouldn’t stop him from attacking me with as much force as he pleased.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Nineteen: Tasting the New Life

Zhol grimaced as the first numel thudded against the ground, the ears of his so close together twitching. She held her left arm with her right set of claws, letting a breath seep in and back out again through her small nose. As inclined as she felt to assist her scyther acquaintance, she knew was simply too weak. That rock slide had really taken its toll on her, especially when she had slammed into the ground without being able to cushion herself in any way. Normally she wouldn’t be so drained after one hit, but reasoning with herself, she realised she didn’t often deal with rocks and had not many defences against them. She was just glad she’d arrived in time to free Dusty.

Dusty. She’d sped off into the trees which would surely decrease in number as the rocky plains drew nearer, and those two sandslash had been closely following. She knew they were strong, but Dusty was too. But judging by the wounds she had, Zhol was surprised the flareon was able to keep going when she wasn’t. She appeared just as beaten, if not more, and the sneasel never thought she was more experienced in battle than her. Maybe they were equal, but being a hunter, surely Zhol was higher skilled.

Her mind derailed as she laid eyes on a wave of fire circling away from the numb pokémon as Shard dashed backwards and to Zhol’s right as she watched with angered eyes. She tensed her arm muscles, attempting to regain some kind of strength, and stumbled towards them. She was confronted by the sandshrew as he emerged from the soil, striking her in the chin. She toppled over, her face beginning to pulse with beats of pain. In no time the ground type was back over her, straightening his amateur claws and raking her belly. In a fury Zhol swatted her right chunky paw above her chest and into the pokémon’s jaw, scraping as it fell from his face.

The sandshrew squealed, and the ice and dark type took advantage of the speed she always carried, using quick attack to stand and sprint past him, feeling his body land flat against the ground as she stretched out her arm on the way past. Her legs ached and her knee almost failed as she came closer to the numel, temporarily disappearing with the shadows and showing herself again sometime soon, shoving a blunt side of her claws into the fire type’s face just as he released a small shower of flames. The embers plummeted into her left foot, and she cried out, shaking it as the fire remained lodged on her skin.

As a result of the knock to the face Zhol had given, the numel’s neck swung and he came straight back with a headbutt, shoving the dual type’s paw out of range. As she was distracted and had to lean down to brush the embers aside, he reared back and slammed down again, the ground nearby shaking violently and creating splits which dislodged Zhol’s same foot. It slipped and she scraped her ankle as a sharp rock gashed its top, the rest of her body following and connecting with the ground as it failed to cease its trembling. The rocky ground continued to shift back into place, and she screamed, feeling a horrible pain as a bone or two in her foot crunched and begged her to leave them be.

Shard had no trouble as he hovered above the unstable ground, but he seemed to be otherwise immobile. Zhol, through generating tears and increased desperation, figured that something was getting the better of him. Either that or he simply and plainly refused to help, which was definitely not a suitable option for her, and did not seem like him at all.

The numel turned to the avoidant scyther and felt the hot magma inside his hump fizz and bubble before he unleashed another inferno, and it washed toward his enemies as Zhol’s eyes grew as large as oran berries. Shard gaped and began to flee, but as he laid eyes on Zhol, he sparked a fight with himself.

He couldn’t just leave her there. He was a protector; a warrior. He was not prey; he was a predator. He glanced down his left side, arguing internally. But as he remembered his duty as a scyther – and more importantly, as a friend – he landed and sped to Zhol’s frail frame just in time for the fire attack to hit. The scyther screamed, acting as a barrier before Zhol, and her eyes were wary and wide. She waited only a pawful of seconds before he released another cry as a second attack was launched, bending over and using his scythes to support what his legs couldn’t. He met eyes with the sneasel, and they had but a moment before he swung around with rage and swiped at the dual type behind him. The numel was beyond his reach, but there was no need for closer ranges as a blade of air sliced through the space between them, knocking the numel paces back. He pressed on his right scythe to prop himself back onto his feet, and he turned, facing the foe.

Zhol breathed a small gasp as she took in the scorch marks the lava plume caused, and focused back on her foot with an effort to free it as she tugged. It remained lodged between the halves of earth, creating an enormous inconvenience for her...especially as she captured the moving image of a sandshrew plodding in her direction, and suddenly curled up and quickened his pace—or roll.

She bit down and cried out, trying harder to wedge her foot from the trap, but it would not budge and it was simply too painful to yank at. Shard was busy dodging attacks and issuing ones of his own to notice, and Zhol could only fire shards of ice—which rebounded off the ground type because of his rapid movement. She had no idea what to do as he neared, and her leg screamed in pain as she tried once more to free it.

She was mentally and physically stuck.

***

The dark and fire type continued rumbling, and as one of the sandslash made her move, he leapt, clearing me completely. I felt a wave of relief as I realised he must have made a tragic miscalculation and jumped over his target entirely, leaving me with the perfect opportunity to escape the way he came. My muscles jerked, my mind settled, and...I stopped myself.

The houndoom had came down onto Angry Sandslash, and while she was busy being stood on, he shot a trail of brightly burning fire at Sandslash One. She held her claws up, hissing as the flames worked around her, and I was taken by utter surprise. Why was he attacking them and not me? Pushing aside the possibility that he could have been mixed up, I realised...he must not be the typical enemy I imagined him to be. He was not only helping me, but on my side!

He pushed off Angry Sandslash and moved back a number of paces, only a few metres from me. I turned to him, but before I could ask anything, Angry Sandslash propelled herself forwards and slammed into the houndoom’s body.

I gasped, racing sidewards and tackling her with immediate regret; the pain in my shoulders intensified, and I hardly knew what I was doing as I realised I was throwing myself in harm’s way for a pokémon I didn’t know. We were thrown across the soil while the houndoom shook himself off and targeted Sandslash One. Instantly I scuttled away from Angry Sandslash, almost earning myself another scratch, and stood back to view the scene.

The houndoom fooled his opponent, leaped over her head, and landed behind her before blowing a powerful mouthful of fire onto her spines. She shrieked, darting from the flames, and the dark and fire type whirled around to repeat his action on Angry Sandslash, who was about to attack me. The sandshrew evolution squealed as well and wrapped herself in her spikes, becoming that large, spiky ball again.

I eyed the newest edition to the fight. My suspicion was rising. “What’s with the saviour act?”

The houndoom stopped before me and lowered his eyelids, his mouth flickering into a sly smile. “I’d love for you to stay and chat, but you better get out of here.”

My head withdrew, and I blinked numerously. Had he just told me to leave? “Wh...”

“Just look at you,” he began, scoffing and running his eyes across just about every hair on my body. For some reason I suspected he was only making excuses to check me out.

“What?” I growled in return.

“You’re hardly in any condition to fight,” he pressed, glancing over his shoulder as Angry Sandslash uncurled and plodded to her companion. He looked back at me as I opened my mouth. “They’re not gonna stop now, so go. I’ll take care of them.”

I fumbled with my letters, dropping them and feeling them roll clumsily around my tongue until they formed real words. “What’s in it for you?!”

He snorted amusedly, flicking his long, thin tail. “Impressing a female,” he replied, and whipped around to face Sandslash One as she ran at him. He lowered his head and crashed into her front, and the ground type managed to stand her ground as she blocked his horns with her palms. “Go!” he shouted, his voice strained under pressure.

I barely debated with myself as I gave a heavy sigh and spun around, making for the bushes next to the stone. Once I cleared them, I halted and turned back. The male dual type slipped from the sandslash’s embrace as her inadequate claws failed to attain proper grip, and darted between the trees that led to the barren land beyond. The two enraged pokémon followed, and I watched as they disappeared in the complete opposite direction to me. Huffing, I turned and ran without another thought, leaving them all behind.

***

After a tussle with that spearow who attacked me earlier, I accidentally killed it and it landed in a pile of crap. I felt kinda bad...but at least I finally managed to catch something. Although when I finally did, what were the chances of it becoming inedible? Sure, everything on the inside might taste okay...but I had suddenly lost my appetite when it plummeted into that cursed crap heap. “Stupid wild pokémon...” I muttered, padding to the fallen flying type. I slipped its tail feathers between my toes and dragged it from its place, scowling and knowing I wouldn’t let myself even taste it. “I’m a freakin’ trainer pokémon! I can’t eat this!”

Thinking I may be able to clean it, I carefully chose a place to stick my fangs in. I carried it through the bracken and emerged before a reasonably sturdy scyther and a panting sneasel. Shard was on the rock level above, where we’d been prior to the fight. He didn’t notice me as I showed myself, but Zhol, on the other hand, saw me immediately and radiated a relieved expression. She was leaning against a boulder implanted into the ground, and one eye was closed with what I assumed was pain. I was surprised and less than happy to see her like this, and walked over to her weakening frame, dropping the spearow.

“You’re...back,” she heaved wearily. “Did you...lose those sandslash?”

“Oh, Zhol...” I murmured, ensuring she was propped up. “We need to get back to the colony...”

She cringed, and I couldn’t help but do the same at the sight of her. “Are they...gone?”

“Crap... What happened to your foot?” I asked with worry, taking in its crumpled and deformed appearance. There was a notable gash along the start of her claws on the top of her foot, and she was not using it for support. “It looks—”

“Dusty,” she stated firmly, her eyes narrowing as her breathing showing as laboured. I was slightly startled by the tone in her voice as she swallowed her anger. “Where...are the sandslash?”

“Oh,” I started, agitation sparking, “them. Some houndoom showed up and stole them.” I kicked dirt over the spearow with a front paw, and Zhol seemed to notice, a tad confused.

“Stole...them?”

Our conversation was tucked away for us to retrieve later as Shard landed with a thump beside us. He held a very mangled pair of buneary between his jaws; one was missing an ear. With disappointment trickling from his face, he set them down and grimaced. The skin above my eyes folded in as I groaned, annoyed to have lost dinner to a bunch of rocks...not that there was much meat between them anyway. I was sure Shard felt the same way until he turned to wipe his scythe against a rock, and a scraping noise wavered to my ears. I noticed the long stream of singed armour along his back, and that seemed to be what he was making the uncomfortable faces at.

“Shard, you...your back,” I stuttered, and he met my eyes as his body faced me again.
He flung his eyes over his shoulder, running them down. “...I’m fine,” he insisted, but I shook my head.

“I don’t think so. You sure don’t look it...” I then laid eyes on Zhol. “Neither do you.”

The sneasel’s lips curled. “You aren’t exactly in pristine condition yourself,” she remarked sharply, and I took a step back.

“I’m just sayin’!” I responded, wondering why she got so defensive. “How ‘bout that river you went to check out?” I asked her, addressing the scyther at the same time. “We could go get cleaned up before heading back.”

The pokémon both agreed, and we made our ways to the rushing water past the rock wall with many levels, and where the forest began growing again. I neared the water’s edge and immediately felt like spitting into it, and I barely bothered to clean myself. I just splashed the liquid along my right side were the wounds from shards that had stuck into me at one point were, and I had to dunk my face in to clear the skin of stones and grit (leaving my tuft soggy and dripping wet).

Zhol sat on the bank and applied the water with care, washing away any blood or muck that may have been caking her fur. Shard stood in the centre, too strong and hardy to be taken by the current, and at times he lay down and held himself still to cool the burns on his back. After I was done with myself, I dipped my catch into the river and scrubbed it against a rock—which helped clean the excrement off, but coated it in moss and grime.

We stayed for nearly ten minutes before picking ourselves up and trudging back to the colony, using a shortcut behind the giant rock wall and eventually overtaking it once it levelled out. At one point I offered the bird pokémon to Shard, who accepted my gift and tore at it once we stopped for a single rest. He shared some with Zhol, and when I was offered some, I declined without a second thought. I thought he’d be able to smell the unpleasant odour, but apparently the water had washed it away.

“Why didn’t you want it? It was your catch, after all,” Shard had asked/mentioned, and I had given a sheepish smile.

“I...uh...dropped it in the river, and it...got...slimy?”

He’d been satisfied with that and we’d continued on, eventually arriving at our destination. By the time we waddled in through the east entrance, we were all about ready to collapse. We conveniently had another run-in with some wild ambipom and they’d somehow swiped me, placing me on a branch for their own amusement, and watched me teeter and topple from the unstable place. And it’s not like Shard could have caught me—unless I wanted a change from four to two legs.

The scyther had at least flurried to the treetops and pursued the annoying two purple jesters, but they’d given him quite a challenge as they weaved between branches and played tricks on him. I thought it’d never end until I threatened to burn their homes down, and proved I wasn’t bluffing by setting a tree on fire. They panicked and ran off, but clearly they didn’t know that a fire pokémon’s flames burn out quite easily. They began to smoulder, but to be sure Zhol cooled and muffled them with one of her ice moves. After that experience I’d be happy not to hunt for at least a week.

***

“...Am I better yet?” I questioned, and the floating dual type glanced at me once more, nearing my body. She inspected my covered wounds and asked me to stand up. I did, and she got me to lift my paws and jog on the spot. My bones ached, but weren’t too bad. I assumed they were freezing up, being in this joint, and I was afraid that if I tried to blow any fire, it’d disintegrate and fail to do anything but look pretty. Therefore I deemed getting up and doing chores as more desirable than staying in this...oddly clean, medicine-scented place. Though I was secretly relieved to have my wounds treated, my face buzzed and the many rock shard-inflicted wounds thudded as ice melted inside them. That was apparently the froslass’ way of treating exposed sores, and needless to say, if she was a flareon, she’d use anything but water based medicine.

She’d also smeared my face and every other open wound with a type of oil that she obtained by crushing and mashing leaves from a certain tree, and although I was told it would help disinfect them, it stung! On top of that, I was practically sealed off from the others; there were removable panels between us on either side, and I was in an end cell.

“You seem fully functional,” she replied softly, “and you won’t need any more bandages unless you really want them.”

“Yippee!” I cheered, inspecting the one piece of white material hugging my right front leg. I glanced to my right after exiting my cubicle, spying a dark figure lying inert, her belly rising and falling faintly. “Is she...okay?” I wondered, my concern getting the better of me. A wave of dread washed over me as I recalled my friend’s state before we arrived. “Her wounds weren’t...fatal or anything, were they?”

The froslass – Aemara – looked shocked. “N-not at all,” she quickly responded, and I sighed, feeling considerably thankful. “However,” she started, and I jerked my head to her immediately. She looked lost for the correct words. “She will not be out for a few more hours.”

I nodded after feeling my shoulders drop and I popped my head around to see Shard sitting on a hay-covered bench in the section next to Zhol, his legs hanging over the side. He looked up. “And him?”

“Shardclaw will be fine,” she told me, a weak smile brushing her face.

“Looks like getting to that river was a good idea,” he admitted, giving me a graced nod.

“Y-yes, indeed.” The froslass set down the object she’d been holding. “The cold slows the wound’s developing process.”

“Oh...and that’s why your clinic is all...icy and freezing?” I questioned, not thinking of that till now. She nodded happily, and I copied her motion. “Anyway...can I go now?”

“Yes, you may go,” she affirmed, and I was more than happy to begin my walk towards the exit. Thankfully the clinic had its own entrance (or exit, in my case) so I wasn’t forced to cross her adjoined living area to escape. I came to a halt before entering the sunnier realm, and threw my head over my shoulders. From the angle I was at, only Zhol’s feet and some of her arms and head could be seen. I felt my eyebrows fall. ‘Sheesh... That left foot looks terrible... I really hope her injuries aren’t too bad...’

After wandering the premises for something to do and coming across Mynk, I strode to Habib’s home by her recommendation. Only the slowqueen was home, and I sighed, wondering what she would issue me to do next. “Excuse me,” I began after poking my head in. “I need something to do.”

She pulled away from her bench, which Larse was on the other side of, and stated, “Oh! Hello, there. Would you like to come in?”

I wondered myself if I wanted to. “...Nah, I’m good here.” I was about to repeat myself as she seemed to realise why I was there.

“Oh, the hunting trip... How unfortunate.” She looked as if she was searching her mind when Mynk appeared beside me.

“Oh, hey again.”

“Hi, Dusty.” She turned to Ikari. “We will set out immediately.”

“W...where are you going?” I wondered, hoping not to be left alone.

Ikari answered my question as she got my attention. “They will be going hunting as a replacement for your group.”

“Ahh...” I answered, hoping Ikari wasn’t mad with us. After all...it’s not like it was our fault.

“I’m also ready,” mentioned someone from behind, and I turned to see none other than Azure. I flinched at the sight of her, but she didn’t, as she’d have seen me from behind.

“Good,” Ikari replied happily with a nod.

“But, Dame Slowqueen,” the linoone started, shuffling through the door. She continued as I looked to Azure.

“...What happened...to your group?” she asked awkwardly, and I wasn’t sure how to reply. Was she being patronising after seeing my battle wounds, or was she actually interested in what happened to us? I decided the most likely answer was that she wanted to know the reason she was being sent out in our place.

“Well...a random group of wild pokémon decided we were their enemies,” I mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “It was weird. They attacked us out of the blue.”

Before Azure had a chance to reply and right before I remembered that there was something important I had to ask her, I was addressed, and responded with the turn of my head. “There is a very important task I can give you,” the pink pokémon told me. I felt a smile poke me in the mouth, and I wondered what kind of special mission I was going to be assigned to. “Do you have experience with young pokémon?”

***

A body thudded against the wet ground, and a whimper emitted from the brown pokémon’s mouth. It was a question if anyone could really take him seriously though, since the large buck teeth he possessed were often classed as comical. “I-I’m sorry! I don’t know!”

A tiny rounded body stood firmly at his feet, overlooking the bibarel. “Not good enough,” he tormented, his eyes lighting up and a purple outline beginning to border the cowering dual type.

The Mr. Mime rolled his eyes, sighing placidly and making a clicking sound with his cheeks. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he shrugged while pacing. He moved his head. “‘Cause otherwise it’ll show up on that lovely lardy body of yours.”

“Dontcha mean there’ll be no body left for anything to show up on?” questioned the togepi, a malicious laugh making its way from his tiny mouth. The psychic type nearby chuckled in response.

“Yes...” He gave a sigh and turned to exit. He appeared outside, glancing to the transparent box of helpless captives as they squirmed for freedom. His eyes fell to the ivysaur standing guard, and asked, “Anything?”

The grass and poison type shook his head. “No, Shaz. Nothing.” He looked to his right as if it was to pretend he was distracted.

“Oh?” Shaz scanned his near-invisible walls. “Nothing...at all?”

“N-no. Apart from what we already know—that they came through here.” The ivysaur looked down, muttering, “S-sorry,” unsure if that was an appropriate response or not.

“It’s not your fault, kid,” replied the psychic type, placing a hand on his accomplice’s head. He was about to disappear through the entrance to the leader’s lodge when he stopped. “...I want you to investigate something for me,” he requested, sinking as his knees bent. The ivysaur was wondering and curious as he held a small mouth. “I want you to find out who else talked with them. And...use any means necessary of making them talk.”

He nodded hesitantly, exposing his vines as if for confidence. “Y-yes, Shaz.”

The Mr. Mime’s eyes fogged over with malicious intent, and he smiled, patting the ivysaur’s head. “Good boy.”

***

I’ve been a trainer pokémon my whole life. From the moment I could fight, I participated in battle after battle, striving for greatness to impress my master and weave into the spot of her favourite. On occasion she and I travelled through rough plains, Izante and her trainer there to keep us company, and I would fight off wild pokémon and harsh weather. I was a qualified warrior with high endurance and a sturdy work ethic.

Regarding that... In all honesty I had not expected to be assigned...to this. After being sent on a dangerous hunting mission, it was my duty to do something I’d never conquered before. It was the second task of my stay at the colony...and it was to babysit?

“Play with us, Miss Flareon!” droned a small child—Mynk’s daughter. She tugged on my mane with her stubby paws, and I pulled away, grimacing at her.

“Watch the fur!” I growled, and she stopped to stare. I nearly felt bad before she recoiled and came straight back.

“Mosst is hogging the climbing tree!” whined a small orange pokémon with blue fins on his forearms.

“N-no, I’m not,” protested a little heracross, shyly keeping her distance and stepping away from the trunk.

“Uh oh,” uttered a meditite, “I did an oopsie...” His face looked as if it had caught on fire as he blushed, and I didn’t even want to KNOW what an ‘oopsie’ was.

One spinarak stared intrusively at my tuft and asked, “Why is it so floppy?”

“You smell funny,” pointed out a rude aipom.

“Why are you so fat?” I was poked by that same buizel.

“IT’S FUR!” I shouted, causing the little one to hide behind a stump.

“Were you the one on the ship?” inquired a shuppet, and with an effort I ignored him.

I flung my head to a, “Can you teach us kung fu?”

“I don’t know kung fu!” I shouted, sending the offspring floating away in a river of tears. “Ugh...”

“Help me clean my toes!” yelled another, shoving a foot in my face.

“NO!” I rumbled, finding the very thought disgusting as I swatted the limb from my view.

“What happened to your tail?” wondered an oddish, and I almost fried him, but he ran off before I could.

“Did you have to go to the healing clinic?”

“I WANT TO BURY YOU!” exclaimed an excited gligar, clinging to a stump.

“What’s wrong with your ear?” a plusle questioned, and when she stood on her friend’s head to touch my bullet wound, I happened to realise and spun around, scaring her from her place.

Someone from the other side of me asked, “Where’s Uncle Luck?”

My face became a wrinkled mess as I hissed my reply. “Leave me...a—”

“I made you a mud pie!” someone else sung, presenting a glob of mud in their filthy paws.

“I falled over and hurted my tail!” complained a random azurill.

“My wing hurts more,” insisted an attention-seeking taillow, and I roared, explaining – rather loudly – that a scratch is nothing, and she should be thankful that I wasn’t eating her at the present moment... She flew to the other end of the daycare grounds.

“Excuse me,” interrupted yet another brat, and I began to wonder if they were ever going to SHUT UP, “can you help me make a sandcastle?”

I drilled my violent glare into the yellow pokémon’s seemingly closed eyes and watched him become shocked. “MAKE YOUR OWN BLOOMIN’ SANDCASTLE,” I began, feeling flames lick my throat. “Aren’t abra supposed to sleep for eighteen hours of the day?”

That one scurried off too, so I was only left with only...oh, TWENTY BA-JILLION. Realising this, I upped and fled, darting to the end of the grounds—the end Mynk and I had shared our discussion near. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw, thankfully, too many obstacles obscuring my vision for a sight of the frustrating kids...

“Excuse me,” asked the pokémon I could see coming towards me, and I was relieved to finally come across another non-child. “Need some help?” It was the heracross...Yuka?

“YES,” I responded dramatically, and he gave a chuckle.

“The name’s Yukra,” he added, and I shrugged. Nearly remembered it right.

“Dusty.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the new kid on the block!” he teased, and I narrowed my eyes. But he chuckled once more, passing me with a playful nudge. I heaved a sigh, and if I had a FULL TAIL I’d have flicked its end in agitation.

He plodded in front of me as I dragged myself behind him, appearing before the lot of partially confused – but otherwise absent-minded – small pokémon. “Not again...”

The heracross turned to me, giving a warm smile. “Come on. They’re not hard to manage.”

I dug my paws into the soil. “They’re little horrors! And they won’t leave me alone.”

He chuckled and navigated his way through the bunch. I noticed as some stared timidly as I followed, and I just sighed, focusing my gaze somewhere else. We walked between structures and random sections before coming to a large tree whose branches stretched widely above and reached unexpected lengths throughout the grounds. “Mosst! Come here; I want to introduce you to someone,” Yukra explained, and a heracross crawled out from behind a tree, a shred of bark between her paws. She timidly shielded herself with Yukra’s sturdy legs, and he tossed a glance down his side, her eyes meeting his. “This is our new friend.” He raised a claw at me. “Say hello.”

With what I could see was courage, the dark blue pokémon first contemplated her stance, and secondly she began, “H...hello.” Once that was over she took cover behind the safety of his legs again, and honesly I didn’t know how to react. Clearly if I made too big of a movement she’d probably scurry away and never talk to me again, and I wasn’t sure if I thought she was a bit overdramatic for reacting how she did or not. Perhaps she’s just shy?

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, nodding and staying put. If I created distance between us, she wouldn’t feel like I’m intruding. There was no change about her, however.

“Okay, you can go now,” Yukra offered innocently, and the smaller heracross seemed hesitant at first, but then decided that her feet were to remain firmly planted. I wasn’t surprised: Yukra seemed like a very hardy pokémon and an appropriate protector. “Or...stay here.”

It nearly made me smile, the sight of father and daughter. “...Your kid’s cute.”

Yukra was nearly taken aback by my statement, and in response I eyed him strangely. “No, she’s not my daughter,” he stated, shaking his horn.

“Then...whose is she?”

“My sister’s,” he told me, and my immediate thoughts were questions about how many of these colony members had adopted smaller pokémon—from relatives or not.

Very softly the small bug type spoke up. “Mummy and Daddy are on holidays in the forest.” She stole an avoidant glance from her uncle, and I cocked my head.

“So you’re looking after...Mosst until they return?” I asked, realising it made sense.

He gave a mixed expression. “It’s...a bit complicated.” He met his niece’s eyes and added, “Yeah. That’s basically it.”

***

I’d very quickly accepted Yukra’s offer to join me for the rest of the day, since it meant I wasn’t left alone with a thousand crazy brats, and it actually hadn’t been too bad. He’d shown me around and told me a few things about it. “They were so jumpy and persistent because they haven’t been able to warm to a care taker in a while.”

“What about Wynore?” I had asked as we padded between little pokémon swinging and playing, chatting and running. Mosst was latched onto Yukra’s back, her arms hooked around his shoulders and her legs hugging his shell.

“I assume you noticed that she’s been acting...not herself lately.”

“Well, I’ve never met her before this, so I wouldn’t know how she is...as herself.”

The heracross had given me a look, and then he’d withdrawn it again. “She’s only this way because ol’ Lucky isn’t around.” A nearby rock took flight as his foot slammed into its middle, and I’d nearly flinched. “It means she sometimes has breakdowns, and for a short time the kids have nobody to look after them.”

At that stage I’d been surprised by how much bitterness stained his words, and I wondered what it was directed at. I figured it must have been the general fact of things going wrong, or it was possible he resented Wynore for her apparent uncontrollable action. Whatever it was he didn’t reveal.

By the time every parent turned up to retrieve their young it was sunset, and that too hadn’t lasted long. Currently I sat outside the healing clinic, waiting for Aemara to emerge and let me in. For some reason she had told me to wait until I was granted permission, and although that made me feel like I was taking orders from a stranger who didn’t have the right, I obliged and took a seat on the soil.

At least ten minutes had passed, and I sat twiddling my toes as several thoughts crossed my mind. Before taking on the unwanted mission of babysitting, Ikari had mentioned some kind of ‘colony meeting’ which apparently took place in a section of their land I’d seen before. It was before Den Row and between the lake and the fruit shed, and it was basically a clearing with logs centred around a campfire (which hadn’t been lit), so I assumed we were supposed to sit on the logs and have a discussion around the fire. I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it, but it sounded better than babysitting!

My wait dragged on until my ears pricked to a series of thuds, and it took me not long to determine that somebody was approaching. I whirled around to have my view obstructed by Shardclaw, who came to a halt behind me. Uncomfortably he took his place opposite me and we sat in silence.

I looked up after a while and caught his eyes darting from mine. I let a sigh warm my paws and he seemed to notice. “...Here to see Zhol?”

He appeared surprised to find that I was speaking to him, and made a hesitant nodding gesture. “Y-yeah...”

We kept silent for moments longer before I finally asked, “Were your injuries bad?”

“...Not really,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze. “A-a few scratches...burns along my back...”

“Guess your armour prevents serious injuries,” I mentioned, figuring that to be the reason he was practically unscathed by the boulders. I recognised the shallow gashes left by the two nutzo sandslash and I knew of the burns that were spread up his back and at the start of his wings. Apart from that all that seemed apparent was the collection of ancient scars which clearly weren’t fresh.

“Not all...but most,” he replied, glancing down his right – well, his left and my right – side where the scarring was most visible. It almost looked as if someone had attempted to fry him once before, rather than rip him to pieces. There were claw and tooth marks, however, yet I couldn’t help but suspect that fire had seared his armour long ago.

“So, do you know why those pokémon just decided to show up and ambush us?” I questioned. It was likely he didn’t but anything would be better than no answer at all.

“I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer,” the scyther replied solemnly, and I rolled my eyes, figuring that was typical. “Yet I find it extremely odd,” he mused, eying the ground before looking to me, then to a rock, then back to me.

“Aren’t you friends with your neighbours?” I asked with a shrug.

“They...aren’t exactly neighbouring pokémon...” he mumbled. “Some of the pokémon here might know the ones living in that area.” He drew a long breath as if to settling himself, and added, “Though I can’t be sure.”

I never knew much about neighbours myself, being a traveller my entire life, but I figured them to be friends of some sort. Going ahead and doing some sort of research would be beneficial and after my visit to my sneasel friend, I decided that, avoiding any other unwanted tasks, I could interview some of the colony’s pokémon to find answers.

“What strikes me as strange,” Shard began, and I turned to him again, not realising he had more to say. He seemed hesitant as he met my eyes. “Is that...after Zhol and I were attacked by a numel and a sandshrew, they had an advantage. Zhol’s foot had become wedged between the two sections in the ground, and my burns were fresh. Yet they...left.”

At first I had no idea what he meant by that, and I tilted my head. “...Waddaya mean?”

“The sandshrew was headed directly towards Zhol, and although I was too distracted to see everything, I caught enough to know he didn’t attack her while she was stuck. Then he sped past her curled as a ball and made his way to the rock ledge. He bowled some light rocks from the cliff edge, and they were easy to dodge, but by the time he stopped I noticed the numel beside him.” I titled my head as he continued, his face etched with concern and perplexity. “The rocks were a distraction for the numel to climb the ledges and get to where the sandshrew was, and then...they left. Not long after that you met up with us.”

As much as this puzzled me as well, I wasn’t exactly interested in sifting through details of the unknown. “Weird...” I left it at that and bother not to ponder it further. Changing the subject after a minute of no conversation, I queried, “How long have you known her?” At first he looked a little lost, at which point I decided to add, “Zhol,” and he gave a nod of recognition.

“It’s been...years now. Ever since she began living here as a young sneasel,” he answered, the awkward feeling slowly slipping from between us.

“Oh...okay.” As much as I was yearning to ask him how Zhol wound up at the colony, somehow I picked it as something that I would need to ask the sneasel herself. “Well...” I sighed, figuring I should save it for Zhol. I switched to a new question instead. “Care to...tell me your story?”

The scyther visibly flinched and I watched his wings sink. I came to wonder if I had asked the wrong thing, but it was wiped away as Aemara suddenly floated from her ice den after removing the thick, nicely fitting door with presumable psychic powers. I wasn’t aware she was part psychic type, and I came to the conclusion that she was also an ice type.

“O-oh, Shardclaw,” she began, clearly surprised to see him.

“Hello, Aemara,” he replied respectfully, bopping his head to her.

“And you.” She smiled and turned to me, and I stood up.

“Can I see Zhol now?” I stared at her, the anticipation killing me as the opposing pokémon said nothing. “...Can I?”

“Y-yes. However...” She trailed off and I nearly went in, but a blade suddenly appeared and I followed it back to Shard’s wary and disapproving face. He flicked his eyes to the ice and psychic type, leading me to do the same, and I exhaled. “She will need an escort everywhere she walks.”

To this news I lowered an eyebrow, wondering for what possible reason that would need to happen. “Why?”

“Her injuries are too great for her to rely only on her own strength. She will need others to support her.”

I gasped, remembering the state of that foot after I had returned from my encounter with the hoity-toity houndoom and his haughty heroics. No wonder she would have trouble walking... Her foot had looked ruined and completely unfit for using for support, and now that I thought about it, it had definitely affected her gait on our way to the colony.

Suddenly I felt worried. She couldn’t be seriously injured...could she? “L-let me in.”

The froslass complied and allowed me passage into her clinic, the chill that spiked every section of the air catching me off guard. However, it was nothing compared to the sight of an incapacitated Zhol lying feebly on an elevated mat of hay. “Zhol!” I squeaked, not expecting to see her in such a state. I padded, my head level with my shoulders, to her table and couldn’t help but sniff wearily. I closed the distance between us and swallowed. “Zhol?”

“Y-you shouldn’t wake her!” insisted Aemara as she floated in alongside Shard, but I clenched my jaws and pretended I knew better.

With a moan and a flicker of her eyelids, the sneasel came to life and edged her head towards me. Much to my surprise, she gave a somewhat soft smile. It almost seemed as if she was relieved to see me.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, trying to reflect her expression.

She gripped the edge of the bench with her right paw and pressed against the hay, her whole body rising. The other arm extended to her left foot as she seemed to inspect it, her claws touching the well-wrapped bandages. By this time her smile had thinned out, and her expression was that of conscientiousness and uncertainty. Her eyes fell to her torso, where the other pieces of cloth had been tied in the spot shallow gashes had previously scattered her skin. A thousand thoughts looked to be zipping back and forth through her mind, and honestly I hadn’t a clue of what her opinion on the material was. “Thank you, Aemara,” she finally mentioned, though not making eye contact with the floating pokémon. She didn’t sound too enthused, however, and I wondered if she really meant it.

“I-it’s my duty,” Aemara replied with a bit of a smile. “Please don’t overwork yourself. I suggest staying with the colony for the next week or two.”

At this Zhol almost jumped; clearly she hadn’t expected such a piece of news. Her brow furrowed as Shard stepped closer. “Your wounds are too great for you to be up and participating in something such as hunting or battling. It...would be foolish to expose yourself to more danger and risk an infection of some sort, or to have your wounds struggle to heal.” The scyther seemed to droop as he explained, and I could only guess he was disappointed or empathetic. My eyes scanned his left side quickly before averting to Zhol.

The sneasel stiffened as she absorbed what flew to her ears, and I continued to stare as I took it upon myself to add something else she would need to be aware of. “...Also, uhh...” I searched for the right words as she waited expectantly, all cheer ridden from her solemn eyes. “Well, you won’t be able to walk...without help.” I signalled to her crumpled foot as she followed, then met me at my spot again. I averted my accusing stare to Aemara, and she perked up, ready to listen. “Hey, can’t we give her crutches or something?” At first the other three stared at me blankly, and it was then that I realised that was a human term. “You know...a piece of wood like a walking stick that she can lean on for support?”

Aemara pondered before saying, “I’m afraid that will be difficult for Zhol to hold.” She looked to the sneasel’s paws. “Given she does not have thumbs...”

“Well then...secure her paw to it with something. Or put a hole in the wood somewhere where her paw can rest.”

“...I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Aemara replied, trailing off. I knew she was resistant to create an argument of any sort, so I left it at that and merely rolled my eyes.

“Well...” Zhol looked to me. “I...I know it’s a l—”

“It’s fine,” she intervened, staring back at her foot. I could tell she was avoiding tension between us as she kept her eyes fixed, and she must have found it easier to suppress her feelings if she wasn’t connecting with someone at that moment. “It was foolish of me to be so reckless.”

Suddenly I felt myself relax and tense up immediately after. I raised my cheeks, but I was not smiling. “You’re...blaming yourself?” I questioned, finding the thought rather absurd. Especially when she had no control over the pokémon that did this to her, and it wasn’t her who attacked first!

Her hardened expression slipped from her grasp as she looked back to me. It was as if she was at a loss for words. Whether she realised it or not was uncertain, and I had to wonder why she was so shocked that I would point it out. My question hung in the air as she returned to her foot and asked, “Is the colony meeting soon?”

Having ignored my question, I ignored hers and let Shard answer. “Yes. As a hunter, you’ll need to attend.”

“As a member of the colony, you have to attend,” someone corrected rather matter-of-factly, and all four of us turned to the entrance. “Hey, Aemara.”

“Tarla,” the froslass beamed, her mood immediately brightening as she identified her visitor.

“Oh,” I grumbled inaudibly, “you.” The altaria’s appearance certainly didn’t excite me, and frankly I would have preferred not to have seen her.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Zhol responded without particular hostility; it sounded as if the sneasel had enough respect for the flying and dragon type to address her without attitude. For some reason I’d assumed she wouldn’t have liked her, but I supposed that was my job.

“Here to tell you that the colony meet will be held after nightmeal.” She nodded her head to Aemara, the froslass repeating the motion politely in return, and the intruder was out in a flash.

The silence returned to prod us in the backs before we looked to one another, and Shard focused his gaze on Zhol. “Would you like me to assist you?”

Zhol remained focused on her foot before she released her frown and nodded. The scyther made a swift movement to the side of the bench, seemingly unfazed by the burns stretched up his back, and held his scythes normally out in front of him as Zhol swung her legs over the side. She dropped to the floor and kept one foot off the ground, bending her left paw’s claws over the top of his scythe as a means of gripping it. She showed a weak smile before they began walking, her paw pressing down as her available foot hopped forward. The bug and flying type was clearly dealing without a problem as the added pressure to his supported scythe did him no disservice, and the duo made it to the exit without a hiccup. Shard pushed the door open with his shoulder, making his way out first, and held open the door while supporting the smaller sneasel at the same time.

Aemara smiled and turned to me as I strode forwards, slightly confused. I hadn’t helped her at all, and she seemed too occupied to see if I was following... I shook my head and paced forward, a timid voice catching my attention before I was within a metre of the doorway.

“E-excuse me,” Aemara began, moving around to my left, “but... Your hollow wound.” She moved her sleeve-like hand to point it at my thigh. “...May I ask how you got it?”

It took me no longer than a moment to figure she was referring to my bullet wound, and I knew she must have realised it was less than fresh, and therefore it couldn’t have happened during today’s fight. She flashed her eyes to my ear and it was obvious she knew of my ear’s problem as well.

“Uhh... I’ll explain...later,” I answered, feeling as if I was in the wrong position to talk about the ship and the events that took place. I figured I’d tell everyone at once, perhaps even at the colony meet if it was convenient.

The froslass wasn’t overly thrilled with my answer, as she was presumably concerned, but she could wait. As could everyone else I’d briefly told about the ship and why their colony members were missing.

The question I wanted to ask was why. Why was I the one to tell everyone and blabber on about the awful things that happened to us? ‘I guess I took on the responsibility the moment I decided to take matters into my own paws...’ I scowled and turned away. ‘It’s unfair...’

Strutting from the icy den, I stepped into the fresh air once more. Night was swelling and would soon engulf us all; everything had changed colour and the atmosphere was beginning to quieten. This would mean fewer distractions for when I relayed the anecdote...

I froze. I blinked. I felt a terrible pain extend through my stomach. ‘Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Oh, *****.’ I heard Aemara ask me if I was alright before I bit down and tensed my paws.

Not only would I have to tell the colony that their members were captured and about to be shipped off to some Team Rocket Headquarters, but...I’d have to tell them that one of them was murdered. That Luck was murdered.

‘How the HELL am I going to do that...?’

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty: Stories

I knew.

I knew I would have to tell them eventually. I just didn’t know when or how I’d do it. It wouldn’t seem like a big deal to someone who lacked my position in the matter...but this would be hard. Harder than returning matted fur to a pristine condition, and harder than admitting to myself that I was the cause of his death. That was another thing. What would I say? That he was killed while battling the garchomp? Luck was strong... I wouldn’t know how many pokémon would believe me. ‘Should I tell them the truth? That I caused his demise? Or force them to believe a lie that’s convenient for me?’

“You planning on eating that?” asked a pokémon, and I was dragged from the depths of my thoughts and back to reality.

I stared back at a navy blue face and squeezed my eyelids together. “Uhh...y-yeah.”

“Just checkin’,” he responded coolly, fitting a stem into his mouth and pulling it out with not a trace of the previously attached berries.

I looked to my own dessert; a pair of ripe berries laid untouched a few hairs from my paws. I didn’t know if I really did want them or not. “Actually...here,” I offered, giving them a light budge with a paw to my left.

“Cheers!” Yukra grinned from the log next to me as he reached down, bits of pecha berry between his teeth. I gave a small chuckle and turned away.

Most of the colony sat in a circular formation on – or in front of – the designated logs. I found it both difficult and uncomfortable to sit on mine, so I was seated in front of it. The fire was the only thing that kept me there. Zhol sat with Shard a few places up, causing the void between me and the colony to seem even larger. I didn’t feel...like I fitted in with them properly. They all seemed so well placed, and me... I was a stranger in their eyes, just like they were to me. I kept my head down as feelings of dread taunted me with their fluffy tails.

“Anyone got a scary story?” Yukra inquired after swallowing his first bite into the fruit I gave him. Most of the idle chatting subsided as all eyes fell to the heracross, and I sank, undesiring of so many gazes. “Anyone?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t!” chuckled a low voice. I laid eyes on a large pokémon easily twice my height, although much broader. I hadn’t seen him before that moment, as the yellow and ebony pokémon hadn’t shown himself prior to the colony meet. Clearly I hadn’t been around long, and I reasoned with myself, figuring it wasn’t strange to see new colony members after only one day—and not even a full one at that.

“I’m fresh out!” laughed Yukra, and I somehow seemed to be missing the humour.

“Krinn, I bet you have one!” shouted a rattata tyke—presumably Hyso and Gigin’s male.

The electric pokémon gave another chuckle in response, his orange eyes shimmering in the light of the fire. He moved two powerful-looking arms and placed a black finger on the tip of his chin as he seemed to rummage through his brain.

My eyes trailed down his legs, which had two dark stripes each, and his sturdy black feet with intimidating claws. The way he sat reminded me of Master, although his head had fur rolling off both cheeks, thus obscuring any trace of a neck and leaving a gap for his teeth to show when he smiled.

As he turned back to the heracross seated next to me, an idea looked to have eased its way into his head. “I did hear one story recently...” he began, the two pipes tipped with red points attached to his back swaying while he transferred his weight to his legs. He took a step toward the fire. “It was a dark and rainy night when two siblings, a plusle and minun were walking through a deserted forest.” The electivire tilted his head, staring at the heart of the raging fire before flicking his eyes to those crowded around.

“Ooh, I know this!” Yukra exclaimed, leaping from his log and buzzing over to his friend. He landed and grabbed the air with his claws, dragging his hand diagonally. “Lighting streaked the sky and the rain was endless. It was too dark to see much at all, and only the outlines of trees showed up to the pokémon’s eyes.”

Krinn stepped away from Yukra, sticking close to the fire as he continued. “Nobody else was around, and the only sounds were those the storm created, and the two creatures whimpering as they tried to remember the way home. ‘Plusle, we’re lost!’ Minun cried as she heard another crack of thunder.”

“Plusle tried to be brave as he spotted a tall tree with a hollow at the base and said, ‘L-let’s take cover in that tree trunk.’ So they went to the tree and ducked into the hole.”

“They waited for hours,” Krinn continued, his back to the fire as he circled it, eying the baby pokémon huddling against their parents, “and suddenly there was a loud crack of thunder!”

Yukra jumped forward, frightening Mio and Ollie as Greech tried to keep his cool. Krinn smiled, continuing, “Everything went white for a split second before a tree came crashing down and landed just outside their hiding spot! They were almost trapped, but luckily there was a small gap at the top of the hole in their tree. They climbed through that and landed on the fallen tree. Minun began to cry, and Plusle kept trying to tell her that everything would be okay...”

“But just as Minun was settling down, pairs of glowing eyes started to appear from every direction. They began to hear growling, and suddenly a shadowy figure appeared between the trees on top of a nearby hill, and Plusle began to shake.” The heracross lifted the shell on his back and his wings began to vibrate. I assumed he was creating an intense atmosphere. “He mustered his courage and yelled, ‘Who are you?’ But he didn’t receive an answer. The sky released another thunderbolt, lighting the figure’s face and revealing his species: a gengar.”

Krinn’s body exploded as a powerful shockwave shot towards the clouds, vaporising as it found nowhere to go. The colony members nearly leapt from their places, and even I felt my fur bristle as I suffered a jolt of surprise.

Yukra grinned and kept his voice low. “The gengar was gone in another flash of lightning, and Minun hugged her brother in fright. Both pokémon looked for the ghost type, but neither found anything. Until...”

“The gengar popped up beside them, scaring them out of their wits!” Krinn yelped, both he and Yukra making sudden and unexpected movements. By this time the electivire had rounded the fire to my side, where he locked his eyes with mine, sending an uncomfortable chill down my spine. “He showed his teeth in a smile and said, ‘You look lost,’ and vanished again... He reappeared on their other side and asked, ‘How about coming to my cave, where you’ll be out of this wretched rain?’”

“No! Don’t do it!” cried the baby rattata again. “He’s a bad pokémon!” Yukra moved his gaze to the little purple and tan pokémon, clearly glad to have him so involved. Krinn also moved on, spooking the pokémon to my right as he continued to move around the fire at a slow pace.

“Plusle wanted to say no, but he didn’t have any other choice. He didn’t want to be eaten by the red-eyed creatures, and a cave sounded like a perfect place to take shelter from the storm. So he said yes, and the gengar grinned again, and started leading them away from the log...”

“No, no!” protested the small rattata once more, and I found myself wondering how such a story would wind up.

“So...just like the gengar promised, they came to a cave. Minun and Plusle both went in, and suddenly the cave door shut behind them!”

“BOOM!” Yukra thundered, expanding his wings and his shell at the same time as he extended his arms.

Several screams echoed from the smaller pokémon’s mouths, as well as older ones, and luckily the only reaction I had was a mere flinch. It was a full-body flinch, but still just a flinch.

“They tried to get back out, but a large rock sealed their exit. Then, as they turned around, those red eyes began to appear again, all flashing as they closed in on Plusle and Minun. Both pokémon screamed and tried using their electric attacks, but they did no harm as the evil pokémon shook it off. They banged against the rock again, but nothing happened, and nobody could hear their cries for help. There was no escape!”

Krinn crackled once more, sending bolts of electricity over the audience members’ heads. Then all quietened down, the sizzling of the fire and the faint swaying of the trees the single sounds. “...Plusle and Minun were never seen again, but some say their spirits still wonder the caves in search of a way out...”

The silence hovered as the storytellers ceased their movement, and an intense feeling snaked between each pokémon seated around the bonfire. Some stared while others gaped; a select few seemed unaffected, such as the sceptical and cloudy bird of prey. I noticed a lot of the young swallow; I also noticed their numbers had decreased by over half. It was a major relief, but I wondered where the others were. As well as who their parents all were, considering I had not seen many pokémon whose species were related to the majority of the daycare kids.

“The end,” Yukra simply stated, thudding casually to his seat. Krinn did the same, and I was kind of confused. The ending was so abrupt, as well as the sense-making factor being low. Pokémon with glowing red eyes? A gengar whose reason as the story’s villain was not apparent? I wanted to know how the plusle and minun got there, and why they were alone. However, most of the colony didn’t seem to care about such things. I guessed that, legitimate or not, these ‘scary stories’ were purely for entertainment.

Response chat commenced, at first being uttered between the odd couple, and eventually expanded to nearly every pokémon’s mouth. I heard comments such as, “That was scary!” and “Did they...get...get eaten?” I rolled my eyes, figuring most of the comments came from the little ones.

I hardly noticed as Zhol excused herself and requested to be taken back to her quarters in Aemara’s clinic. Shard and Yukra offered, and they both returned shortly after, taking their seats again as if they’d never moved.

After a while everyone seemed to settle down once Habib initiated more silence. He had stood up, being a few spaces from me, and addressed everyone. “I would like to focus now on the reason for this colony meet.” All eyes became fixed on him, and it was almost inspiring to see that the lickitung had everyone’s complete attention without so much as a single request. “We have a guest staying with us for a while. One who’s come from all around the regions. Recently she experienced an event most other pokémon would not even imagine would happen to them...” He shifted himself to face me completely, and I did the same without realising. “I would like to introduce you all to Dusty the flareon.” He gestured towards me with a pink arm, and I flinched as I realised the entire colony – or, all who were there, at least – had its eye on me. It seemed as if even the dens were watching with intense interest, and I shuddered at the trickling gazes skimming my back like a hairy spider.

“Uhh... Hi, everybody...” I swallowed, awkward silence stretching out and setting up a mound of grass. As it sunk down and relaxed, I came to the assumption that it wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. I looked up, figuring the reason they continued to stare was because I was failing to entertain them. I decided a question-and-answer session was appropriate. “If anyone has questions...” I began, implying that I would answer them.

Nobody spoke for a few moments before that altaria fluttered from her perch and squawked, “How long are you staying?” in a rather demanding and intrusive manner.

I sneered and answered, “I’ll let you know when I can.” Realising I came across as rude, I shook my mane and forced a failing smile. “...Next question?”

“I-if you don’t mind my asking,” started another pokémon, and I spotted Aemara as she passed the fire, “is it possible to tell us more of the human transport...that I understand you were on?”

I knew it would get to this eventually. I supposed the whole ‘question and answer’ thing was going to turn out differently to how I imagined if someone was to ask about the ship...and someone had. Several pokémon’s eyes widened, and it was clear they also desired answers.

“If it’s alright,” Shard interrupted, my eyes flicking to his, “I would like to know what happened as well.”

“Yes,” Habib stepped in, “the Rokont Organisation has had recent activity, or so the rumours say.”

I wasn’t sure who to answer first, so I turned to the giant lickitung and swallowed. “Team Rocket...was their name.” A wave of tingles washed over me, nervousness gripping my scruffy mane.

“Hmm...” he mused, a paw on his chin. “Team Rocket...”

The unceasing gazes wavering through my eyes gave me a strange sense of responsibility, and I felt the need to explain myself. After all, keeping my lips sealed only meant more procrastination – which I usually don’t bother about – making matters worse for myself, and possibly conveyed the message that I was hiding something, or that a terrible occurrence kept me reluctant to speak. Whichever it was, the fact still stood: they had a right to know what happened to Luck, as well as every other pokémon whose lives were altered for the worse. How I was to do it was unknown at that moment, but it had to be said. And I had to be the one to say it.

“Y’ see...” I swallowed, hooking my memory and dragging it into the past to recall the recent events still so clear in my mind. “It began...for me...when my trainer and I were battling another trainer. Of course, my ally was my best—” Something must have lodged itself between my wind pipes for a moment, as my voice had stopped there, and I reconsidered. “...My friend, a leafeon called Izante, and her trainer was my trainer’s, um...best friend.” I closed my eyes for seconds before continuing. “After the battle, the golem we’d been battling told me some strange things, and I didn’t know what he meant. Izante had the opinion that he was just crazy. Later we...” I grew a tiny smile, lost in thought as I remembered how oblivious I still was. “Izante and I went for a swim... Hah, she told me to stop being a torchic and to just...swim. She was circling me like swimming’s the easiest thing in the world, but...she knew I couldn’t do it.” My smile lasted as I strayed off course, but the eyes asking for more snapped me out of my reminiscing. “Anyway...we were attacked by what we thought was a stray armaldo, but it turned out that he was a Team Rocket human’s pokémon.

“He took us back to a campsite where we were caged, and soon we found ourselves on the move for a good three days and nights...” I shuffled the harmless soil over my left paw with my right, watching as the orange fur strands became a hue of brown. “Then we were loaded onto a ship in different compartments, and none of us knew where we were going... None of us knew how to escape; the cages were immune to our powers.” The fire coughed, regaining itself shortly after, spraying a shower of embers which barely touched those around it. I was suddenly reminded of the many fires that lit our paths when we used to travel, and warmed us on chilly nights... They brought us together; we would all crowd around them and rely on them for our survival. I always lit them, and the combination of that and their importance was what made me feel as though I was really wanted... That I was essential to my master, and even to Izante, who I believed really needed me... I cringed, clenching my fangs and shaking my head.

“And we were put in cages that wouldn’t break...” Realising I’d already mentioned that, a frown shaped my brow, and I rethought. “But then a quilava broke out of his cage, and...and I don’t know how, but he...yeah, he broke out...” I heard someone draw a sharp breath through their nostrils, but I wasn’t sure which pokémon was the culprit. “So...his friend had some blast seeds that he snuck in, and he used them to blow holes in the cages where the locks were... It didn’t take us long to discover that our attacks dealt damage from the outside, and soon enough all the pokémon were free...” I continued to explain that a plan was devised and that eventually a war had commenced. I even mentioned the pokémon I met, including...Luck. Someone had asked who it was that issued the plan for freedom, and I was momentarily stumped. It was hard to answer... Although I was supposedly the hero, something felt wrong... So I simply replied with, “A pokémon from my crate.”

I paused while explaining the garchomp’s appearance, and didn’t mention the internal cargo hold. I also skipped the trivial things, such as my arguments and the battle with Azure, and only included the gun part to glorify Larse, who smiled politely as I did so.

“Dusty,” Shard interrupted in a calm and solemn tone as I had stopped, “what happened to Luck?”

This was it. The section of the story I wanted to avoid, but obviously it was inevitable.

They had to know. I had to tell them. That moment was what the conversation had boiled down to. They’d been dying to know since I first arrived, and I’d been frightened to tell them. “Luck...” I started, drilling my glare into the earth. “He...” I moistened my lips with my tongue, my breathing pace increasing. “He fought the garchomp with me.” I could sense the surprise that heightened the tension surrounding us, but I pressed on. “He fought the garchomp, and he saved me more than once. The last time he saved me, he...he...”

My gaze connected with every pokémon staring at me... Some I didn’t recognise, but others I knew personally. Their eyes were innocent... Sorrow already clouded their vision; the story of a pokémon stolen away from her trainer and thrown into the hands of those reckless and uncaring would tear anyone’s heart to pieces. Mynk seemed hurt in many ways; maybe she was envisioning herself or her child going through the same process. I imagined my trainer felt the same way about me as Mynk felt about her daughter... After all, Master raised me. She taught me nearly everything I knew... I had also spotted Wynore and her teddiursa. That cub was as much Luck’s as she was Wynore’s, and the notion of becoming fatherless so early in her life was painful even to me, someone who barely even knew the family...
Next, Shard’s face haunted me. He appeared attached to Luck in some way or another, and he stood noble and tall as he awaited my answer. But...seeing his colony – his family – so expectant of his return and so already proud that he fought bravely to protect the lives of mostly those he hadn’t an acquaintance with was heart-wrenching. I locked my jaws together as needles injected themselves into my body—first my head, then my chest. After that it pierced random places, including my wounds.

I ripped skin tissue from the inside of my mouth and chewed it frantically, my toes restless as they cleared the soil and scraped the earth. What sane pokémon wanted to reveal to someone’s family that their close friend was dead? More seriously, that their close friend had been murdered? And that the culprit was some demon pokémon whose soul seemed not to be present, and whose heart was tainted by the shady colours of death? Was it supposed to be easy? I wasn’t going to wake from some kind of nightmare, but I feared I’d cause the colony pokémon to plunge into a nightmare of their own; if Luck, a strong and courageous pokémon, was killed so easily, how long would it take for the rest of the colony to have its members stolen away and extinguished once more? What if the ship was rebuilt and Team Rocket returned for bitter revenge? And it would have been my fault, obviously, since I initiated the plan. And when that time would flood into action, more innocent pokémon would be ripped from all they knew because of me.

Before anyone else could speak, I made the decision to finish what I started. “Luck...fled.” I forced my jaws shut, one of my fangs snagging a piece of skin and piercing it. I flinched at the sudden infliction of pain, and gave the backs of my eyelids a good, hard stare.

“He...fled?” replied Shard nearly incredulously, his frown telling me that he disbelieved the statement that much that it had to be a lie. “The last time he saved you, he fled?” At that moment I realised my sentence hadn’t even made sense.

A stream of chatter snaked between the soil and touched every blade of squashed grass. The general tone suggested disappointment and as I turned to Wynore, a bitter tinge of shame glazed her eyes. I suddenly widened my own, realising how much of a disservice I was doing Luck, even in his deceased state. I was dishonouring him in one of the most degrading ways, which I know I definitely wouldn’t have appreciated had he and I be in opposite positions. However, a sudden thought sprung from my mind, smacking me in the jaw with the power of realisation.

He wouldn’t be so cowardly. He would have spoken the truth, however harsh, and he’d face the problem head on, arms strong and deception very last on his list. Yet I couldn’t do it. It was too hard for me, but did that mean that the colony pokémon should suffer because of my personal issues? They would have to believe my every word – every letter that formed the words I spoke – because I was a witness. But what if the witness lies? Shall she be condemned until she comes clean, or should she uphold the lies for the sake of the dwindling hope alight in others? Was it hope...or a false belief only keeping them tied to the things of the past—the things they must learn to release?

“That’s not like him,” I heard a bewildered pokémon utter.

“Not like him at all...”

“W-WELL,” I began just a little too loudly, “um, he... H-he, he didn’t...flee... I-I mean... He, um... L-left with the other pokémon—that’s right! He helped others get away...”

“While you...fought the monster?” Shard questioned with scepticism.

‘He’s onto me,’ I growled internally, almost wishing he would put his mind to rest. “Y-yes... There were others! To help me...” I swallowed, figuring I was less than convincing.

“Then...what happened?” he inquired warily.

“Look, it’s...a bit blurry... I ran into Izante again and...” By this stage my gaze was pointed away from any pokémon and directed at a sad, flattened clump of grass. “And...that’s when I learned of her secret.” I began shaking my head, the defiance in my mind growing as I longed for it to be anything but true. “She’s a Rocket pokémon.”

More pokémon began murmuring after a moment of silence, the fire’s crackling unresting. “No,” responded the male raticate whose name escaped me, muttering to his mate shortly after.

“Well...this story beats ours,” Yukra chuckled grimly, shrugging as Krinn did the same.

I was in the wrong mood to accept the humour, and curled my nose instead. “My best friend...a traitor,” I continued, focusing on my paws as my vision grew blurrier. I wasn’t sure who was listening if anyone at all was. “I was an idiot to be so ignorant... Blinded by friendship. What an ugly thing,” I spat, noticing droplets glistening on my collar of fur before they slipped and stamped circles into the soil. I wiped my eyes with my shoulder, standing and turning as the pokémon chattered in cautious manners. Voices began to dwindle as Mynk asked quietly why I was going – and where – and I neglected to face her as I contemplated a response. Nothing came, so I kept my mouth sealed and bounded over the log, gliding across the earth and occasionally pounding it with stressed paws.

With an aching heart and a guilty conscience, I melted between the trees into the dark forest, hearing one or two pokémon call after me. Their words meant nothing; I needed to flee. I had to escape the torment. Being around them was merely a reminder of my failed duties and my false, misleading information. I gritted my teeth and bound my eyes, leaving my trail of tears in my wake.

***

After stumbling over a fallen tree and rolling for a short time down one side of a hill, I came to a halt underneath a willow. I mumbled a line of annoyance before picking myself up and hobbling under its stick-thin boughs to its trunk; I had injured my leg during the fall, but it was nothing serious. I flexed my left knee once taking my place on the soil, and cringed as I felt a shot of pain spike my joint. “Looks like I won’t be going anywhere...”

A hoothoot’s evening chant rang out, bouncing off the trees until it came crashing to the ground. As the sound died away I realised just how silent it was. Going from chatter and a crackling fire to near-silence was somewhat of an abrupt change. However, silence was flattering. It calmed my nerves and stroked my conscience; for once I felt relaxed. It was nice to escape the commotion. Sometimes solitary time was necessary.

I heard a squeak and a tiny voice inquire, “What are you doing in my home?”

I spun around to face a pachirisu, her large tail slightly bristled and her face attempting to conceal the apparent fear. “Your home?” I tilted my head, viewing the dome-like structure of the branches and overhanging leaves protecting the trunk of the tree. An opening just small enough to fit a pachirisu not yet fully grown sat at its base, and I assumed the trunk was only hollowed out to the first branch. I was mildly surprised the tree was still standing; the trunk was so narrow that I thought any kind of hollow would surely cause it to collapse. Perhaps the pachirisu was wary of its demise.

“Please,” she began, “this tree is the only thing I have.” A light frown found itself resting on my brow. “Spare a stranger and have pity.”

I adjusted my paws and shifted my weight to my back paws. “What are you talking about?” I asked quietly.

“P-please! I’m no good to eat, really. My kind taste pretty awful, for your information.”

“I’m not going to eat you,” I told her with a tinge of annoyance combined with confusion. “Don’t you think I would have pounced already...or...done whatever hunters...do...or something?”

The electric type was somewhat surprised, and I wasn’t sure why. “Well...” She seemed at a loss for what to say before eying the ground. Maybe she was looking for words under the soil.

“Goodbye,” I muttered, turning to leave. The leaves stroked my pelt as I exited. Last thing I wanted was to start a riot or a fight. Frankly I wasn’t interested in making friends, either.

“Hey.” I had only gotten a few metres before I heard a rustle and moved my head to the right. I didn’t bother to rotate my body or even place my head in such a position for our eyes to connect. “...Thanks.”

I nearly faced her completely before convincing myself it was pointless, and simply replied, “For what?”

The pokémon must have stood staring for a moment before I heard another rustle. She had scurried back to her tree.

Amidst the confusion lacing my mind about the peculiar encounter, I padded slowly on, my head low to the ground. The last time I’d conversed with a pachirisu...was when I was searching for Izante. I’d just woken up after the armaldo attack. I thought I might have died. But worse than that, I had feared Izante had suffered the same fate. ‘We were so close...’

I found a spot amongst fallen trees and well rested logs a few minutes from the pachirisu’s willow. I stared at the sky above, joining several stars together to create a picture. They shimmered against the intense mixture of black and blue, stretching their light beyond what small space they occupied amongst the extension of the sky.

My master would often share with me stories of the Sky Warriors. They were said to be mystical beings that served the world and bestowed peace in the time of great need. Although casualties were constantly on the menu, so was justice. “To get their hands stained was the price of peace,” Master had said. “They knew they would never lead peaceful afterlives for their acts, and they had to accept that they were the world’s sacrifices as well as the saviours.”

“But why? It was necessary! Shouldn’t Arceus make an exception for them?” I had asked, but my attempts to speak with my human trainer were futile every time. This would have killed me if she hadn’t been able to read faces. I wasn’t sure if all humans were gifted with the ability to communicate with their trainers that way, but even so, us pokémon could mimic the humans’ expressions and make our own just as easily.

‘Yet so far away...’ A bitter dressing sprinkled my thoughts as I continued to stare, unable to depict the pictures as clearly as Master had described them. She would always point each character from the story out to me. I still wasn’t sure if what she told me was true or not—if it was fact or fiction. It didn’t matter to me, though. I always enjoyed her tales.

Suddenly I made something out. It looked a little bit like a flareon...or a glaceon... “...Or a leafeon,” I whispered, the memories flooding my mind once more. I remembered that on a few occasions, while we would be seated around a campfire, Master would recite those stories... She would educate Izante and her master of the Sky Warriors too, and my leafeon friend and I would often quote them or remind one another of specific events in select stories.

“...I do miss her.” I glanced skyward again and tried to find that constellation once more. When it didn’t redraw itself, I lowered my head again, fixing my gaze on a curved green leaf. It was alone – one of its kind – yet it was surrounded by sticks. Other leaves were scattered outside the stick circle, but none were near the central leaf. I noticed that the closest leaf to the sticks was an autumn leaf. With a grunt I burned the middle leaf, pushed the sticks toward the tiny flame and watched as they caught fire. I stamped it out before it could reach the autumn leaf, which I set among a section of green leaves only paces away.

‘I’m so confused...’ My mind began to wither as I settled down onto my belly this time. ‘My best friend... Was she forced to leave me, or did she want to?’ I began to whip up crazy ideas; what if she had to make it look like she was betraying me when, in reality, she needed me to think that for future plans? Her trainer could have discovered a resistance to Team Rocket and applied to be a member, signing Izante up as one of his pokémon, so he could work from the inside. He could never have told me or my trainer because he didn’t want us involved or hurt. I devised more theories—ones about how evil pokémon like that garchomp were being brought from some other planet, and Izante had to pretend to be part of Team Rocket to gain insight on them. It was possible she hadn’t yet made up her mind; the most plausible of my theories was that she signed up to be a part of Team Rocket, but she realised it wasn’t how she was told it would be. Maybe she wanted to quit, and soon she would come crashing through the forest blurting apologies and begin licking me half to death.

But as I waited...no leafeon came. I was singled out as I lay alone, and I felt my tail curl around my side, my head lowering to my paws. “Oh, Izante... I don’t understand.” My fur became wet in streaks as tears weaved between every hair on my face. My head shot back up and I let loose a cry of despair; what in the world was my best friend thinking?! Didn’t she want to return to me so we could amend our separation and return home? To our masters?

As my head spun repeatedly, my tears forming a constant but steady stream, I was bombarded by more questions, and I was hardly able to think about each one, let alone answer them all. “Izante...” While I scanned the stars once more through teary sight, I began to drift. My heart sank, my head following. My conscience would lull me to sleep, and all I had to do was listen...

***

“Poke her!” someone insisted.

“No, you poke her!” another voice protested.

“I asked you first,” pointed out the first one. “Are you too torchic?”

“N-no!” declined what sounded like a very young male’s voice.

At first I was confused and a little disoriented. Without making any indication that I was awake, I lifted one of my eyelids, scanning the upright pokémon’s bodies silently. I sensed no trace of hostility, and therefore it was safe to lie in my position and wait for something to happen. I could only imagine these were colony kids, or young from a family nearby.

I watched as the male hid his face by turning to his left in embarrassment, and the other, a female – who was standing nearly out of view – chuckled spitefully. “Come on!” she prompted, and the male pouted but obliged, facing me. I quickly shut my eyes, masking my awareness yet again and listened for the smooth hairs of the pokémon’s pelt to come in contact with mine. It would be an amusing moment.

Just when the time was right and the pokémon was near – too near – I made a startlingly sudden movement, yelling, “SCARY FLAREON!”

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed the terrified buizel, huddling together with their backs plastered to the tree behind them. Their expressions were unbelievably hilarious, and they looked like they’d seen ghost pokémon!

“Hahaha!” I let out in response, sitting up straight.

The two remained silent as their gaping mouths closed and the female seemed less frightened. She fluffed herself up and shakily asked, “A-are you the flareon...s-staying with our colony?”

I stood up and shook off. “See any other flareon around?” I raised my eyebrow fur. The buizel’s eyelids dropped and she looked still wary yet marginally annoyed.

“N-no!” she retorted, slightly offended.

I flashed a smug grin, getting to my paws and scanning the area. A few paces to my left lay a charred circle of ground; I knew how that happened. The stars had cleared off and clouds replaced them in vastly different forms. The world was still dark, and I knew it was just prior to dawn. The trees were refreshed and waking from their sleeps, swaying contently. I was in a similar state; I imagined I would wake up to feel groggy and rather cheerless, but it was a new day, and I would never get to relive it again. Nevertheless, it was still early, and a chance for a nap before sunrise would surely not escape.

“What are you doing out here?” queried the male buizel, and I looked to him, noticing he wasn’t the same one that I had to babysit at the daycare.

“I was sleeping until these two water types woke me up.” I threw a narrowed-eye expression to the duo, but they guessed I wasn’t being serious, and the male seemed to loosen up a tad. “Do you guys have names?”

“O-of course,” the female snapped, and I only rolled my eyes at her while hanging onto an amused smile.

“I’m Skop and this is Flop,” Skop informed calmly, holding out a paw to indicate his friend.
Flop shot him a piercing glare, and I was glad I wasn’t the target of that look! “Skop,” she hissed, speaking through bound teeth, “don’t give strangers our names!”

“I’m no stranger if I’m gonna be living with you guys,” I interjected matter-of-factly. Flop seemed highly unimpressed, and Skop was still cowering from the attack on his very innocence. “So...you guys are brother and sister, I take it?”

“Twins,” Flop correctly quickly, and for the first time I noticed that both of their back paws were half cream, the same colour as their undersides among other features. They were nearly identical; in fact, I was having trouble finding any distinguishing features. They were both the same height, their pelts were the same hue, their tails the same size, their arm fins the same shape...

‘I guess they call ‘em ‘twins’ for good reason!’

“Why are you out here?” Skop tilted his head curiously.

“Well... I slept here.”

“Why?”

“Because I prefer...my space,” I answered plainly. I didn’t need to share my feelings with him.

“Isn’t it better to sleep where other—”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you, squirt?” I narrowed my eyes, flicking my tail – or what I had of it – and the buizel cocked his head again as I addressed him. I felt my bandages begin to slip as I rose and stretched, turning to begin making my way back to the colony. I could probably crash at Zhol’s before the rest of the pokémon woke up. At that moment I was probed with a question of my own. “...Why are you two out here?”

Flop just huffed and took her brother by the paw. They spun and disappeared into the forest; the last glimpse of eye contact was shared between me and Skop seconds before he was whisked away by his sister.

“...Whatever,” I grunted with indifference, and began my path back to the colony.

I had a few minutes of silence before my ears twitched. I flicked my eyes from side to side without shifting my head, padding cautiously through forest undergrowth. More rustling was apparent and I quickened my pace, setting my eyes on each tree trunk as I passed beside them.

Seizing the chance, I whirled around and fired a flamethrower, hearing a surprised vocal noise. Before the flames could clear, I found myself still after a rumble sounded from behind me. I sighed, annoyed with myself for not sensing any other pokémon before the worse happened. I smelled earth and rock, and a pokémon roughly my size materialised from the smoke before me. He was dark grey with silver plates and stood on four legs. As he shook off, I took note of his icy blue eyes and the steel bracelets hugging his ankles. The lairon narrowed his eyes before I jerked my head to the left. A pokémon of different shades of grey trudged closer, his threatening tusks a compliment to his strong trunk. His stubby legs managed to carry him all the way to my side.

“You,” the donphan grunted with a cocky edge to his voice. “Calm your sweet little self down. All we want is some answers. You co-operate and things won’t have to get ugly.” He wasn’t intentionally threatening, and I realised that the ‘cocky edge’ was merely the way he spoke. He seemed somewhat reasonable despite his words.

“Ugly how?” I tested, excited despite my being outnumbered. “How do you know I don’t have reinforcements waiting to spring you now?” The side of my face rose into a daring smile.

The trio let amused chuckles fill the air around their mouths before the ground type answered, “Because I can tell when a pokémon’s bluffin’.” He made a movement with his trunk to whatever scum had my back covered, and to my surprise he stepped away. I wasn’t sure if that was an indication that I was allowed to go – which seemed unlikely – or what. “If it makes things easier for you, Kuzi here won’t stand so close.”

I flung my head over my shoulder to identify my capturer: he was a rhyhorn. Very sturdy and seemed like solid, plated rock on four legs, complete with a horn and determined eyes. “Good,” I replied, wondering what in the world these pokémon wanted. They weren’t readied for battle, and didn’t seem overly hostile—not towards me, at least.

“First question—and don’t even think about lying to us,” the lairon warned, his deep voice more intimidating than the donphan’s. “Do you or do you not know a male houndoom?”

My brow furrowed. ‘A houndoom?’ Figuring I had nothing to lose, I answered, “Well, I...” I stopped. I was unsure about the question’s nature. If I said I did and gave them his previous location, perhaps I would be endangering him. Not that I had a reason not to pay him out. “Not personally, no.” Still unsure of their intentions, I asked a question of my own. “Why do you wanna know?”

“We ask the questions, not you,” the lairon hissed.

“Gee, nobody taught you manners, did they?” I murmured to myself, to which he growled:

“What?”

But the donphan only chuckled. “Answers before questions,” he told me.

I thought about that for a second. “Alright, then... No. I don’t know a male houndoom.”

The lairon stepped forward and rumbled, “Don’t lie!”

I proceeded to occupy the space behind me with a leg of my own, growling, “Don’t assume I am.”

“I’ll do what I like, flareon.”

“It’s Dusty.”

At this point the donphan took his place between us. “I beg your pardon, miss, but we haven’t been properly introduced. The name’s Cutch. And this is Krenta and Kuzi.” He motioned with his trunk to the lairon and the rhyhorn respectively. “You see, we’re after this houndoom character for his sneaky and traitorous habits. He has something that I want.”

My suspicion moved in like a cloud of mist, and I asked with amused, narrowed eyes, “And what would that be? Treasure? His head?”

“Heh heh!” Cutch chuckled again. “This kid ain’t bad!” His eyes met with his comrades before he settled back to me. “If you think o’ somethin’, I’ll be ‘round.”

‘Hmm,’ I thought once they moved off in the opposite direction I was travelling, watching all three tails (so to speak—Kuzi was short on such a thing) disappear between increasing foliage. Shrugging, I spent the whole way back shuffling between possibilities how that houndoom had managed to get himself into trouble with pokémon that didn’t look too forgiving. ‘No doubt he did something shameless like steal.’

Entering the colony’s grounds, I took note that not a single pokémon occupied the open space. The campfire had burned out, of course, and all that remained were memories of last night; berry juice and dried fat lay in spots on logs and the bland packed soil. I didn’t pay it further attention before striding towards Den Row when a sudden thought revived itself and prodded my brain. ‘Oh...I was supposed to check up on Splash to make sure he was okay this morning,’ I realised, changing my course of direction and passing Den Row rather than travelling up the path. I headed toward the southeast boarders where I would encounter the fruit shack thing, which was where I was told I’d find the pokémon standing guard.

“Each member of the colony takes turns in checking up on Splash, because he guards the shed every night,” Ikari had told me after discussing the daycare job with me. I thought it typical that I would be blessed with the responsibility of checking on him early each morning for a week.

‘Lucky those buizel woke me up. I would have forgotten otherwise.’

As I approached the shed, I remembered that it was the place I crashed the first time I turned up at the colony. I wondered why, if Splash was on guard that night (since he supposedly was every night), he didn’t stop me. I wasn’t sure, but I hadn’t met Splash, so I didn’t know what he was like, either. In fact, I’d forgotten what kind of pokémon he was.

Padding closer, I casually rounded the left side of the shack and appeared before its entrance. A somewhat aqua pokémon was standing mindlessly beside it, seeming to be off in a daze before turning to me with a wide, blank smile.

“Uhh... Hey...Splash,” I began slowly, his eyes focused on me with an innocent but hollow stare. As he kept staring, I turned around hesitantly, spying nothing else that the quagsire could have fixed his gaze onto. “Um... Are you alright?”

The water and ground type continued his silent behaviour, and just as I was about to spin ‘round to leave, he blurted, “Quaaaaaag.” And that was all.

“Um...okay?” I was at a loss for words before saying, “What...what does that mean? Is it...some kind of ancient quagsire dialect?” It must have been. Either that or he was messing with me.

“Quaaag,” he repeated, his contentment apparent as he turned and faced the forest once more, his tail merely an inch away from the wooden wall of the shed. His front paws were kept resting on his belly and his smile remained, much to my confusion. I figured I would ask someone else about his strange nature later, but in the meantime I could rest.

Skipping happily across the field of open land before I would reach Den Row or the strip of forest separating it from the daycare’s side of the land, I noticed that the Sun still hadn’t risen. The clouds had begun drifting at their leisurely pace across the sky, leaving a trail of broken cloud particles which hurried to catch up again. Bird pokémon’s chirps were only just beginning, but I knew they wouldn’t wake the villagers; their songs were often peaceful and hardly loud, and these pokémon were used to the outdoorsy sound of nature. So was I, of course, although there was the odd occasion of sleeping in a poké ball...which was impossible again until I returned to Master.

Passing the strip of trees separating two sections of the colony’s land, I heard that infamous rustle. Figuring it was a baby pokémon, I ignored it. However, my ears wouldn’t be put to rest as more sounds and subtle voices whispered from between the trees, and I became suddenly suspicious. My first assumption was of the houndoom I already held a grudge against, and who was apparently in trouble with other pokémon equally as grudging. ‘Hang on... Why would that houndoom be talking to himself? And if he was talking to someone else, who?’ My fur stood on end as I sensed that whoever was behind the cluster of trees starting off the strip of forest was not someone I knew, and neither was it someone welcome.

Just as I went to spit out a threat, I leapt backwards at the sight of long, stringy vines. They were suspended in mid air, and it took me longer than it should have to register that they were controlled by a pokémon—a grass type. Without hesitation I unleashed a stream of fire at them, but they recoiled quickly and disappeared within the trees. The chatter had subsided, and as I went to take a collection of steps in reverse, my limbs seized up. It felt as though I was paralysed, and, well...I must have been! ‘I...I can’t move!’ A rush of desperation zipped through my bloodstream, and I knew I was at a major disadvantage. ‘If only it had been that darn houndoom! And where are those ground, rock and steel types when you need them?!’

To my surprise, not two, but three figures emerged from within the trees, each a different size, type and species—not your usual pack mates or group of friends. The first to appear was tiny and must have only come up to my mane. He was round and cream, and on his body were triangular patterns. He grinned a surprisingly malicious grin for someone so small and innocent-looking, and I suffered a moment of chills.

The next pokémon was a Mr. Mime. He was much taller, had sections of pink and white, and was shaped similarly to a human. His blue head fur sprouted from each side in a scraggly, unkempt manner, yet remained stiff. He was concentrating on something close to me judging by his body language and line of sight, and it was only a matter of moments before I discovered he was using psychic powers on me to restrict my movements.

The third pokémon to reveal himself was somewhat stout and resided on four stumpy legs, and I instantly knew he didn’t fit in with his colleagues. His vines were exposed and ready to strike, coming from the opening bud on his back. As soon as our eyes met, my breathing became caught within my throat. He flinched with genuine surprise, and I instantaneously realised that I knew him. His wide eyes and lack in movement twisted in a corrupt exchange of eye contact before I took the liberty of issuing a lengthy inhalation. I couldn’t help but stammer, and I could tell he knew what was coming.

“...Sed?”


------
*NOTE: The mention of "Sky Warriors" has absolutely no relevance or connection to the pokémon movie Giratina and the Sky Warrior, as I haven't even seen it. xD

[Suicune's Fire]

BOOK TWO: UNCOVERED

Chapter Twenty-one: Confrontation

‘N-no... It...it can’t be happening. Not again,’ I told myself helplessly, but I was quickly losing faith.

The Mr. Mime managed a grin amidst his concentration, and the togepi kept his broad as he opened his mouth. “So, you know our colleague, do you?” he asked, and I couldn’t help but wish I wasn’t constricted by any kind of rotten bind. I wanted to fry that pokémon like the egg he was.

Sed, now evolved, was a timid ivysaur barely different to his previous self as a bulbasaur. However, there was a certain fire in his eyes. At first I mistook it for passion, but suddenly I realised it was nothing positive. ‘Revenge.’

“It...it was your fault!” he bleated hysterically, his face contorted with betrayal and agony. He looked uncared for, and I could only imagine what he had gone through. Still, I was obliged to ask.

“Sed...what happened to you? I...I thought you were...”

“Dead?” the togepi intervened, and I threw a glare at him—as best I could in my condition.

“I thought...Team Rocket...” I swallowed, hardly willing to admit my thoughts. “...I thought they executed you.”

The statement only brought forth the ivysaur’s anger, and it was entirely directed towards me. “Shut up!” he screamed, and at that point I realised he was still just a child. When we had met, he’d told me he had only been with his trainer for two weeks before Team Rocket got a hold of him. From my experience, I was led to believe that the pokémon that trainers receive as their official firsts were fairly young when obtained, and no more than two weeks had gone by since I had last seen Sed, making him still very young.

“Sed, listen to me. You don’t have to do this.”

“You don’t know anything,” he answered in a deep and wounded voice, his head low and his pupils partly obscured because of his angle.

“If we’re done here,” interrupted the togepi, glancing to the Mr. Mime.

The psychic type relaxed and all at once I was free. “Aah,” he began, “that really gets the mind flowing.”

Before I had the chance to take a step to flee, Sed’s vines rocketed towards me at a speed I wasn’t aware a grass type could possess, and I was once again constricted. I was shocked to find that he had not wound his vines up my torso or bound my legs, but my neck. The seriousness of the situation dawned on me as a poisonous wave swept through my veins; this ivysaur was scarred. And I had been the one to make the mark, whether I meant to or not. It was me that condemned him to his life as it was now, and, in his confused and merciless state, I felt momentarily frightened.

“Sed,” I breathed, suddenly realising I was short of breath. My eyes grew and my limbs began flailing, although a use of too much energy would result in a shortage of the amount I reserved for surviving my hanging. “Sed!” The pressure began building, and I felt my eyes dampen as they slowly began leaking. Panic slashed my insides as my toes straightened and my fear instigated shivers. I could inch only a tiny gasp of air through my throat as the vines ceased to tighten, the ivysaur’s face alight with pure hatred. My lungs threatened to burst as my head screamed; my brain thumped restlessly inside my skull whilst my panic swelled like a serious injury. The pressure expanding in my head gripped me as if a mighty snorlax was squeezing the blood from my face. I struggled harder, my jaws tightly compressed and my desperation increasing without rest. I longed to scream at him again, but the only thought occupying my mind was raw fear; I could die as a result of strangulation, and that information itself was deadly enough.

“What’s wrong?” the togepi sneered, his eyes fixed on my struggle as he upheld his grin. “Can’t breathe?” I choked and blinked out more tears; it was horrifying to know that this sick togepi found pleasure in witnessing me suffer. On top of that, he looked barely older than a child!

The best response I managed between fits of struggle and a further river of tears was a spray of flames that slipped between my teeth which barely ended a pace in front of me. My pain was similar to that of the armaldo incident, although vines were the culprit this time rather than water. However wrong the place and time was, I found it ironic that opposite elements could have an identical effect on the same target.

“Sed,” the Mr. Mime muttered, “that’s enough.” He was still mildly amused, but the feeling seemed to slip from his face as Sed’s intensity failed to pacify. After a moment without a reaction, his tone leapt to a somewhat sturdy one. “Sed. I order you to stop.” But the ivysaur’s rage couldn’t be dulled, and his indignation burned more furiously as his face only seemed to twitch with more contempt than before.

“It’s your fault,” he spat, saliva seeping from his mouth and spattering the soil. I instantly recalled that the same sentence had been screamed from his lips the last time we’d seen each other; it was difficult to forget. I would have found his unforgiving expression contorted with pain and feelings of betrayal heartbreaking had he not had such a serious advantage over me; due to the current hierarchy, those things were only all the more frightening.

“Sed,” the Mr. Mime growled in a harsher manner, the vitality in his voice streaming clearly through. “You know we need her alive.” His pressing eyes warned even me of the apparent importance of my life, but with my increasing loss of consciousness, it was hard to tell what was what anymore.

The Mr. Mime made a move to repeat Sed’s name, but he was cut off by the piercing seeping sound of poisonous spores launching into the air. Step by step the purple haze erupted in plumes to envelop the space directly around the ivysaur’s body, and as it drifted closer, I could only feel my heart hammer as my ribs attempted to keep it contained. I barely noticed the Mr. Mime back away as the poison spread to the air surrounding him as well, and he threw his forearm under his eyes to mask his mouth.

Sed’s sanity didn’t hesitate to disintegrate sections at a time, and the realisation that this could be my end taunted my mind while I could do nothing but live the nightmare. The situation was no longer centred around Sed, but me. I was at the receiving end of his rage, and he showed no sign of letting up.

I couldn’t take any more. My insides were bursting with a need to breathe while my brain expanded to the point where it was forcing the edges of my skull apart; my vision blurred, all signs of oxygen inhalation came to a halt, and my flailing died down. My connection with reality mollified, as did my cognitive and physical functions. I could literally feel myself shutting down, and it was then that I truly believed I was on the brink of death.

Thankfully it appeared that someone wouldn’t allow that.

A shot of sickly dirt and gunk projected itself into the vines, striking with the advantage of unexpectedness and caused them to fling me into the trees nearby. I had been released! The joys of oxygen returned to me, but I knew my strength was failing and I could do nothing to stop myself from becoming tangled with branches and restless leaves.

I thought I had fainted as my eyesight plunged into blackness and my limbs seemed to go numb. Only seconds later did the pins and needles set in, and I was suddenly at the mercy of my own bodily functions. The needles stung and tickled fiercely at the same time; it was one of the weirdest feelings a pokémon could feel—besides evolving. My vision took its time to return, but in the meantime, my ears detected sounds of battling, and another pokémon appeared. As soon as I heard speech I identified her as Azure, and by her surprised mentioning of Splash, I’d say it was his gushing water attack that saved my hide. Although my sight and muscles weren’t fit for aiding me, my speech still functioned.

“Azure!” I shouted hoarsely, feeling the effects of a sore throat when trying to speak. “Get rid of them!” I would have said more, but I was hardly in a suitable state.

It wasn’t long before I heard padding and more voices, and I knew reinforcements had arrived before I happened to slip into a spiral of unconsciousness.

***

I murmured myself awake and proceeded to sit up quicker than I should have. The world spun as my eyes failed to maintain a clear view, and I was forced to lean forward on my front legs as I began to recover.

“You’re up,” commented Zhol, and I was immediately reminded of how Izante had an annoying tendency to state the obvious, especially as it happened. With Zhol it wasn’t so abundant, however.

“I am,” I responded wearily, happy to find no new bandages. “Where are we?”

“This is my home,” the sneasel told me steadily. She kneeled before me and seemed ready to help if I needed it.

“Nice...house.” I lifted my head and scanned the room, noting pretty much what I saw in everyone else’s. One corner was iced over and had an ominous icy steam radiating from its surface, and I nearly admired it before becoming disgusted by its existence. “How does that stay unmelted?” I questioned, a slight frown patting my face.

The sneasel rose, inhaled slowly and forced a shaped spray of freezing air. As it made contact with the ice, the particles solidified and the clump had no choice but to double in size. I shuffled back a pace or two, and she seemed to flinch, resting a cautious gaze upon me. I could tell she was uneasy about my reaction, and it became evident that she feared she had done something wrong as she continued her almost-worried look. She gave the ice a few seconds of attention before presumably switching back to me, but by that time I’d looked away.

I was disorientated. I felt marginally cold, which was unusual for me, and the streaming sunlight reaching me through slits between the logs told me it was no longer the time of the night hunters. It was morning. Last I remembered, I had been strung up in a tree and a few members of the colony – Splash, Azure, and others – had been fending off the invaders. Or ambushers. Or whatever they were.

Wiping my eye with a paw, I turned to Zhol. “What are you doing here?”

She adopted a shred of perplexity and melded it with her face. “This is my home,” she simply stated with edged concern.

“No, I mean—why are you here now? Don’t you have other duties?”

She must have been unknowing about the nature of my question. “I stayed to ensure your safety,” she answered as if I’d offended her slightly.

“Oh, I—I just...didn’t know.” I shrugged, pushing a sigh between my lips. “It’s nice of you to wait for me to...greet the morning,” I half-heartedly chuckled.

“Yes, well... You were out for the entire night. You were brought to me upon the fleeing of some intruders, and you’ve been asleep ever since. I assumed you’d been unconscious by violent means to begin with, and that you’d combined your unconsciousness with sleep.” She stopped to feel herself breathe, staring at me with nothing more than an informative face. It was a moment before she averted her eyes and uttered, “Anyway. I best leave,” and pressed against the wall to hoist herself upright. The question of why she wasn’t in the clinic resting sprung to my mind before I figured she must have gotten treatment for her wounds after Shard escorted her to the clinic the night before, and that she returned to the comfort of her home shortly after. It was either that, or she refused to leave me unattended at her home.

“Zhol,” I began, and she looked without emotion. “You shouldn’t be out and about in your state.” I rose to my paws and stood before her, adamant about my decision. “Don’t tell me you’re fine, or that you can handle yourself. You need rest. You’re a strong pokémon, but—”

“I’m going to Aemara’s clinic,” she mumbled, her tone clouded with a tinge of blatancy. Although she did manage a smile.

“O-oh...” I began whispering embarrassed apologies as I helped her out, and took her to the clinic where Aemara was waiting. However, as I entered the room, my fur suddenly erected. My nose curled into an instant snarl and my claws seemed to rise, as if prepared to strike at any moment.

On the end table to the left lay a small familiar sphere. The unmistakable patterns branding his irremovable shell called for attention as his tiny arms and legs seemed to sprawl in useless directions. The lack in movement told me he was unconscious, and for that and only that I was thankful. “What the hell is he doing here?” I growled, low-toned and instinctively protective.

Aemara turned in her graceful innocence and raised a hand to her mouth to gasp. She looked about to greet us with wariness when she instead turned only her head towards the egg elevated beside her, and then back to us. “He—he’s injured,” she admitted between swallowing. “I was told to—”

“But he’s the enemy! He attacked us last night!” I spat, taking care to shield Zhol from whatever could happen next. “Him and that Mr. Mime, and—” I cut myself off as I recalled the early morning’s events. I was still preparing to whisper the next word before Aemara dived in.

“His injuries were only minor; he will be moved to another building soon.” The froslass kept her gaze fixed on me, as if waiting for my approval. I only snorted. My fur slowly descended to meet with my skin.

“If his injuries were minor, then why is he being treated instead of Zhol?” I stepped aside, as if to reveal my friend properly, but Aemara’s decision didn’t teeter.

“Dusty, please,” Zhol hissed, and her sudden hint of hostility caused me to reconsider my whole argument.

Only fuelling an awkward situation, I renounced my place and stepped off my branch, touching the ground with suspicious agitation. “Aemara,” I muttered, solid and blunt, “who told you to take him here?”

“...Shardclaw,” she answered after a moment’s hesitation, and I turned my tail and exited the confinement.

Bounding with a clear goal in mind, I aimed to seek out that oversized bug type. ‘I knew I couldn’t trust him,’ I thought bitterly, connecting the dots. ‘He was so damn suspicious of my relations with Luck, and now he’s suddenly put all the injured at risk simply to treat someone not even part of the colony? That togepi is dangerous, and Shard should know it.’ I knew that something was going down. And I had to suss it out. The scyther must have had his reasons, but I was convinced he either didn’t think his decision through, or he had some kind of alternate story behind it.

In hot pursuit of answers, I stormed through the colony with a stumble in my step before reaching where I believed the suspicious pokémon lurked. Following some form of vague trail, I snuffed out his doorstep and whipped my head around, seeing only other colony members about. ‘He was here recently,’ I concluded, speeding in the direction the scent led me. Once I crossed the clearing close to the fire place and passed the tree I had been thrown in, my eyes growled for some form of verbal action. They had captured the image of a sturdy scyther leaning with his sharp scythes against the wooden fence bordering the younglings’ play area.

“Shard!” I barked sharply, catching him unaware as he flicked his body into a fighting stance and eyed me off. He failed to let his guard down as his wings rose and his scythes reflected the dull gleam of the sunlight. His head lowered and his expression conveyed messages of focus and caution. However, his half-arsed facade didn’t fool me. “Why did you let Aemara heal that togepi?” I pressed, skipping formalities.

“He was injured,” he answered, slightly less defensive than I’d expected.

“He’s the enemy,” I snapped.

“Even the opposition deserves a chance at life,” retorted the bug and flying type, and to that I only scoffed.

“Life, maybe, but his injuries were minor. Aemara said so herself.”

“Once the togepi is better, we can interrogate him,” he reasoned, and I thought it over for a mere moment.

“Will you treat him to a fresh drink and a hot meal as well?”

The scyther’s immaturity seemed nonexistent as he barely responded. However, I knew that if he was totally innocent, he would have no reason to hold his form like he was, and it only further confirmed my theory.

The detective in me began to surface as I spoke in a slower and slightly condescending tone. “I’ve learned that your reputation leads you to gain respect amongst the colony members...” I didn’t move as I spoke. If I advanced, he might assume I was challenging him. I was simply responding to his challenge. “You can get as many followers as you like on your side... You can also admit anyone to the clinic and make important decisions on your own grounds. It seems even the leader is under your scythe.”

“You know nothing of this colony,” he hissed, and seemed thinly startled by his own bitterness. Blinking it out, he refocused and I saw the flicker of his nostrils within a few delicate moments. “You have no authority here, and you certainly don’t have the right to accuse me of treason.” He curled his neck and filed his eyes. Their abrupt severity shook even me as I tried to maintain my composure. He closed the space between us by one step, and even such a small portion of our distance removed seemed dramatic. “Don’t think I can’t see through your lies, flareon,” he spat, and in an instant an army of shivers worked their way through every inch of my body. A savage twist sliced at my stomach and I was close to gagging. My eyes lost their confidence and suddenly my armour slipped. Even my toes threatened to give me away as they began trembling under the crushing presence of the fearsome scyther. “I know you’re neglecting something from your convincing tale, and I will be the one to uncover the truth.”

I could do nothing but stare with horror as fear shot through my veins. My fur stood on end as I was cornered with a boulder suspended above and a tidal wave storming closer. Needles from a cactus pinned me against a rock wall, and my muzzle was bound closed by the chains of justice. The ground I felt so sturdy upon began to split. I was trapped.

With a fierce flutter of his wings, Shard sliced into the air and tore his way across the sky, landing short of Wynore’s house. The great ursaring emerged with the tiny teddiursa at her side, and both absent-mindedly greeted Shard as they fixed their gazes to me. My urge to move swelled like a growth as they approached, my eyes flittering and unable to keep still. I must have looked like a fuzz ball as my fur turned to spines and my nose flared with each step they took. The wave was closing in on me, but the needles prevented my movement. A sickening feeling played with my belly, shooting butterfree through my passageways.

“You refuse to enlighten me with the truth,” Shard snarled, following slightly bent with his scythes out in front, “but you owe them an explanation.” Stopping only metres before me, the bug and flying type rotated his spiky head to the left, and his eyes followed the two sienna pokémon take their place beside him. His eyes were wandering and I could tell he wasn’t going to stay; he ushered the teddiursa with the flat sides of his scythes away from her mother and led her to the play pen before she squeezed through a space between the wooden beams.

Realising my place again with the pokémon I had been wary of since my first encounter with her, my claws hid behind rocks and grains of soil willing to unearth. However, the slight breeze was enough to blow the grains away, stripping them bare and sending yet another shiver racing through my body. I hid my embarrassing tail and tried luring my pride to my chest, puffing it bravely and repeating internally that I could hold my ground.

The ursaring’s solid expression was of pure disdain. A frown was carved tactlessly into her features, and her stance spoke of potential brutality and ruthless rage. I nearly jumped as she spoke. “Where is my mate?” she growled without bothering to hide her forwardness. I could basically confirm by her behaviour that she and Shard had been conversing.

My brain turned and I held my lip between my teeth. “I—I told you,” I stammered, swallowing and trying my hardest to keep eye contact. “He fled the ship.”

“Lakane doesn’t flee from things,” she snapped, stomping her right foot. I knew immediately that she was going to get the truth out of me one way or another. She had no intentions of playing me softly, and it seemed that even Shard was willing to turn a blind eye to whatever the ursaring may bestow upon me. Half of me understood his motives, but the other part loathed his sorry hide for calling my bluff.

“Or maybe he helped the other pokémon off the ship,” I reasoned, finding that as a more appropriate explanation.

Wynore fell silent as she contemplated her words carefully. She took a breath. “I truly hope he is alive,” she spat, hardly allowing her sincerity to seep between the gaps of her euphemistic threat. “We have a cub to raise. I look after an entire kindergarten of young. Lakane was Habib’s bodyguard!” she boomed, and my eyes widened in a heartbeat. I caught sight of Shardclaw who, in the distance, seemed to respond to the last sentence. In a panic, I knew I had to reply.

“His death has noth—” I froze. A horrific feeling suddenly swamped my heart.

Death. I said death.

‘She was talking as if he was dead! I completely let it slip—’ However, I saw her mighty paw come down to her side after swatting a fly obscuring her vision. My eyes dropped to its limp body which quickly became lost in the infrequent grass. It was then that I realised she hadn’t heard me. I felt my breath test the air, prodding it as my eyes remained shaky but glued to Wynore’s, and my theory was confirmed. To ensure confidentiality, I flung my head about, and thankfully I spotted no nearby pokémon. I turned back to her and repeated slightly differently, “His disappearance has nothing to do with me. I only helped him fight!”

“Tell me, flareon,” Wynore rumbled, her looming figure forcing me to crane my neck and scuttle frantically back a few paces. Her expression had morphed into a grief-stricken and livid one, and I could clearly read that she was both guilty and moral in her decision to blame me. “How many pokémon did you kill because of this ship incident?”

I was taken aback by the comment. Personally I hadn’t thought of them as deaths, but, rather, necessities. I didn’t really have a word for them. “I didn’t count,” I growled. “And for your information, I only killed when it was imperative.”

“Nidorino, nidorina,” she retorted, comparing my definition with another similar one. Essentially she questioned my definition of justice. “How many of those pokémon had trainers? Homes? Families?!”

My face lost its formation and my jaw was suddenly loose. My ears drooped and my mind returned to the many incidents whose severity was ambiguous. “W-well... I only killed Rocket pokémon. They had the choice to join us or—”

“You KILLED them!” she roared, forming some kind of invisible sphere between her two palms as she held her clawed weapons suspended at her belly.

“Killed...” I whispered, feeling my head rattle from side to side. “No...no... I protected the innocents and slayed the evil.”

“You murdered humans too,” she accused, her face clouding over with hatred.

“N-no!” I held my teeth before admitting, “Y...yes...”

“All vine whip users—throw the humans off board, along with any pokémon that try to oppose us!”

I halted, witnessing a Rocket man being tossed over the side a few metres up ahead. He yelled all the way down, being silenced by a splash. The wind whipped around our small group, almost chilling me.

I barely noticed as I crept closer, taking in the deep claw gashes that ran slashed across the human’s neck. His metal gun sat alone and separated from his hand. Cerise blood stained his uniform, and a dense pool soaking his black hair and hat had formed from the wound’s leakage.

“It was kill or be killed!” I shouted, a new sense of guilt laying itself onto what already plagued my mind. My head restarted its shaking. “I...I had to! And I had to destroy the ship afterwards...”

Her glare drilled itself through the barriers my skull was supposed to maintain, twisting parts of my brain and constricting my heart with the unravelled structures.

“You had to do nothing!”

“You destroyed the ship?” a voice spiked, and I jumped to find the infamous scyther join our ever so joyous conversation.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, capturing more space as I stepped backwards, losing my grip on sanity.

“Did you let everyone escape?” he pressed, following my movements as he too towered over my frail form. “Or did you leave some on board?”

“STOP!” I screamed, binding my eyes and clenching my jaws.

“I knew I never should have trusted you!” the scyther roared, his wings beating furiously. “Fire types can’t be trusted! You’re all the same; your fire is deadly, and your spirit is no different.”

“Lakane is dead because of you!” Wynore raged, chancing a swipe and scooping the space a hair away from my tuft.

“All those other pokémon...those humans,” Shardclaw highlighted, stabbing me with each word. His voice was tainted with the disgust of a million pokémon.

“You killed him!” she screeched, landing a hit as her great paw beat the side of my face. With devastating force, I was thrown metres before rolling to a halt. Stones pricked me as sticks stabbed my wounds; blades of grass cut my eyes and the soil forced itself into my mouth.

My paws seized as my legs started their violent vibration, my jaws so tightly interlocked that I could have shattered my teeth. A stream of tears stained my face, pooling beneath me as my bandages lay limply hanging from my flesh. I was suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion combining grief and guilt, slaughtering my only hope for redemption.

“Tell us,” Shard demanded scathingly, baring his deadly set of fangs.

My nose continued to fizz as my eyes bled their painful liquid, and I blubbered with uncontrollable consistency. The never-ending abyss I had fallen hopelessly into was not going to end upon my request. “I...I...can’t.”

A weight flattened itself along my back with impetuous force, and I jerked as my breath suddenly left me.

“Confession will release you,” Shard tempted, appearing inches from my left.

“Tell us what happened to Lakane!” Wynore thundered, increasing the measure of power applied to her leg.

However, I couldn’t respond. Beside my anguish and inability to unchain my secret, it had become impossible to gather the air to push out a response. I began to relive the horrid events that had occurred only that morning, and I knew my body was incapable of yet another torture session involving a lack in oxygen inhalation.

My problem was fixed as the ursaring released her hold on me, although I felt no more luxury as she scrunched her claws around my mane and lifted me from the ground. My legs wiped the ground before hanging without a stone of support, and I pierced the air with a squeal of discomfort. Naked fear contaminated my conscience, launching spears of serious self doubt into the depths of my mind. I wanted to tell them... I didn’t want to lie! Master had always told me lying was a misdeed that nobody should ever have to do commit... However, I was on trial for much more than just lying.

“You murdered pokémon who got in your way... You didn’t think of their needs or their reasons for fighting.” The scyther circled me, halting smoothly once he reached each side of the ursaring’s body. Never faltering or losing a grasp of his temper, he kept his imprinted glare of scorn and suspicion as his interrogation continued. I was no different to that togepi. “Did you even give them a chance?!”

“ANSWER ME!” the ursaring raged, thrusting my wilted body to the ground.

The wind was knocked from my chest, and the continuous tears wove between every strand of fur as my pain increased. Finally I snapped, scrambling from the threatening monsters and shrieking, “OKAY! I ADMIT IT!” They fell silent, holding their sneers until I spoke again. “I...” On the verge of spilling the secret of Luck’s death, I attempted to contain it. However, my ability to do so was waning, and it was only a matter of time before I exposed the truth and stripped myself of any dignity I may still have stowed between the cracks of my heart. Cramming my trust in the jaws of words, I whimpered, “I killed...many pokémon.” I had prolonged my confession once more.

Shard’s anger nearly overtook him as he raised his scythes and boomed, “That’s not what you were going to admit!”

His seriousness frightened me to my core as he looked ready to bring them down, when suddenly a blur knocked him clean off his feet. Our combined shock was enough to influence the mightiest of pokémon; for a moment I had myself convinced that one of the togepi’s deadly accomplices had returned to seek vengeance, but as soon as the scyther and the blur rolled to a stop, I gasped. Shard was unwilling to raise his blades to the pokémon pinning him down, and his anger was temporarily shelved. Nothing but shock seemed to occupy his mind. Wynore’s reaction hardly differed.

“Zhol!” cried someone from behind me. I rotated my head to view a worried raticate holding her paws to her face before scurrying past me and to her friend’s aide. I barely knew what to make of the situation.

“Answers!” the sneasel roared through anger and confusion. I wasn’t in a position to view her face, but rather the back of her, as she sat warningly on the scyther’s chest.

Shard’s face returned to a less severe version of what he beat me with, and it was clear that he feigned innocence. “You should be resting,” he responded with a mix of concern and frustration.

“What were you doing to her?” she growled, arching her back as her face neared Shard’s. I found myself blinking out my tears and exhaling a great breath of relief. Her concern for my welfare was utterly flattering, especially in such a situation. At the same time, however, when she found out of my misdeeds, it was clear that I would be framed as the villain and even she would accuse me of my lack in responsibility and honesty.

“Zhol,” Shard began gravely, lowering his tone as his eyes flicked from me to her again. “You can’t trust this pokémon. She’s—”

“I said,” she hissed coldly, her pressing tone striking me as extremely outraged, “what were you doing to Dusty?!”

“She lied to us!” Wynore stepped in, curling her claws to somehow emphasise her point. “She lied to the whole colony.”

Zhol’s position didn’t dissipate as she continued to listen. I could only picture her doubting face. That alone was enough to make me want to flee and never return. She had faith in me, and that was about to be shattered.

Shard snorted but didn’t make an attempt to resist Zhol’s actions. “We believe that she is hiding something.” He passed me his frightening stare, but I quickly rejected it as I searched the back of Zhol’s head for some sort of comfort. I needed her eyes. “She may not even be who she says she is.”

“I know who she is,” Zhol uttered bluntly, holding her position before removing her strong claws from the section of arm connecting Shard’s scythe with his shoulder. Silently she shuffled off him and rose to her uninjured foot, moving her head half way to meet eyes with Wynore. She found Gigin for support and turned slowly around, meeting my gaze for but a moment before murmuring for me to follow her back to the clinic.

Shame glazing my entire face, I heaved myself up and followed sluggishly behind.

***

My head hung from my shoulders as the darkened streaks of fur marking my face told of my recent emotions. My eyes occasionally wandered the clinic’s interior to spot Zhol, Aemara and Gigin soundly making amends to Zhol’s injuries. I had forgotten that she was half lame, and because of her kind-hearted actions only minutes before, she had stressed her wound to the point of its reopening. It was clear that Gigin had been propping her up on her way to where we resided, and as soon as her eyes fell upon the situation, she took matters into her own claws and zipped to my presumed rescue. I had cost yet another pokémon their futile effort; I was positively cursed, and yet I would still be blamed.

“Your bandages,” began Aemara softly, her delicacy almost strange compared with my previous encounter with the colony’s pokémon. She hovered towards me, but as she decreased our distance to that of a few paces, I cringed, withdrawing into myself and turning my head from her. She stopped, her body beginning to sway as it caught up with her mind. I fixed my gaze on a grain of dirt coloured differently to those around it, drawing my paws in as my tail attempted to wrap itself around them. Half a tail was hardly substantial.

I sensed her backing away once she ended her period of stillness, and floated back to Zhol. I heard shuffling and a soft click, and could only imagine that she had lay a foot on the ground after climbing from an elevated bed. She approached unevenly, leaning against the raticate. “Come on.”

I waited for them to leave and after a moment’s hesitation, I picked myself up and trudged after them. I caught sight of a few pokémon as I made my way to Zhol’s home, noticing their intrusive stares. It was as if Shard and Wynore had already spread news about my untrustworthiness, and all the pokémon of the colony were growing to condemn and even hate me. I had betrayed them all during the late hours of the previous night, and not one of them deserved treatment installing false hope into their hearts.

After we entered Zhol’s house, the sneasel requested that Gigin left. She did so with no more than a nod, and repeated the same action to me before scuttling from the rectangular hut. I could hear the bustling of Den Row as I sat silently, eying my paws as I waited for the moment Zhol would interrupt and begin accusing me. I played with the insides of my lips using my fangs, searching for tissue I could tear off and chew without creating a wound.

“What did you tell them?”

I felt my jaws slide together and my eyelids meet, my ears stiff and my nose quivering. I was reluctant to answer; saying the wrong thing would surely result in disaster. Zhol was the only friend I properly had in this colony, and I didn’t want to foil our friendship so early. I had already lost my best friend. Losing her as well was a frightening thought. ‘The least you can do is answer her,’ I growled inwardly, knowing full well that I owed her that. “I told them...” Ashamed and bitter, I muttered, looking up, “That Luck went missing.”

To my surprise, she didn’t comment immediately. Instead she seemed to shift through reasons why that would be my choice of words, and ended with a scowl. “That was wrong.” She let her head wander in agitation before returning it. “You only prolong their suffering. They have to know the truth.”

“I couldn’t!” I barked defensively, suddenly displaying stress. My breathing rate increased, and my front paws became separate. “I couldn’t tell them about him. He’s their family. If I found out my family was dead, I’d...” Images of my master flashed behind one eye and moved to the next just as fast.

“You wouldn’t want to be kept from the truth, either,” she retorted. I knew she was disappointed. That was one of the worst feelings I could have added to my list. She must have thought I was a cruel fool.

“But, I...” I lost my words. I wasn’t sure how I felt. I knew I was guilty, ashamed and greatly saddened! Yet I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to break it to the colony or not.

More seriously, she lowered her tone. “It isn’t your right to keep the colony in the dark.”

Suddenly my mind returned to Shard, and my paws tinkered with desperation. I became restless as my gaze wouldn’t hold and my face began to twitch with confusion. I began to scamper into the corner and steadied myself so I wouldn’t continuously shake. “I know!” I shouted, feeling the tears beginning to well once more. I felt as if I was brewing a fire storm that was likely to explode any moment, my eyes blurring and my nose undergoing an odd sensation. “I know... But, I... I didn’t know what to do, Zhol...”

After moments of immobility, the dark and ice type edged towards me, finishing her movement as soon as she must have felt she was close enough. I wept silently once again, and I could tell Zhol wasn’t sure how to comfort me. Feeling the steely but somehow comforting touch of her claws on my shoulder, I flinched, only to relax. Her words were simple and didn’t go unquestioned. “Tell them the truth.”

My stare met hers, my teary eyes choosing the centre of her pupils. I managed a weak, misleading smile that quickly formed a wailing opening, and I slid my head onto her shoulder, raising my right paw to rest on her other. “I’m just so confused,” I whined, drawing a breath between blubbering. “She was my best friend, and she just...left. And now these pokémon have to deal with the loss of their friend...” I tilted my neck, half lying my head on its side as it straightened from her shoulder. “Why is this happening?”

The only response my friend instigated was a left claw resting on the back of my mane and the placement of her head on my shoulder for balance. I sensed her temper quell and her understanding increase, and for that I was thankful. Nobody could ever completely replace Izante, but Zhol was immodestly filling her place.

***

“Tell me,” squawked an enraged bird-like pokémon, her crest rising and her puffy wings fluffing up all the more. Receiving no answer, she fired a dragonbreath onto the togepi strapped to a log, and the normal type screeched in discomfort as the odd flames seared what skin wasn’t obscured by shell. His fixed feet hardly moved, and his arms, in a similar state, were of equal uselessness.

“I told you,” he sneered, “that I’ll only speak to the flareon.”

“We know where you’re from,” she huffed, altering her emotional appearance by a tone. “It’s a hideout in the mountains.”

The togepi released a dark chuckle and mumbled, “You’ll never find it alive.”

Tarla let a grin peck the edge of her beak. “And you just ratted out your comrades.”

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-two: Interrogations

A knock rang throughout Zhol’s home, nearly startling me as I flicked my head towards the door, my tuft bouncing in its place. The sneasel beside me answered and nearly moved to someone’s “Open up,” but I replaced her with a glace and held up a paw to plop into a hole to the left side of the door. I pulled back, staring that annoying altaria in the face. I was tempted to close the door once again, but she quickly screwed her face up and pushed past, narrowly making it through the entrance to address Zhol. She seemed minimally concerned with the sneasel’s medical state, and looked to disregard it before moving on.

“Habib is asking for the flareon,” she started, turning to me for a split second. “If you want her, I’ll send her back after.”

“I always knew you’d be fit as a delivery bird,” I snarled, raising an eyebrow sharply at her. She only returned the gesture with amplified immaturity.

She seemed to forget about Zhol’s reply and turned to exit instead. As she wedged through the doorway, she mumbled, “Hurry up,” and continued down Den Row.

“It’s the Poultry Police,” I remarked sarcastically. Zhol was marginally amused. “I’ll...see you later.” I exited her house and was about to bound off when I stopped myself and stuck my head back in through the doorway. “Thanks.” I shoved the door closed and rushed off, following the obnoxious blue and white cloud with feet. Once I matched her pace, I questioned, “What does he want me for?”

She merely glared flatly at me before uttering, “You’ll find out when you get there.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

The altaria was reluctant to respond, but submitted and replied, “Interrogation.”

I displayed my surprise as I ran through reasons in my head. “What did I do this time?”

“Not you, you fluffy twit,” she uttered, “the togepi.”

I squinted my eyes. “...Huh?”

With a huff and a puff, the flying and dragon pokémon whirled around to block my path, and shouted, “You! You’re going to interrogate that togepi because he refuses to talk to anyone else!” I remained with my head withdrawn and my brow pressing on my eyes. “Get it?” She pulled herself around and led me once more.

“Now that you’ve explained so clearly.”

Blowing a snort through my nose, I picked up my pace and overtook her, listening as she quickened hers in an attempt to catch up. I held my position in front of her for as long as I could before she began to dash, at which point I narrowed my eyes and worked my legs harder. We stayed neck and neck until I was racing and she was soaring; however, the wind favoured her cloud-like wings as it carried her faster, and she arrived well before I did. Panting, I finished behind her, containing a frown and the urge to call her out for somehow cheating. I resisted, however, pushing past her and through the open entrance to Habib’s lair.

My eyes uncovered nothing I didn’t expect until a towering green figure invaded my peripherals, and I shrieked with silent subtlety. A burst of guilt zapped through my blood as Shard’s form took a valid shape. His cold, sharp eyes speared my own as I hurried to avoid him by scampering to the other side of the flying fluff. Warily, my gaze switched back to an oblivious lickitung standing with his arms behind his back and a weak smile pressed quietly into his face.

“Please, take a seat,” he offered, nodding with grace to the stump accompanying my toes. Awkwardly I stepped on, nearly slipped off, and sat down. I assumed his bipedal figure was more suitably built for seats such as stumps. Once I settled in, he began. “I assume Tarla has briefed you.”

I narrowed my eyes as they fell to the altaria. “As best she could.”

Amusingly she stiffened and looked about to retaliate, but her respect for the colony leader won her over and her beak remained shut. Her fury attempted to rake through the leaves between us as I flaunted my half-tail in my devilish smirk.

“Very good,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the silent rivalry sparking at the other end of his table. “The togepi wishes to speak only to you, and therefore it is imperative that you see him as soon as you are able. I’m afraid we must rely on you to extract the information needed: why he came here and who he is working for. It is unfortunate that I must burden you so early into your stay here with us.”

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to comply or not, but it appeared I had no choice. Shard shifted enough to catch my attention, and suddenly I remembered the secret I swore to reveal. If I wasn’t obedient in a time when I was needed, the scyther would surely not be as forgiving as I may hope.

“Tarla has managed to push the prisoner to confess his hideout’s whereabouts,” he explained, resting his arms on the edge of the table. “The expedition party moved out not half an hour ago, and hope to achieve the goal of confirming the lair’s exact location so that we may pass the information on to a more able-bodied clan or colony to handle. They will also assess the security and estimate as best they can a number we – and any other clan that will be willing to band together to defeat them – can prepare for.” His attention settled onto the flying and dragon type nearby, and he added, “Tarla will set out very shortly in an effort to meet up with the party.”

“I...can go as well,” I offered, rather enticed by the prospect of an adventure where possible danger awaited me. I leaned forward as an unconscious action. Tarla’s subtle snort and feather ruffling didn’t escape my notice.

“We hope that, in the event of the togepi revealing all the details we hope you can extract, you may catch up with the party and aid them in carrying out the task.” He blinked with an unnecessary lack in speed, and produced a comforting smile. “The mountains are snowy and best suited for fire types who can keep their bodies heated with running consistency—besides ice types, of course. Having said that, your flamethrower will prove to be quite a useful tool, especially if the case happens to be that you encounter unfriendly ice pokémon.”

I felt my head tilt. “Why would there be unfriendly ice pokémon?”

“Because they live there,” muttered Tarla, louder than she should have. I eyed her side as she perched a few metres from me along the side of the table to where she had waddled. “Pokémon are naturally cautious of territory invasions.”

Habib appeared to disregard her comment and readdressed me. “The pokémon surrounding these parts of our land have of late erected constant barriers to prevent contact from the Rokont Organisation, and have been reportedly very hostile. The hunting trip you, Shardclaw and Zhol went on the other day, for instance, was an example of pokémon that attacked out of fear in a desperate attempt to protect themselves in case you were a threat. By killing some of the pokémon nearby – for hunting or not – you disturbed their peace and caution.”

“...But they didn’t even ask us if we were these Rokont pokémon or not. They just...attacked,” I replied with flat confusion.

“That is why we must adhere to precautions and be more alert than ever before.” He spoke wisely, choosing each word quickly but not without grace or thought. My questions still hung, and, presumably after unearthing them from beneath the surface of my mind, his eyes wondered for a moment as he thought to elaborate. “Reports of attacks and deception have spread through Santoh, and on more than a few occasions has the Rokont Organisation been responsible for them. Many of the syndicate’s minions do not care for stranger safety, and therefore, they take what they want, igniting damage or harm during the process whilst leaving behind no trace of remorse. The pokémon in these parts have begun living in fear, and some, such as the pokémon I heard about from Shardclaw, go to extreme measures to ensure their safety or fortify their defences.”

Brimming with frustrated curiosity, I questioned, “What is the Rokont Organisation?” To me it sounded as if someone had played with Team Rocket’s name and replaced a couple of sounds with new ones.

The aging lickitung connected gazes with Shard, and it was as if they shared a few seconds of telepathic communication. I followed his eyes as they returned to mine. “The Rokont Organisation is said to be partnered with Team Rocket.” I expelled a contemptuous snort, feeling a twinge of fear and sickness in the form of disgust twist in my gut. “Yet it consists solely of pokémon.” He burrowed into the foundations of his mind and my line of sight wandered to the fluffy bird pokémon. Her beak was tightly compressed. “Unfortunately we do not know much more than this. Any information you can gather from this togepi will be highly regarded and welcomed.”

“Where is he?” I asked, out of questions and hardly thinking it necessary to speak my acceptance of the task.

Silence wavered casually before Shard’s movements caught my eye once more. “Come with me,” he uttered.

Habib nodded casually, a smile painting gratitude on the sign his face held for me to read.

We arrived following the minutes between the journey from the colony grounds to a known tree which concealed its trunk with many drooping limbs. The thick leaves and branches provided perfect cover for what it protected: a space of a few metres in each direction from the middle trunk, and in the centre, close to the ground was a small hollow holding the togepi. He was bound by a strong spinarak web which was sticky enough to glue his body against the walls of the hollow, but that didn’t restrict his facial movements any more than his thoughts.

Shard released the branches he had lifted with a straightened scythe to allow me passage, and slipped away after he instructed me to talk with this togepi to seek the required answers. I felt little use in protest, so I nodded my head gravely and watched his stony glare before it was no longer in view. The light suddenly dimmed and I tossed my head about, feeling my tuft jump and settle again as my eyes searched for the specks of sunlight I yearned for to encourage and comfort me.

“And the Sun finally fades,” the togepi hissed with sudden tones of contempt. “Night is the better time, anyway.”

The fur on my spine bristled, and as I stared ceaselessly into the hollow depths of his red eyes, I remembered the incident haunting my thoughts he was so actively involved in. Although he had inflicted no pain himself, he had enjoyed my suffering to the extent of mockery. Clenching my fangs, I felt my jaw pound as the repercussions of Wynore’s paw-mark seared through my cheek. I convinced myself to release the pressure, switching my attention back to what stipulated it.

“Who are you?” I demanded, finding difficulty in a resistance to averting my eyes. I was less than intimidating as I stood without a specific stance, and my voice shook at a level that told my opposition that fearing me would be, if anything, pathetic. It was hardly comforting.

“I would think you’d’ve thought more highly of me than that.” The togepi’s eyes only seemed to skim my untidy and loosening bandages. “What happened there?” He probed, flashing his pupils at my right leg. He looked to another bandage. “And there?”

I was momentarily taken aback, unsure how to respond. This togepi was not easily read, and he knew exactly how to play me, it seemed. An insistent fear crept on its hind legs in circles around us, suddenly bursting from behind the togepi and the tree, proceeding to prowl in unpredictable movements behind me. I had to swallow hard and brush my tail against the ground to suppress my panic.

To my dismay, he next caught site of my half-tail. He smiled with toxic intentions. “I wonder if that’s a battle outcome.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, unaware of my own sensitivity on the matter. I blinked in succession, angling my tail so its invisible missing half was obscured by my body.

He didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. His smile had faded, but his sinister composure didn’t lessen. Without another word passing from within his mouth, I decided to continue.

“How did a togepi like you...get mixed up in business like this?”

The normal type’s face returned to an indifferent glare. “You’re wrong if you think I didn’t want this life,” he responded casually, inhaling to the best of his ability in his constricted condition. “It’s such a...” He trailed of as his eyes wandered, something I hadn’t witnessed them do until then. He switched back to me in a moment, however, continuing, “...satisfying job.”

I suddenly wanted to vomit. An unmentioned sickness bled from my head to my heart, poisoning every cell it passed with the prickle of deadly toxins. A shred of distain divided and dispersed to course through the many pathways of my body. “You make me sick.”

“I don’t care,” he simply replied, shrugging as if he tossed the concept aside like a floppy slab of meat. “My master has taught me to enjoy my work. They say that if you enjoy what you do, you never work in your lifetime.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled irritably, staring without motivation to shift my weight.

I only fuelled his gratification as he influenced a wicked ambiance. “I don’t care much for my teammates – more so that crazy ivysaur – but if you were lost to the syndicate...I think that would be a big waste of talent and use.”

My ears pricked and I was instantly alert. My eyes shot like bullets of a human gun into the averted ones of the togepi’s. “What syndicate?” I began. “Who are they?” Shivers skimmed my fur. ‘And why did he speak as if I was a part of it?’

He seemed to show signs of amusement or excitement – I wasn’t sure which – and I could tell he feasted on the curiosity that clawed at my mind. “Who I work for, of course,” he proclaimed proudly. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do with them sooner than you would like.” To that I frowned, losing my focused stance as dread crawled through my skin. “But don’t worry. You’ll learn to like it just as I have,” the togepi smirked, his voice gliding down a steep slant and grating my nerves. His menacing glare sparked in conjunction with his tone, slashing through my gaze as it challenged my courage.

“You don’t know me,” I responded, less confident than I would have liked. I gave him a quick vertical assessment. “You’re not a psychic type, either. How can you possibly know the future?”

The togepi chuckled without hesitation. “Clearly age isn’t one of our players,” he provoked, teasing my naiveté.

“...What’s that supposed to mean?” I growled, momentarily forgetting the unspoken hierarchy previously enforced.

“Whether you like it now or not, you’re going to join us.” His eyes were closed and he seemed to be musing. “You don’t have a choice when it comes to accepting your place there.”

For a second I imagined he was referring to personal experience, and all at once his hold of intimidation on me slipped from his grasp, knocked against the packed soil and dulled until its glow subsided. My confidence returned as I overcame his barrier, and I shook any doubt in myself that lurked in the catacombs of my thoughts, testing another part of the pond.

“Now it’s my turn to talk,” I demanded, adopting a dominant pose as I neared him with as much offense as defence. He hardly altered his expression. “Now, tell me: where is your hideout in the mountains? We already know it’s there, so don’t try your malicious games with me to try to convince me otherwise.” I jerked my belly and flexed my muscles, warmth steadily generating in the depths of my chest. I kept a consistent breathing pattern and held my body in place.

He showed his teeth once again, and in all honesty, it was beginning to creep me out. A young togepi with as much inexperience with life as he had should not be boasting about the accomplishments that involved the lives he’s tampered with or even extinguished completely. Each time his lips parted in an imperfect curve, I was reminded of the hideous experience he had forced upon me in the company of his accomplices. Sed, presumably just as young and as hastily forced into the malevolent business as this togepi, was, only weeks ago, a pokémon I could freely call a friend. But with little time and an influence clearly strong enough to change his cognition – through whatever means they screwed him over with – he had transformed into a deadly machine capable of overcoming type disadvantages and relatively experienced battlers with the simple exploit of his bottled-up and apparently useful hate. This normal type, tainted by the coercion he would have experienced in the form of punishment or simple persuasion, was forever contaminated with greed for self-satisfaction and the suffering of others.

Before I could digress into an emotional flare-up, the togepi intervened with, “What’s your name?”

I was caught off guard by the generally casual question, and I wasn’t sure if I should openly reveal my identity. However, what was there to lose? He already knew my species and probably had a grasp of my personality. My name was only a fragment of my character. “Tell me yours first.” I had to be dominant, at least.

As if he anticipated this, the normal type willingly answered, “Tooloo.”

“Can I call you ‘Toodleoo’?” I blurted, hardly noticing such a stupid question was hanging from the tip of my tongue.

He seemed oddly stunned and stared before almost stuttering in bewilderment. “As in...the...goodbye word?”

Embarrassed, I scrunched my muzzle and quickly blinked in succession. “It’s Dusty,” I explained. “My name. But you address me as Miss Flareon. Got it?”

My temper seized its chance to show off its jerk-like qualities and I expelled a row of flames to ensure the egg pokémon would abide by my petty restriction. He attempted to twist to avoid facial contact, only managing to move a smidge and grimace at the heat of the fire. Turning back, he looked unsure of what to think.

“...Just tell me where your hideout is!” I roared, watching the pokémon’s full-body flinch and his suddenly unquestioning expression. His mouth was a small gap, and his eyes became marbles with a hue of crimson which watched an older pokémon decide on torture techniques.

The moment struck me unexpectedly, and for a while I was unsure what to do or how to think. This togepi was suddenly a baby pokémon in the hands of an enraged fire type unable to tame her whip of flames. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick, or if I had actually frightened the wretched soul. The boulders had turned with such abruption that a reaction was not one way or another, but I stuck with a fairly familiar solution: waiting for the reply.

“Earlier, I told your altaria friend that you won’t find it alive,” he responded plainly. His eyes had reverted back to menacing orbs, but no longer did he embody such an overbearing radiation of malice. He was a fire who had been reduced to a few flickering embers after my powers of watery suppression separated the flame from its fuel.

“We’ll find it,” I retorted, minimally surprised at the decline of my doubt.

“Not alive,” he repeated, staring aimlessly before he pulled his clouded eyes up to meet with mine.

They interlocked, and I was not able to figure out why he had changed inexplicably as fast as he had. Maybe he wasn’t used to interrogations and he didn’t play it as well as he thought, or it was possible he had even grown bored of questions and answers. On the other paw, he didn’t at all seem obnoxiously disenchanted, but more like silenced...in a non-literal way. However, decoding a sick-minded killer was not prominent on my list, and I knew that focusing on the actual questioning was a more intelligent path to venture down.

“I told you we’d find it,” I confirmed, “and that would be impossible if we were dead.”

He appeared to absorb a sliver of his previously active energy as a restless draft charged through the secluded area, blowing traces of dirt between his shell and his skin, and a drawn-out breath crawled into his miniature nostrils. “I didn’t say you were the ones not alive,” he highlighted, allowing his brow to sag in a confident implication of a smile.

“Wh—” I uttered, my tongue catching the word midway through its exit. If he didn’t mean us, then he must have been referring to the hideout’s residents. My mind spun the options on a running wheel before it occurred to me that being ‘alive’ didn’t necessarily refer to one’s beating heart and expanding lungs. “Are you telling me that it’s abandoned?”

His lack of a verbal response provided me with an answer fostering as much accuracy as any number of his words would have. And as his content smile slid into place for, it seemed, the hundredth time in the minutes I had been in his presence, his eyes shrugged out any trace of regard for emotional feeling or empathy; in regard to him, I felt myself doing the same. His menacing disposition returned, reimbursing his consciousness in its noxious persuasion. Pride draped over my body as I compared his morality against mine, relieved I had the resources that granted me passage to sanity and – even just a hint – purity. At least, I wasn’t a bloodthirsty demon-pokémon whose only life goal was to please himself and his master by dealing gratuitously generous doses of anguish.

“Interrogation complete,” I mumbled to myself as I twirled to face the direction I had entered, and bounded without a second thought through the low-hanging leaves. As soon as fading sunlight engulfed me, a rocket of shivers scaled my back in response to the evil eyes on my rear thankfully no longer able to invade my personal space. The information I kept between the strands of golden fur on my forehead, I knew, would be of substantial worth in the wise weathered paws of the colony’s leader.

***

“You may leave as soon as you can tomorrow,” the lickitung revealed to me, and, in minor shock and newfound annoyance, I furrowed my brow fur.

“Tomorrow?” I repeated, and he nodded. “Why not now?”

“Although the information you gathered was useful, it is not imperative that the party knows immediately, and dawdling is acceptable. There is no need to rush,” he explained with an innocent smile.

“But, Habib, I would rather go now. There’s nothing I have to do tonight, and, well, I’m fine with going by myself.”

His face shifted tones as he further attempted his tactics crafted to convince me. “It is arranged that Splash and Azure are to accompany you so that a team of suitable elements and capable travellers could defend yourselves until you catch up with the main group.”

Disappointment intruded the moment the ‘A’ word was mentioned, but, on the flip side, having some private hours with the glaceon would provide the perfect atmosphere for me to question her. I hadn’t forgotten the conversation I had exchanged with Mynk only yesterday about her suspicious whereabouts. “Alright,” I obliged, not discontent with the company, but still resistant to wait until morning to leave.

“The problem surrounding that idea is that, with Splash gone, we do not have any suitable pokémon to guard the berry shack. Another member currently not here is the other guard. He is scheduled to return from his mission tomorrow, when a convenient time for Splash to leave would be.” The colony leader kept a steady voice as he didn’t spare me the details.

“But...wouldn’t that be inconvenient because he would sleep during the day...while we’re trying to travel?” I asked, finding tiny holes in his reason large enough to pose questions.

“Splash, you will find, is very adaptable. He is also known for sleepwalking,” he chuckled, his gaze transcending into space as if he was visualising this apparently amusing image.

“How about...I leave, and they catch up? That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”

His consistent head-shaking dulled my enthusiasm. “I would like you to leave tomorrow.”

My impatience and his refusal to listen to reason got my fire going. “But what if this other guard doesn’t even come home after we leave? What then? Do we have to wait until he returns?” I felt my fur rising as it tingled on the surface of my skin. However, the lickitung seemed confident – or unfazed, at least – that his followers wouldn’t let him down. I released a rocky sigh. “...What time can we leave tomorrow?”

The pink pokémon’s smile relaxed into his face, and as he arranged some pebbles on the table before him, I could tell he knew he was nearly finished with me. “Be not concerned with tomorrow, young one. Tomorrow will come by itself.”

In a huff and a head full of irritation, I tore myself from the large log table and stormed out of his house. Hunched over as I stood for a moment, unsure of where to go, I muttered, “Stupid philosophical crap annoys me to no end.”

As I picked a direction – Zhol’s house – and began wandering behind the row of houses, my mind turned over the options that tempted me; I could stay like Habib was restricting me to, or I could act on my own desires and escape to pursue the party when I wanted. I wasn’t sure if it was a flick of rebellion that piqued my urge to defy orders, or the hunger for adventure I found more than appealing, but it was hardly a tough decision to know I wouldn’t be listening to the adviser trying to steer me onto a path I wasn’t interested in walking. He was certainly an admirable leader and a pokémon worth knowing, but his explanations for keeping me grounded when I wanted to fly were unsupported and unreasonable.

“Quite familiar with interrogations now?” a cutting voice jabbed, and my belly tightened as I swung my entirety to the left. A green figure possessing a stature of subtle nobility but caution stood no more than two metres away. He was upright and held his scythes in an adaptable position.

My heart pounded as the rigid glare descended from a pedestal of justice, leaking guilt into the slits of my composition. Muscles and tendons stiffened, my jaws compressing without my consent and my tail and mane swelling to prickles. “Sh-Shard,” I whispered through gritted fangs.

“I must speak with you,” he insisted from the escalating density of the forest so close to the colony’s borders.

My body refused to move as his solid gaze failed to lessen, and as seconds passed without another word, it became clear that the scyther’s patience had no intention of increasing. Moving would guarantee my ticket to another lecture, attack or threat and attempting an escape would only delay the outcome—and besides, I was up against a scyther. Similar to Zhol and her abilities, a scyther’s blinding speed would be impossible to outrun unless my legs suddenly gained turbo boosters and propelled me across ground without rest.

Noting my lack in any movement, Shard hesitated in capturing the ground in front of his foot, but reluctantly forced himself to, and closed the space between us with not more than a foot to spare. “You must tell me,” he snapped. “Tell me what happened to Luck, or I’ll...” The muscles along part of his jawline on both sides of his face tensed and popped out, and his eyelids dropped over his eyeballs for longer than a usual blink. He didn’t raise his arms or grasp me in any way, but his looming frame and anger-riddled expression was influential enough to suggest that, although I suspected he was merely bluffing, I should not test his word. With displeasure and a hint of shame, he uttered, “Or I’ll cut your throat.”

I swallowed with a jolt of surprise, feeling a lump struggling to pass through my oesophagus as my neck was slightly inclined, and kept my eyes on the same field as his. “You wou—”

“Tell me,” he growled, his voice low and conspicuous as he watched the road through Den Row for witnesses. Without a minor loss of concentration, the bug and flying type bent further down to meet my ear with his snout, his wings erect. “You will only lose your guilt if you reveal the truth.” When my eyes zipped to his again, I could feel them quivering inside my skull. His were serious and unchanging. “I am only interested in what happened to my friend.” His nostrils twitched with coursing derision, his breathing reaching my face in strengthening columns. “You don’t understand, do you?” he hissed. “Luck – Lakane – is essential to this colony. Along with me, he is Habib’s bodyguard. We exist to protect our colony leader in cases of attack or threats, or when he must venture to other colonies for meetings. His feared species provides him with perfect first impressions.” His anger remained as he continued. “As well as the useful factors, he was – he is – my closest friend, as am I to him. Wynore struggles day and night with her inability to cope without the presence of her mate purely because she cannot cease her worrying, young flareon. Their cub,” he pressed, becoming more enveloped in his story as he trudged on. “Her name is Bibi. At the moment, she may or may not have a father. You know the answer to this, and yet you keep it from us all? You can cure our curiosity and prevent my suffering—our suffering, but you... You keep the secret locked up and bind it to your heart alone in a selfish attempt to dull the truth!”

In a fit of fury, the scyther lost control and, with the flesh edge of his scythe, pushed against my neck and thrust me over into a mess of orange and yellow fur. Fear gripped me as my paws scrambled before he registered my futile effort to flee, and he lunged forward, presenting his scarily sharp blades as his version of blackmail. My position was difficult to hold without ceaselessly shaking as sweat developed faster than I thought possible, my line of sight set firmly on the scyther’s weapons. Terror swirled in my belly, dividing to distribute its pain to my chest and my head, fuelling the wild pounding that tested my ability to cope with the menacing threat eating away at my composure. The scyther’s fury tangled itself around my throat, and the difficulty to breathe built until I was stabbed with flashbacks of the incident with the armarldo and the morning’s memory of Sed’s tangible vines.

I was almost convinced Shard’s aggression mollified as he came to his senses, but it was barely noticeable before it vanished completely once we heard uneven footsteps and an emission of a low growl. The scyther’s attention on me was severed as he flung his spiky head over his shoulder quicker than the blink of an eye and swiftly looked Zhol up and down. She stared back.

I whispered the sneasel’s name as my pleading expression flowed in disheartened waves towards her soft spot. Evocation of her empathy would save my skin and display the effects of Shard’s impulsive and surprising behaviour. For the continuing brief seconds of Shard’s form looming like a raincloud over my body, I didn’t stop my internal panic.

The green dual type clambered off me, consciously angling his scythes so they wouldn’t stray. I blew a drawn-out shaky breath as my heart settled and my paws regained their mobility, hoisting my body into a sturdy position. I staggered back, eyes focused on Shard as he leaned on his scythes and curved his back. He looked regretful as he hung his head in shame, clenching and unclenching his jaws in turn. As I looked to Zhol, I could tell she wanted strongly to know what had happened, and I figured I should probably fill her in.

“Have you told him yet?” asked the sneasel before I could expel words of my own.

I blinked repeatedly, gazing without a change in my face as she switched her leg up to avoid contact with the ground. “No, I...” I lost my words and became unable to find them again.

She let me be and moved to Shard. She didn’t have to speak to convey her disapproval. In response, he looked up. “I overreacted,” he admitted in the noblest fashion a pokémon could after having flipped out. I watched as he locked eyes with the sneasel, the perpetual expression of a grave matter racing through the space between them. I could hear the heavy breathing of the precautious scyther dampening the air surrounding his snout, and compared it with my short and sharp respiring. His plea was stronger than mine despite the pitiful position I, not moments ago, had held, and what frightened me more than Shard himself would be Zhol’s decision to take his side.

After assessing the situation, she turned to me. “You must tell him,” she insisted plainly.

My shoulders lost support and my legs seemed to cave in as I emotionally deflated, facing once again the hardship of secrets. “But, I...” Another stern look silenced me, and I swallowed. Hard.

“Shard is one pokémon,” she began, “and you need to start somewhere.” She guided my line of sight to the scyther’s averted eyes, and I felt my heart pick up its rapid rate. My head began to fill with liquid guilt and as his attention met mine, I flinched involuntarily and nearly took a step back.

“You...you knew?” Shard uttered nearly inaudibly to Zhol, his face stained with an edge of pain and bewilderment. He released feelings of betrayal as he started at her with an open mouth and saddened eyes.

“Yes. I am sorry,” she whispered, angling her eyes at the ground. “But it was not my business to intervene.”

Silence rode the wind and sifted through the soil as our only movement became the rise and fall of our bellies and the snap and retract of our eyelids. The hostility apparent in his eyes that previously frightened me to my core had subsided, and my only concern appeared to me as my revelation of the truth: that Luck had died. However, as the concept flooded my mind, I realised something. ‘If I tell them he died, then they should be satisfied with my answer...’ My ears straightened out and I felt my muzzle twitch. ‘They don’t need to know I was involved.’ I scanned the scyther’s body in a singular moment and inflated my chest, tightening my paws.

“Please,” Shard added with a sigh of hopefulness, having removed his weight from his scythes to stand steadily on two feet. Zhol continued with her unreadable bare face.

“On the ship,” I started, exhaling at a sensible pace, “Luck was fighting that...garchomp I mentioned yesterday morning.” The bug and flying type’s eyes rounded as he seemed to be drawn in to my story. “He was a wonderful fighter.” I could tell he was surprised by my use of ‘was’, but I could only imagine he knew what I was about to say. “Unfortunately, he...he was...” My lips froze, and in a slight act of desperation, the scyther moved a step closer.

“What?” he demanded, his concern outmatching his anger.

“He... He fell off!” I hissed, squeezing my eyelids together. It felt as if a plug had been pulled from my heart, and the wretched fluid drained from the hollows of my head. I revealed my pupils only to the dirt beneath my paws as I uttered, “The beast dealt a fatal blow when Luck wasn’t paying attention, and he...he fell off.” My words trailed off as I added, “He perished with the waves...”

The wind tickled my fur as it carried with it any prior resentment, and suddenly I felt clean. Wishing to share my feeling, I raised my head, absorbing the abrupt shift in Shard’s composure. He was staring ahead at the back of a colony home, and not one part of his body was moving. Both the sneasel and I watched as he exposed his eyes to the wind for so long that they developed a glaze of salt water. It welled on his bottom eyelid and slipped down his smooth green face, and with the twitch of his snout, he blinked it out and strained his head down.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, eyes bound and body tense. A second or two passed, and I wasn’t sure what to say. I was about to look to Zhol for clarification when, in a flurry of woe and a subtle whisper of further apologising, he dashed past me, gliding across the campfire grounds and away into the trees.

I threw a glance of worry to my sneasel friend, and she only returned it with modest compassion and reassurance. We knew I had done the right thing, even if it felt horrible to witness Shard’s heartbreaking reaction.

“I’m glad I finally told him,” I admitted bitterly, still half-concerned about the horrid news.

Zhol nodded curtly and presented the faintest of smiles. I knew she was satisfied with my actions. “Next you must reveal Luck’s fate to Wynore.”

Immediately I experienced a full-body shiver, and felt my eyes grow as quickly as a sunflora’s head in extensive sunlight. “Wh...what?” I gasped, realising she was utterly correct. I nearly panicked as the dark and ice type took a wonky step towards me.

“First, I must show you,” she insisted, hobbling past me.

With another groan of displeasure and the turn of my body, I scampered to support her injured foot and thought briefly about her words. I did have to tell Wynore, and I knew that it was better late than never. I couldn’t keep it from her forever, and even though I managed to reveal it to Shard, Zhol was right. He was only one pokémon, and although I had to start with him, I couldn’t, by any means, finish with him. Eventually the whole colony had to know, but one pokémon at a time would suffice...wouldn’t it?

“Where are we going?” I asked once I shook the thought from my head. Although it wasn’t going to show me mercy anytime soon, I could at least focus on now instead of on what will be.

“You’ll see.”

***

She led me to where she’d initially planned the day before: a small glade with grass that didn’t even reach my shoulders while lying down. The space was surrounded by thick and smooth guards of shapeless rock that were each placed only centimetres apart. A ground-meeting triangle of a gap between two tall grey boulders grinned excitedly at our arrival and led us in. The small space would only have fit me, Zhol and a couple of other pokémon. The sneasel had shared with me the fact that nobody had deliberately built the enclosure—from what she knew, anyway. And surprisingly, it hadn’t been claimed either. It was located in an expanse of land that sprouted boulders in many places, and the general area progressively became heavier with rock the further north-west one travelled, helping the secret space to remain unveiled. Tall trees also did their jobs of hanging protectively over it, shielding it from intruders who could unearth its whereabouts.

“What is this place?” I wondered aloud, scanning the enclosure with an open maw. ‘It’s pretty impressive...’

“It’s where I go to think and be alone,” she responded casually, lowering herself to a cross-legged seating position a flareon wouldn’t at all be capable of emulating.

“Interesting place,” I responded coolly, taking my place opposite her. There was hardly a pace between us. “But...why did you want to take me here?”

She pondered for a moment before confessing, “It’s special to me. I wanted to show you this place.” With a hesitant breath, her gaze on me, she added, “I trust you.” To that I grew a responsive smile, and she averted her eyes, seemingly embarrassed to reveal a feeling rare for her to encounter.

“Trust is good,” I replied happily. “I trust you too. In fact...you’re a really good friend.”

Presumably before we dwelled too much on the details of friendship she wasn’t accustomed to experiencing, she slipped in, “I also imagined you would want to distance yourself from the Usster Colony until you felt as though you could reveal the...undesirable truth.”

I wave of intensity washed through me, but diminished quickly, as I knew I had taken another step towards fulfilling the promise to do so. I only knew I wouldn’t get a chance to tell them before I left for the mountains to catch up with the party. “By the way, Zhol. I, uh...” My brows came together and she watched emotionlessly, waiting for a continuation. “Well, I’m gonna be leaving to catch up with the party venturing into the mountains, as per Habib’s request.”

Her head bowed without haste, and she lifted her eyelids slowly, seeming to be involved in thought. In response she met my gaze and her cheek flickered with the trace of an understanding smile. The action made me smile, and accordingly, my spirits lifted. After brushing through her reaction, I only hoped her acceptance was genuine.

After settling to the point of relaxation, we chatted – well, I blabbered – for a good fifteen or so minutes. After securing myself in the right position, I spent time retelling her about my life with Izante and our humans. I filled her in on some of the many adventures we had together...the assorted events we pulled each other through. Such as the time I tackled her master out the way of an oncoming car in a town we skipped through, or when Izante slipped on a fish at a market and fell flat on her belly...and about all those times I thought I could truly count on her. Back when I couldn’t imagine my life without such a supportive best friend. “...Then again, she was never really that supportive,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as my mouth formed a half-hearted sarcastic smile. “But, you know... She was still a close friend to me. It meant a lot that I could spend so long with her.” I blew through my nose in an effortless chuckle, my gaze slipping and thumping into the earth in the rummaging of my memories. Silence finally wedged between us, and I was quite happy to sit in my spot and feel the thoughts blow around inside my mind.

“If you were to ask me,” Zhol began hesitantly, as if she felt like she didn’t have the right to input, “I would advise that you...not keep thinking about this. It seems it only pains you.” Although slightly forlorn, she was also practical.

I lowered my eyebrows, contemplating her suggestion. I enjoyed reminiscing, and it did give me a pleasant set of memories to remember the leafeon by...but maybe she was right. I didn’t want to abandon the thoughts I held so fondly to my heart, but bringing up the topic with unresting repetition surely couldn’t benefit me. After all, listening to Zhol was—

“Zhol!” yelled a voice into the chilled evening air.

I saw the dark and ice type’s ears draw close to one another, the longer one flickering beforehand. I frowned.

“Aemara wants you back at the clinic!” exclaimed the same pokémon, and although I wasn’t sure who it was, it was obvious that it was someone from the colony.

“Expect me soon,” the sneasel called with cupped paws, straightening her legs awkwardly as she rose to her feet. She rotated her head back to me. “I’ve...got to go.”

“Are you right to go by yourself?” I asked, rising to my paws. At first she appeared puzzled, but after I glanced quickly to her mangled foot, she seemed to rediscover a friend in comprehension.

“Yes. I’ll be fine,” she affirmed with a light smile, nodding once before crawling back through the entrance.

Once her last feather-like tail vanished through the rocks, I hung my head, disappointed she had to leave so suddenly. At the same time, since there was not another pokémon around, I was able to have more me time. It was a plan to sleep for a time before sunup, allowing me a few hours of rest before my journey to catch up with the party would commence. So, after stretching with a long string of oxygen to fill my chest, I lay back down and felt my tail encase my legs in its furry depths...as best it could as a petty half. “Goodbye, nighttime. Hello, naptime.”

***

My eyelids lifted with weary fuzziness as grumbling, muffled scrapes slid through my ears. Immediately I made a note of the endless darkness soaking the land, remembering my place in the small enclosure walled off by tall, trusty stones. However, upon the twitch of my ear as the grinding continued, my nostrils identified an unfamiliar scent strong enough to knock the leaves off a tree. A slim tail flicked only a pace in front of me.

“AAHHH!” I squealed, leaping abruptly in response to a dark figure filling my view. In the process of my sudden fright, I thumped against a giant rock behind me, bashing my head and dropping like a...well, a stone until I met the rough ground. I didn’t forget the new pokémon, however, and scrambled upright whilst new injuries thudded.

“Awake, are we?” the pokémon teased, his muzzle becoming visible as he rotated his head, which was facing the entrance. He had ceased his clumsy chewing to address me, and before I could adjust my eyes to my newfound dim surroundings, I stared with an open mouth, panting heavily. A section of my spine whinged with pain.

“Y...you,” I growled, my voice hushed and my eyes narrowed. I recognised this male fire type.

“Yep, me. And you too, Flair,” he stated casually, waiting a moment before turning back to his bone.

My eyes fired up and I strengthened my pose, curling my lips into a snarl. “By Arceus,” I shouted incredulously, “it was YOU! Wasn’t it?!”

With a light furrow of the brow, the houndoom rose to his paws, turning around to face me. It was only then when I realised he was reasonably larger than I was, and I was secretly tempted to cower in his shadow. “Yep,” he responded coolly, eyelids resting lazily on his eyeballs as he flashed his teeth. “I told those bibarel that you’d be willing to help them.”

“You what?” I questioned with indignation coating each syllable. In a fit of rage, my muzzle twitched, loosing a line of flames onto the houndoom’s pelt. I hoped it would singe his fur until he smoked like a hairless rattata on a spit, but half his element was fire, unfortunately acting as a barrier against attacks such as flamethrower.

As the stream of heated energy dissolved into mere cinders, the houndoom stood, almost unfazed. He revealed his eyes once more and stared with question and calmness. However, I didn’t think I got my point across.

After a measured brewing of acid forming somewhere in my torso, I vomited a sickly toxic paste which so graciously blanketed the unsuspecting houndoom, following which was a shadow ball composed not of the materials required to injure a dark type. When my ordeal neared its end, I eyed him off and snorted, “Stuff you.”

“...You finished?” he murmured through the coating of purple liquid, coughing as he shook off and rubbed against the wall. It seemed none of my attacks had left a mark or even an emotional effect, provoking my agitation and warranting a sneer. He reeked of patronisation.

“Yeah...” I growled with reluctance, fluffing myself up and averting my vengeful glare. Remembering my reason for anger, I turned back to him. “Do you know how annoying it was to have to stay there and be forced to help?”

He chuckled, hardly aware of the measly after-effects of the poison. “What was so bad about it? You learned something, didn’t you, Flair?”

My cheek flickered with frustration. “Yeah. That I hate houndoom.” Holding his gaze firmly to jab his game in its gut, I hissed, “And don’t call me that!”

“You know that was me who saved you when you nearly fell into the river there, right?” A smile licked his face.

“You...” My face melted from a detailed frown to a lacking look of curiosity, and I burrowed into the memories of the other day to uncover truth to his words. The recollection of the forgettable event rolled into my mind, and I momentarily wondered why I didn’t scent him at the time. However, the rushing river off the cliff I nearly tumbled over would have masked any additional smell that would not normally have avoided detection. As angry as I was at him, he did save me from an unfortunate tumble, so to speak. That river could have carried me anywhere.

“That river could have carried you anywhere,” he reinstated, mirroring my thoughts with scary likeliness. “Provided I didn’t come to your gallant rescue, that is.”

“Don’t think that makes us even,” I snapped, enraged once more. A smirk formed across his jaws. “And if you were so gallant, why didn’t you show yourself till now? You sound more cowardly than fearless.”

“Every houndoom has to look out for himself, right?” He shrugged, helping his tail to dance. “Told you your perfect nickname is Flair,” he chuckled, disappearing with a playful scamper through the exit.

I forced an elongated string of air from my nose and pouted my lips, following. Once I greeted the night air, I observed the many dozing trees and plants and stretched my limbs, finally allowed the everlasting space. I craned my neck at the Moon and her sleeping children who dotted the inky sky, remembering the task I had wanted to awake around this time to commence. “Oi,” I began, gaining the houndoom’s attention as he nibbled at presumable flees or something alike on a section of his back. “What are you even doing here?” Realising he had appeared on more than a few occasions in the same spot as me in recent time, I hardened my glare. “Are you stalking me?” An alarming thought paired itself with the question: what if he was a Rocket or Rokont – whichever – spy told to follow me and gather information on the culprit of the recently sunken ship? The possibility dawned on me, and for a moment he was no longer friend, but foe.

“Aren’t I allowed to tail a fellow fire type in a bore-induced endeavour?” he asked, swishing his tail in such a way that made my claws twitch. He was clearly enjoying himself.

I narrowed my eyes, however, and kept my glare on the bones hugging his back. His untamed gaze lay upon my face, waiting for me to make a move. Understanding his game, I shifted my head to the treetops, pretending to act somewhat entranced. He turned back to his pelt and nibbled. Catching his act from the corner of my attention, I seized the chance to escape. Swiftly I moved through the undergrowth, crunching leaves in the process, and dodged the thick obscuring tree trunks and their more subtle roots. Within no more than thirty seconds, my breath was quickening as I exercised my limbs, and my heart pounded to drive me forward. Due to swift movements and a steady pace, I reached the colony grounds in approximately five minutes.

I initiated my abrupt stop before passing onto their soil, and I scanned the area. Habib’s den was to my left a fair way up, and the arrangement of logs and a bonfire lay out in the field close to the lake that governed the southwest corner. I was not far from it, observing form the lower west, contemplating my array of selectable actions. I kept low and concealed myself behind a bush while noting the few pokémon still roaming, often in pairs, who had not retreated from the dark to their homes. I saw Krinn and Yukra, with a sleeping Mosst attached to the larger heracross’ shell, exchanging hushed chatter near the logs, and a female floatzel who I had yet to meet hovering on the surface of the lake. I knew I had to be careful and quiet if I was to make it across their grounds without being spotted, but I had the darkness to hide me and knowledge of stealth. Well...I liked to think so, anyway. I had always managed to creep up on Izante and give her frights without her noticing, and usually she was rather alert. Crossing the territory was probably easier than it sounded, especially considering I could fabricate a reason for my night wandering if I was caught. Some flareon (presumably the non-trainer types) were nocturnal, and for all they knew, I too followed that habit.

After distant rustling and suppressed paw pattering, I lowered my brow into an impatient frown. “So, what are we looking at?” the houndoom inquired, sliding his intruding head over my mane whilst radiating excitement.

With a violent shrug, I rolled my shoulder and stepped to the left, screwing my nose into a display of my irritation. “Leave me alone,” I muttered, spelling out each word in the hopes that they would somehow squelch through his head and into his brain—or pickle. Whatever the substitute for the organ was.

“C’mon, Flair,” he whined in his husky, restless tone. “Take me for a run.”

“Screw. You,” I retorted, monitoring my volume to avoid detection. In an effort to be rid of the haughty dark type, I exposed myself and scuttled up the border, my awareness set on Yukra and Krinn, and finally stepped onto the soft grass in varied spots between Habib’s house and Den Row’s outer hut. Sure enough, the houndoom pursued me. As reluctant as I was to acknowledge it, he was perhaps even more surreptitious than me, but there was no way those words would exit my mouth on a direct path to his – Arceus knows where they are – ears.

“Tell me your plan,” he insisted, each of his words provoking my agitation.

“Shut up, will you?” Looking back to the bug type and the electric type, I assessed the situation. If I moved further up and crossed Den Row, I could stick close to Aemara’s clinic and slip by unnoticed. If this burdensome stalker would unlatch himself, that was. “Why are you even here?” I growled, throwing my glower at his face while keeping my crouched position. I could feel my tail brushing the ground.

“I was bored, and we never got a chance to meet properly,” he shrugged, apparently immune to my scorn.

I moved past Habib’s house and was crossing a gap between homes when I stopped to address him. “Well you’ve named me ‘Flair’, and I know you as ‘Idiot’. I think we’re set.” I eyed the two male colony members as their conversation continued, Yukra’s arms flailing about as he explained an inaudible situation. I was suddenly reminded of my master. I whirled back ‘round to the dual type. “So scram.”

He merely chuckled, however, lifting a paw in response as his brow raised. The familiar smug smile stretched the length of his muzzle, and he emitted a mocking, “Ooh.” It was obvious he didn’t possess any degree of maturity.

“Take me seriously!” I demanded, perhaps a fraction too loudly as Krinn slapped a finger to his mouth.

His suspicious gaze scanned the campus as we ducked in an effort to remain hidden, but it wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do when moving would mean more sound, and holding our positions with little cover meant risk of our sighting. However, the houndoom practiced no hesitation to creep almost soundlessly to my right side, becoming stationary as he obscured any pokémon’s view of me from Krinn’s angle with his black body. As handy as I found it, I grunted with displeasure upon the realisation that I had nearly given myself away due to a careless outburst.

As the electric pokémon reconsidered his previous evaluation, my ears relaxed and I released a bottled sigh. He and his friend must have decided to split as they separated and went their separate ways to their homes, during which time I copped an expectant, self-assured expression from the pokémon still elongated alongside me.

“What?” I grumbled, dropping the word like a solid rock.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his eyes following the heracross and his niece until they disappeared from view.

My eyes rolled in their sockets and I recommenced my watchful paces, eventually reaching Aemara’s house and the adjoined clinic. Not a pokémon in sight, we crept behind the waterhole and past Mynk’s house adjacent to the cluster of trees which separated Den Row from the daycare. The dark and fire type’s steps didn’t lessen as I whispered continual threats and minor insults to him, and merely let them slide from his pelt as if he had a downing like a ducklett.

Approaching the northeast exit of the colony grounds, the path I walked when Zhol and Shard took me hunting, something large captured my attention. Whipping my head to the right, in the direction of the daycare, my eyes seemed to distinguish a house from a pokémon, which soon morphed into an ursaring. The pains in my stomach returned, and I felt my cheek tingle with the great sensation of the impact from an ursaring’s paw. The shame repainted itself across my chest and dotted sections of my face, flaunting its quantity with blatant immodesty.

Wynore was excavating outside her home by scooping armfuls of soil and stacking it onto the mound she had created, repeating the process as the hole expanded in size. Her reasons for doing something like that were either not apparent or flew straight between my ears, because I wasn’t able to fathom, in the short time I watched her from the back, why she would spend time transferring dirt. My initial guess sprung to my mind as a grave, which pushed chills down my spine as I questioned whose grave it would be.

“Flair,” the houndoom whispered with a gravelly edge. I expected him to continue, but when he didn’t, I reallocated my gaze and ensured I was crouching. Just outside the border, the houndour evolution stood side-on, but his focus was not on me. Instead, his attention was in the arms of a small honey-brown pokémon, her forehead’s crescent moon pattern emanating a dim glow of light.

“Bibi,” I mumbled, the word falling from my mouth as I recalled the several mentions of her name. Shooting one last gaze to Wynore, I moved off the open field and across the border, my limbs tingling with the allurement of rebellion. I sealed the gap between the three of us, excited and attempting to produce a smile, but unsure of myself and guilty that I was leaving the teddiursa and her mother without a proper answer. I could assume that Shard may tell them, but I couldn’t know for certain.

“Where’s my daddy?” the small pokémon inquired, her words high pitched like a typical youngling, but heavy with concern and uncertainty.

My eyes enlarged and my lips withdrew into the care of my teeth, and I felt my front legs twitch. I flashed my attentive glance at the more settled houndoom, noticing my frantic mannerisms, and let it rest on the teddiursa once more. “Your father...” Holding my tongue but finding no reason to induce fantasies in the child’s mind, I decided she earned the truth. “Your father’s not coming back. I’m...I’m sorry.”

Taking no further chances, I tore myself from the normal type, raced past the houndoom and fled through the forest with my half-tail rippling in my wake.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-three: Separate Paths

I was hardly aware or mindful of the noise the rustling would have produced as I seared across the forest floor. I may have been startling nearby sleeping pokémon for the second I was in their presence and arousing trees, but their desires were not prominent on my list. My thoughts raced as my legs followed, dodging trees as I mulled over my brisk decision to blurt out something that could harm that child forever.

However, the information was absolutely necessary. Holding in such a terrible secret for much longer could have driven me insane, and, as I realised, it was more important that I not keep such a thing to myself... Bottling it up only caused things to continue turning sour, and I certainly wasn’t winning myself any points of wisdom. The realisation was a shocking one; at first I thought that because the secret was my burden, I mattered the most...that I was most affected. But keeping a secret to myself, one that should be shared with the entire colony to sooth their concerns, seemed newly absurd.

The sick feeling of selfishness seeped through my skin, soaking my flesh and snaking along my veins. I tried to shed the layer of guilt as I leapt through the brush, stamping the soil flat, only to have its grass spring back up after I passed through. My leg muscles buzzed as I galloped between trunks and my tail fluttered uncomfortably through the air as the difference between a normal tail and half a tail surprised me again, as it did each time I noticed. Progressively my throat became drier, and dampening it was the only solution.

Deciding to focus my attention on finding a stream of water, I switched on my directional senses and slowed to a jog. My jaws eased into separation to allow a circulation of air to cool my internals. It wasn’t difficult to detect any site of importance, as the wind flowed in my direction during the time in which I scented it, so after a short minute, I stumbled upon a stream. Coming to the edge of the river, I monitored my paws, ensuring that they didn’t slip on the bank’s mud. When my toes squelched in the mud and my eyes had fixed themselves warily to the calm body of water, my mind was cast back to the minutes before I had been apprehended weeks ago by the armaldo.

I ruffled my mane in an effort to feel the light breeze weave between its many strands of fur and leaned down. My muzzle submerged and I sealed my eyelids, gulping water by the mouthfuls. I raised my head and parted my jaws to inhale wisps of oxygen between drinks, and returned thoughtlessly to the stream. My vision trailed across slimy rocks, focusing on the occasional one that jutted from the bottom and intersected the flow, the light catching the sparkling liquid and highlighting rises in the current. Separately were the stones that protruded and exposed their surfaces to the air. They quietly reminded me of fins of pokémon that wanted to feel the steady breeze stroke their skin—something they were deprived of underwater. I reminded myself that I was thankful for a life on land.

As my vision rolled over the rocks, pinpointing the reeds poking from the stream, it stopped at a set of irregular black shapes appearing at the left of my body. I knew I would encounter them, however, and it was clear whose paws they were. The houndoom stayed himself, my eyes still and out of view of his face, before I noticed his elbows flex. A chest pointed with orange lowered, a muzzle of the same orange dipping into the water. His eyes were closed, as mine had been, and it was a moment before he opened them directly on me, mine on his. He retracted his head as I remained still; I didn’t follow him up, instead looking away when his face was out of sight.

“What was that all about?” he finally questioned, his voice as casual as I had expected. His legs were unmoving; I knew he meant for me to answer. It was probably a confusing sight for him to witness. I had thought that, judging by my silence, it was obvious I intended not to provide him with a clear response. He didn’t seem to understand. “Hey. Flair.” He ducked his head, eying me from the side.

As I failed to move, aside from the infrequent blink and my heaving chest, he rose and sprung, clearing the narrow stream with a meagre shred of effort. From the other side, he was able to lean over the rushing water and draw my eyes. Somehow the temptation worked, and I pulled my line of sight further up. With the clench of my jaw, I pushed on my paws into a stand, took off and followed the stream upriver.

It was nearly immediately that the fragmentation of leaves and snapping of twigs from the opposite side reached my ears, and with a scowl I turned my head away from the houndoom, or ‘Idiot.’ He hardly, if at all, deserved anything more dignifying.

“Come on, Flair! You can’t just run away,” he called, apparently keen on changing my mind. His efforts would be wasted.

“I beg to differ!” I shouted, but blinked sharply in response. I hadn’t meant to speak aloud.

My nose twisted in irritation as I imagined his satisfied smirk. He definitely understood that I was not intent on discussing it. Given the situation, he would be proud, or just smug, to have gotten me to talk.

We ran a little longer before my ears twitched to the sound of the undergrowth’s disturbance hastening; he was increasing his pace. Within a number of seconds, the dark type had gained the appropriate ground to leap across the stream, and I wasn’t sure where he had planned to land, but in the split second before we collided, I knew he had miscalculated.

Together his foolish plunge had sent us rolling to my left, and in a mingle of legs and paws, we scuffed along pointed sticks and gravelly ground. Several of my muscles were battered, as well as my left cheek, the bone having clobbered a stone and taken the impact. I tried my best to keep my legs drawn and my head tucked, but the force of the collision launched us at such a velocity that it was difficult to keep track of any voluntary action. My vision was nothing but a muck of blurs when the foliage smudged by, and momentary darkness as I became downturned to the soil and sealed my eyelids together. I emitted yelps of protest and anger as we tumbled, and finally we slowed, body parts folding over each other before we came to a heaving halt. The ordeal had provoked the resurrection of my fury, and traces of my guilt and worry slowly slipped from my grasp.

“What the hell were you THINKING?!” I cried, snapping my limbs away from him and rising to my paws.

With a half-heated chuckle, the houndoom pressed his front paws against the ground, the rest of his body limp against the ground. “Didn’t work out as planned.”

“Oh, really,” I snapped bitterly, fur risen and pupils tiny with derision. I began to notice the small spots of pain bleeding through my muscles. They would only show as tiny bruises later, but for the moment they pulsed in assorted places. My face was going to bruise as well, even if the purple colouration wouldn’t show up through my fur.

“You don’t have to be so mad,” he suggested, tone raised in a mildly bemused but bewildered manner.

“Stay out of my way,” I barked, claws puncturing the earth as I turned and fled again, nearly stumbling at first. I regained my stature and trudged on, speeding through the forest as I had done so many times before.

I had no idea where I was headed, but I needed to run. Running occupied my mind; the more twigs that jabbed my paw pads and the many grains of dirt wedging between my toes to help with distraction, the better. Yet I knew such futile attempts to rid myself of the sad reality of my lies and the truth were no less than excuses to lead me astray from what I had to face. It was my fault that I withheld vital information so selfishly, and in doing so, I should have realised that I endangered, even just mentally, the ones who suffered in turn. I had failed to see that I was not the only one on the end of the tipping scales; others were beginning to teeter and fall because of the imbalance I instigated, and yet I only sought solitude for myself.

‘That poor baby teddiursa...’

Sourly my mind walked the figurative path of destruction I had torn in my wake and encountered Wynore, distraught beyond what I had previously considered. The ursaring had lost her mate, her lifelong friend, and duty to provide her with some closure was assigned to me, but I had been too cowardly. Slouched beside her was Shard, the loyal and caring support who had propped the ursaring up since they had met. His eyes were still with shame, his spine curved and head dangling above the unearthed soil.

Further up the path, a mangy teddiursa – Bibi – wailed silently, mouth gaping and eyes frantic with fear. Her fur was matted and tangled; she was desperately deprived of a loving touch, and could perceive only confusion and loss. Along the path were countless pokémon lined in a row either side of the road, each one oblivious to another’s presence. They too had suffered at my paws, and it was that very thought which gnawed at the rawest section of my mixed mind.

I had only one flareon to blame, and so did they.

***

Cloud-like wings sliced the air with long strokes, the white fluffiness resting atop the current as if the wind ignored its presence and treated it as kin. Each wing beat steadied the blue pokémon increasingly each time, and her small eyes scanned the treetops as she surveyed the lands from far above. The sunlight pulsed onto her head in a warm wave and pleasantly rolled down her back; had her wings been darker, the sun would have soaked her with heat that would lead to sweat. The thickness of her feathers compensated for the whiteness, however, and heated her unnecessarily anyway.

She tossed her head about, observing as the tall family of frosty mountains in the near distance seemed to grow in size with each passing metre. She would have to return again with the same answer; Derino’s pestering did not alter the course before them, and neither did the impatience in his stride or the frequency of which he persisted she check. Her gaze seemed to flicker back and forth as she tried to mentally gather the distance to relay to the travelling party.

She blinked a few times in succession and then wheeled around, retracing her figurative steps as she began to return to the party. She once more assessed the upcoming scenery as she flew back, and began a steep descent to the treetops within a matter of minutes. She weaved through branches and avoided trunks before she exposed her talons and drove her legs into the soil. She came to a halt after a few paces and gazed about, spotting the party further ahead as she twisted her neck.

Heaving a sigh, she picked herself up and glided to catch up with them, landing beside a cream figure with a green helmet that curled to a point just below his forehead. Two red prongs, one each side of the scalp, complimented the single button of the same colour on the pokémon’s otherwise green chest.

He whirled to face her, raising one of his green arms. “News, Fluffy?” he teased, legs shrouded with what looked like cream pants walking him sideways.

“It’s not news that I’ll dragonbreath your face off if you persist with that stupid nickname,” she snapped, her small, rounded beak hardly threatening. “But I’ll still do it.”

The krinar shrugged, pretending his words were not to be taken offensively. “Your choice if you don’t wanna play along.” He turned back around and whispered something inaudible to the pokémon of similar form beside him. Her cream dress-like attire, frilling at the bottom where it reached her thin thighs, swayed calmly as she walked. Never did her heels touch the soil.

Tarla ignored the obnoxious psychic type and ducked ahead, appearing by the side of the pokémon apparently leading the four. Before she could manage anything, the lilac figure had flicked his head at her and opened his wide maw. “How far?” he demanded, his tone harbouring little patience.

“The mountains don’t move,” Tarla muttered. “I don’t see why I have to keep checking.”

“Because I want to know how far away we are,” he grumbled, eyes pressed upon by heavy brows. “It doesn’t inconvenience you to check!”

“Derino, we know it’ll take three to four days to get there. There’s no point in checking if we know the path and know the time it will take,” she protested, agitation scattered across her face.

“I don’t care. I want to know when I want to know, and you’re the only one that can fly ahead to check.” His gruff voice aided the unreasonable effects that Tarla deemed one of the normal type’s less redeeming qualities.

“And they’re my wings,” she concluded, and, grumbling under her breath, took flight and rested in a high branch nearby. She began preening some wing fluff as she ignored the three below her who passed in no time, and reasoned to herself that she could catch up at any time of her choosing.

With lingering annoyance drifting to the back of her mind, the altaria looked up, admiring a sight she not often had the privilege to witness. The darkness surrounding her which was blotched with spotlights felt more embracive than stifling. The autumn colours of gold and ochre mingled across the forest floor were highlighted in patches by the breaks in the canopy, and trunks stretched far above ground level, their great branches spanning across overhead to sprout forest green sheets of leaves. Each tree stood a measured distance from its neighbours; it was patterned that way for leagues in each direction, creating a comfortable, organised environment. One would feel protected from aerial predators scouring the forest for prey above the treetops, although walking along the ground presented an openness many would consider overexposure. There was nowhere to conceal oneself, as shrubs and bushes were not overly abundant. The warmth encasing the surrounding area was comforting, however, and often detracted from any negative qualities. That was the feel of Torqueal Forest.

She sighed as she marvelled at the sight before her, noting that their journey through this part was to be a short one; by nightfall they would be well away from the beautiful trees as they neared the enormous mountains. Their frostiness stretched across rocky terrain as a slope built up to flat ground and dipped into a valley. She knew the valley’s paths split into several directions through the mountains and was home to many caves and rough routes.

With a spacey gaze, she envisioned an event long ago involving those mountains. She remembered the bitter sting that the wind forced upon her face, prioritising endurance and shelter and minimising such feelings as emotion.

--
The chill weaved through even her thick wings and seemed to freeze up her bones as it surged past. She once again reminded herself that her small, round body was less than adequate for surviving such a demanding climate, yet the choice to do so was evidently not hers. She heavily resented what had happened back with her flock... They made a foolish decision, and although she was glad she was away and far distanced from them before she was forced into anything she didn’t have a want for. The thought shook her confidence and scraped at her beacon of understanding. It was difficult to comprehend why they would make such a decision. It made no sense.

“You are a part of this flock,” they had told her, eyes perfectly rounded as they loomed over her small body. “You are one of us. You will comply with the flock’s wishes.”

She imagined their cruel presence in her mind, their great wings nearly camouflaging with the troublesome blanket of thick, whipped snow coating the grounds their feet sank into—the same snow they sought to avoid every year at the same time. It was their season to migrate, and yet this time...the flock had decided against tradition, but more importantly, against reason.

“To participate in actions separate to ours would be abandonment; traitorous.” Her eyes glared directly in front, through the fall of sporadic snowflakes. Her beak pressed tighter together. “You will be banished!”

The last words stabbed her way were followed by harsh attacks designed to frighten; she was only small, and the four altaria driving her back were beyond intimidating. She shook in her feathers at their brisk snaps and flutter of their wings. She knew the cloud-like arrangement of feathers appeared inoffensive, but to an experienced reciprocator, they were large, suffocating and dangerous. She had needed to flee. The risk was growing, and in the rapidity of their threats and accompanying actions, she was driven back, nearing one of the many cliff edges defining their territory. She was aware that it was an act of condemnation rather than a means to injure her. And even though she knew no physical harm could come from her fall off the cliff, she was horrified that she understood plainly what it meant, and what its purpose was.

It was how they banished traitors.

Knowing she would be forced off the edge without first having a chance to turn and spare herself the shame by flittering away, she had tumbled and rolled, their nips evolving to clamps and the sting of their dragonbreaths beginning a more focused assault. She hurried her backward pace every time she was able to make it to her feet before she was knocked down again.

As her wings cut through the drifting snow, she cringed. She had been driven over the edge. She was unable to salvage even a trace of dignity as she had spiralled down, the wind rushing against her face. A single elder dropped down after her in rapid pursuit. After a swift struggle to capture the wind, she had taken flight and escaped the diving altaria with a timed roll, and flapped furiously away, eager to jam at least a few mountains between her and the flock. She knew she was the one who had betrayed them by opposing their wishes and adhering to hers before theirs, but...she couldn’t help feeling it was her that was betrayed, and that her flock was the traitor.

The hardest part was the look. The look in her younger sister’s eye as she had tussled backwards in the effort produced by the elders, ironically deemed wise, before her sweet face was abruptly obscured. Their masses had absorbed any vision she had of her only family, and although she was marginally relived the younger pokémon didn’t have to see her last moment of exile, she was saddened. She had wanted to see her, to know that she was still there, even if it was while shame was flooding through her mind. She was deeply troubled that her last communication had to be in the worst moment, when not even words could be shared. For that she was thankful in a way; she couldn’t bare more pleading and more conveyance of desperation and disappointment. It was mutual, in light of her insistence for her sister to join her cause and stray from the flock’s foolish choices, which made their last exchange of words with one another a painful repetition of pleas and refusals. She knew that her sister enjoyed it as little as she, but the discomfort of their situation alone was little to do with its beginning and end. It ended when she was called to offer her cause before the elders, so they could present their judgement. Her reputation and whatever position she may have hoped to gain in the future were lost; she had tarnished any chance she had at a purpose in her flock.

***

My belly was starting to rumble as my apparent new companion and I stalked the dimming forest in no effort to find food, but to simply move ourselves along, despite the fact that it was growing closer to night. We had stopped for a long while in order to rest a time after passing the area around which Shardclaw, Zhol and I had attempted to hunt the day before, where vegetation was sparse. Because of this break, I was reluctant to waste any more time—the party would be a fair way ahead already, and if we didn’t make an effort to catch up, they would very well reach the hideout before we had a chance to meet with them. I knew that travelling through the night while they slept was a most suitable plan, and I didn’t care if the dual type following me had objections. Truthfully I had objections of my own, but I dared not voice them; questioning my own orders would encourage him to whine or complain, then justify his protests by pointing out that I was first to voice my annoyance.

I was no good with numbers or estimations, but I knew that we would have to run for large portions of the journey in order to reach them. I had no problem with that, and apparently the houndoom didn’t either, but...running with him was the thing that irked me. He had been pretty quiet most of the day, and sometimes didn’t respond when I made comments or asked him about something. It was probably his silent revenge for my attitude toward him, but in all honesty, he deserved whatever came to him.

We began to descend a slope of an unusual amount of grass, and I briefly wondered how it was so green amongst the general brown around these parts. It was not something I was familiar with, but imagined that a certain pokémon probably lived nearby that cared for the soil. After we reached the bottom of the hill, the angle of the ground nearly catching me off guard and almost faltering my legs, we came to another part of the forest which had been virtually the same as before. The trees were fairly faded and some were a tiny bit grim, but mostly they were welcoming and partly cosy. I thought that, if some homes and dens were built, this forest would house a group of pokémon very well. Of course, I preferred the luxury of a more developed space, but every community had to begin with a single idea.

“Hey, Flair,” the houndoom began, striding a few paces behind me, “do you actually know where we’re going?”

I furrowed my brow at the question. Of course I knew where I was going. I wouldn’t be blindly leading myself and one other through random territory I wasn’t familiar with if I didn’t have direct instructions to where the hideout was. “Yes,” I told him simply, not deeming the answer important enough to require elaboration.

“A’right,” he accepted, giving a brisk nod I hardly picked up on from my peripherals.

I exhaled and tried to clear my mind as I padded on, picking up the pace into a jog. I imagined he would immediately question my pace increase and make some kind of snide remark, but surprisingly he said nothing. I suddenly wondered if he was backing off to allow me room for the possibility of liking him and accepting him as a temporary – for I would never allow such a pokémon to permanently accompany me – companion. It was entirely possible, since he knew that my temper could definitely judge somebody before my head did, and so far he was pretty much only been judged by my angry temperament. It was his own fault, and I was not prepared to take any sort of responsibility for his actions.

After a while of moving, I noticed that the temperature was beginning to drop bit by bit. It was such a small change that my constantly heated body barely noticed, and I was hardly fazed as I kept going. The houndoom, being a fire type as I was, probably shared the inability to notice temperature changes very easily. I wasn’t all that interested in asking him, but one question certainly gnawed at my mind—a question that annoyed me to know end. The thing was that if I asked this question, I knew it would get me nowhere, and I would be quite annoyed with the results. I reasoned with myself that I was already expecting the answer, and a specific one at that, so there was no point in trying to hope for another one. And if I was expecting one in particular, why would I bother to show hesitation to ask it, for the reason of being dissatisfied by the answer? It was a pretty confusing notion, but I shoved it out the way and just decided to ask.

“So...why exactly are you following me?” I questioned, turning my head to the left as we carried on, and he skipped a few paces, lengthening his strides momentarily to catch up. He was beside me in no time.

“Because I believe you’re foolish,” he told me simply, shrugging a bit as he jogged on.

“Foolish?!” I spat, eyes clouding with a scowl entailing minor confusion. “I’m the foolish one? Oh, I’m sorry—I thought the stalker without a reason to stalk somebody who, I might add, has no desire to be stalked, would be the pokémon considered foolish.” I rolled my eyes, straining them as I kept them angled to show my immense annoyance at this houndoom. He was arrogant and had no cause to make such an accusation. Even if that was not the answer I had been expecting, it was no better.

“I have a reason,” he commented, and my head hovered toward him in a short swivel around. I was confident I would not run head-on into any trees as I faced him, so continued without heed of direction.

“Oh, do you now? And what might that be?”

His sights were set before us, at the trees in the distance, as he admitted, “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

The answer shocked me a little. I heard my brain fall silent as I considered what he had told me. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” I restated flatly. “That is your claim?” I scoffed, finding no evidence to support his words, and saw no harm in challenging the absurd statement. “If you’re gonna insult me, at least choose something that’s true to use against me.” Immediately after I said that, I frowned, reconsidering. No, I didn’t want to hear him insult me about something that was true, either. It was less than ideal to hear my faults.

“It’s not made absent foundations,” he responded, and my mind suspended all thought again, although my legs continued to hurry me along.

“Hey,” I growled lowly, the houndoom coming to a stop as I did the same. I faced him with my body braced and my head down, while he stood upright and without assumption of power or defence. “I was given specific instructions pointing me in the direction of this hideout, you know. I’m the one who knows it’s abandoned, and I’m the one who was given the task to go and find the party.” I raised my head and snorted. “Of course I know what I’m doing!”

At that I felt surely justified. Of course, I didn’t need to provide him with any viable justification, but it felt good to know I was confident about my abilities and the fact that I had been assigned to the task.

The houndoom’s lips curved into a smile, peeling back to reveal his stained pointed teeth. I was once again surprised by his actions. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he reinformed quite confidently, and, the grin still painted on his face, began in the direction we were headed before our paws claimed the same patch of soil for an extended period. The way he sauntered off greatly irritated me, and I could feel my jaw starting to spread with the growing pressure of clenching them tightly together. He was clearly amused by the obliviousness he most likely assumed I possessed, like he found himself to be of much higher importance.

“What do you mean?” I demanded, leaping after him. As he heard my strides, however, I saw a flash of his playful – and completely unwarranted – grin before his bounding fasted, slowing as I slowed to allow me the chance to catch up. He waved his tail playfully and began walking in a peculiar fashion obviously intended to be comical. I was not amused.

He was teasing me. TEASING me! With a twitch of my muzzle, I suddenly shot forward with a burst of speed, watching as he was quick to catch on and sprung off the ground, racing away. He was too fast for me, and as my little legs repeated mechanical actions, I was highly agitated to find that I didn’t nearly match his pace. Immediately my mind went to Zhol, and I scowled as I wished she were here. She would be able to put him in his place.

Blowing smoke through my nostrils, I galloped on, chasing him between trees and in circles over dwarfish hills. At one point he splashed through the river we had been loosely following, clearly elated far beyond my mood, and seemed unaffected as the water clung to his fur and smoothed it flat. I quickly stopped myself before I had the chance to plunge into the shallow waters, slamming my paws down to unearth the soil and bring me to a halt. I eyed the water with wide-eyed caution and a twinge of fear as I shook my head brusquely, tearing myself away from it to travel back in the direction I had been headed before that wretched houndoom had led me on a wild pursuit. I disapproved greatly of his angering behaviour, and grumbled to myself under my breath as I considered his glaring immaturity.

“Such are males,” I growled to myself.

As I stalked off, shoulders hunched and mane fuzzed up around my face, I tried to figure out exactly what he meant. My mind was struggling to come up with anything that made a reasonable amount of sense. I knew that the houndoom was quite fond of teasing me, it seemed, and provoking my tempter, but somehow I sensed he was being truthful, or as truthful as he could have been in his own mind. It was displeasing that he doubted me, because apparently I only had my own faith in myself to draw from and utilise.

I didn’t dwell on the question too much, and instead drew a breath, resetting my mind so I could think something about food. At least food didn’t intentionally aim to piss me off.

***

Tarla stretched her wings, elevating herself to beat them against the air and create gushing gales of wind. It gave her shoulders the repeated movement they needed to keep well and gave her a calming sense of comfort. She tucked them beside her body as she hopped up and settled onto a low-hanging branch under the tree of which the three other party members took shelter. It was open, quite exposed to the rest of the forest, but the atmosphere was tranquil, and it seemed as if nothing would dare disturb their quiet night. She assumed nobody else would want to be disturbed either and bother themselves with pointless efforts to initiate a fight. Four experienced battlers were not to be reckoned with, especially if no harm was intended by them, and no cause for alarm needed to be raised.

“You’re right up there, Fluffy?” the krinar from below called up with a chuckle, a knee bent as he rested an elbow against it, the rest of his arm hanging. His left arm extended behind him for support. Beside him was the kirlia, who sat silently with crossed legs. The granbull was keeping himself occupied with sticks varying in length and thickness around the other side of the trunk.

The altaria gave him a sneer of contempt, turning away whilst pressing her beak together. She heard the ralts evolution question her actions and feign innocence, although Tarla had a feeling he really did believe himself not guilty. That was not of concern to her, however; she wanted some peace and quiet, eager to enjoy Torqueal Forest in all its serenity without an oblivious krinar to present constant irritation on a silver platter. He was a dark red stain of pure annoyance, like a jabbing toothpick in her side, which she had originally found slightly disappointing, but had figured that not many others were as mature as she. It would come with age and experience, she told herself, and long awaited the day he would grow out of it.

Blocking him out didn’t seem to work, however, and as he babbled on, half addressing her in the process, she wondered if his sole purpose was to serve as a sort of symbol for everything annoying that had ever come into existence. The prospect would hardly come as a surprise to her, though, and silently she was thankful that he was incapable of any such ability as cloning himself. She didn’t know how she would cope if there were two of him.

Sick of his voice, the dragon and flying type launched herself off her perch, her back to the small party as she carved an unscheduled path through the air. Her mind swirled with irritation as she heard the cries of the krinar protesting for her return and claiming apologies that she knew meant nothing. It wasn’t long before he presumably gave up, and she exhaled once more, certain that she was not going to be returning for the night. She figured that in the morning, when they passed, she would join up with them. Either that or she would fly ahead by herself.

Finding a suitable tree to spend the night, she climbed the night air and landed her feet on a branch. The smooth bark with raised freckles were comfortable under her scaly toes, and as she shaped herself and felt her feathers settle, she knew she had chosen the right tree with the right branch. Fluffing up, she thought about the next day, when she would probably be asked once again by Derino to again determine their estimated time of arrival at the mountains. If not an estimation of time, then of distance. It was as if he didn’t understand that such vast land was not going to shift at any point during their journey.

Her mind lingered on the thought of those mountains. She again reminded herself of their significance to her. They were both her home and the only place she had been expelled from. She had mixed feelings toward the giant mounds of thickened earth, fickle like the snow that could melt with little to sway it. She was content with the colony, but there was always that lingering feeling...that cruel sadness that reminded her of the point in her life when everything was rejected into a pit of everlasting change.

--
Nothing seemed exactly real; the swablu flew on, not allowing herself the pleasure of gliding until she was far from the flock, and sped onward. She was fairly horrified at what had recently happened. Not only was her dignity spat on and rolled in the mud, but any trace of trust she had with those she thought she knew seemed gone. Her whole life she had lived with them, helped improve it, sought protectors in the older pokémon, and found friends of all ages. It was a pleasant life of happiness, and yet...she was pushed from its embrace like she was never there. Like she never had a chance to make a difference, or to even deserve a place among her kin. She felt as if she had put her whole mind and body into the flock, and it was exceedingly unfair that her banishment was not given a second thought. It was their fault for making such a stupid decision...

The thought suddenly occurred to her that she was endangering her sister even further by allowing her to stay with that flock. She wished with all her heart that she agreed to come with her...even if it meant they were both exiled. At least then they would be able to be together and support one another, even under such circumstances. However, that was clearly impossible as they were separated, and Tarla felt enormous regret for what her sister would be put through. It was as if she alone knew. That was what frightened her as well—her flock was charging headfirst into a foolish decision, and nobody but her realised that. They had had no time to properly consider any of it, and were immensely foolish for pretending they knew the effects on the flock it would have. She knew those so called “benefits” were nothing but lies, whatever they supposedly were.

The wind picked up, blasting her face with more force than before. She noticed with surprise that her thoughts had taken her far from her mountain already; she must have been flying for a minimum of an hour. As she realised that she was flying head-on into a blasting current of wind, she gasped suddenly for air, finding it difficult to swallow anything but more snow as she continued. Sometimes a piece would wedge itself into her nostril, and she had to gather the strength to let a dragonbreath surge through her beak, erupting from the only place it could go—her nostrils. However, using the move repeatedly drained her energy, and as she waded on through the falling snow as the shadowy sky above her bled with increasing darkness, she found herself growing progressively exhausted.

It was not a pleasant feeling as she realised she was drifting away from reality, her wings faltering as she plunged downward into an unintentional dive, but quickly righted herself and shook off, the two stray feathers that sprouted from her head wobbling with her. Another spec of snow became lodged in her left nostril, and she coughed, feeling the strange buzz of the dragonbreath excite her throat before being admitted through the holes atop her beak.

‘I need to rest,’ she thought to herself, and began to cast her glance about. The mountains were endless; the fact that she was not a very effective flier in both manoeuvring and speed did not help her cause, but she doubted the hours of mountains stretched below her would end even if she could fly harder, faster and stronger. She already felt as if she were going to collapse, and she didn’t even try to think of how she might have felt if she had been required to apply more energy to her movements. It would only have drained her more.

She was forced to shield her eyes with her eyelids as she searched for a spot to land somewhere, and began her descent. The snow was growing denser and increased with purpose. She knew the signs to be those of an oncoming blizzard, and she would not have much time before it would be upon her with relentless mercilessness.

Keeping the thought at the fore of her thoughts, she weaved through the air as if attempting to dodge the falling iciness, and watched as a mountain turned from a spiked lump to a detailed expanse of angled land whose elements grew in size as she neared. She could spot trees dotting stray parts of the mountainside that she previously had been too high up to identify—either that or she had simply been unfocused. She gave credibility to the latter thought as much as she did the first.

She figured a rest in the trees would mostly likely keep her safe, but as she neared, the branches nearly in reach, she reconsidered. Resting in a tree would present a number of problems such as her vulnerability, which would surely attract predators. Either that or she would be sheltered none from the fierce weather which she knew was to come, and may not last. She had been caught in a blizzard once before and barely survived, and vowed never to make the same foolish mistakes again.

She was quick to find an alcove in a looming wall of rock far from the ground, so she knew she would be sheltered from any sort of beast looking to satisfy their hunger or rid intruders from their territory. It was a relief that she could sleep both sheltered from the weather and any predators which may have taken her.

As she perched on the edge of the hollow, peering out over the ground and silently staring into the distance to determine which mountain she had come from, she sighed, spilling onto the solid rock with exhaustion and disbelief. She knew it would take her a while to come to terms with her exile, and most importantly, never seeing her sister again. Or, if she did, she feared the circumstances it might be in.

The worst was obvious to her: she would face her as enemy in a fight against the pokémon she chose to stand with, or she would one day find her dead. She could have tried eventually to escape the flock’s grasp once she discovered what exactly she was wedging herself into, what treachery lay with the monsters that the flock thoughtlessly decided to join with, and wound up lost and injured in the process of her escape or the journey to find her older sister.

She found herself clenching her eyes closed and shaking her head, her fluffy wings pasted to the side of her body in a stiff reaction to her painful thoughts. She eyed the ground with sadness she hadn’t really felt in a long time. Not since she and her sister’s mother was taken from them all too early in a flying accident. They had, from then on, sworn never to part, and to be by one another’s side until they were physically incapable. As Tarla surveyed the land before her, unable to find the mountain in the distance from which she hailed, she felt her entire body flop, as if her bones had melted without warning. She would call the situation she was currently facing pretty physically limiting, but she couldn’t help but think that there would have been a way she could convince her sister, the only family she had, to join her. As much as she didn’t want her exiled from the flock that their family had been with for generations, it was more dangerous to remain with them. She wanted least of anything for her sister’s life to be put at risk.

She had always thought the flock independent. Years before when she was but a chick, the flock had been offered an opportunity to join up with a taillow and swellow flock, but due to climatic differences and assorted other factors, her flock declined. It had never accepted an offer to expand with another altaria and swablu flock either, for the sheer purpose of independence, and because it was not at all needed. There was no reason for them to meld, and therefore they did not.

But now...not they not only joined with another group that was not even a flock, but they tarnished all that they had previous stood for. It was as if some spell had been cast by a psychic pokémon to make the elders believe that they were making the right decision. She briefly considered the possibility of this and shook her head in disbelief; she had always respected the elders. They were not easily swayed or tricked, so why was this rash decision so effective?

Releasing a sigh and feeling her limbs lose form again, she turned away from the scenery, as if a promise to separate herself from the flock that betrayed her. None but her sister was blood-related, but they had still been her family. And now not even the one who was blood related was with her any longer.

Her gaze wondered further back into the cave, and she wondered how far back it stretched. She was only able to see shallowly into its depths, only a few metres in, and the rest was a black mist of the unknown. For all she knew, a beartic could have been jammed at the back, calculating the right moment to leap on her and take her life, and then her meat. Nervous, she glanced down the length of her body and tried to convince herself that she looked fairly devoid of meat, and not to be overly tasty. She didn’t eat much meat, but she knew she would have a taste for it when she evolved, as altaria often did. She suspected being part dragon-type had something to do with that. Even though she might not have thought herself nutritionally enticing, it was not herself she needed to convince.

She had to take her chances, and settled where she stood. The chill of the growing winds blasted into the cave, and she shook with the cold, wondering to herself how much she would be able to withstand. The mountain she had lived on was not extensively elevated, and the spot she had presently chosen to rest was at a much higher altitude. It wasn’t much colder than what she was normally used to, but the many caves and alcoves at her home mountain were prefect protected from the blizzard and general weather. Her flock would usually wander near to the back of their caves, and she knew that remaining where she was at the mouth was going to freeze her wings and meld her beak shut—if she could stay put long enough to allow that to occur. She feared she would freeze to death before that happened.

Once more averting her gaze to the ends of the cave, she hoped that it would suddenly become lighter so that she could see. She was hesitant to use a dragonbreath to light the darkness that dove so deeply into the cave, in case she aggravated a pokémon who had called the particular cave home for a period of time she had no chance of matching.

After a good ten minutes of internal debate with herself, she had come to the conclusion that even if she did disturb a pokémon who would clearly not be happy, she could simply fly back out.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and planted her feet. Contemplation soaked her stance before she finally jerked out of her frozen form and brewed a hot batch of sheltered flames. She felt her throat tumble with the dragonbreath as she inhaled once more and fired, sending a crackling stream through the darkness. She watched as little nooks and crannies in the shapeless walls were revealed, the pebbles scattered along the floor also brightening. She noticed that the cave was not long and rounded off only about ten metres away, but right as she silenced her attack, she noticed something peculiar.

She furrowed her brow feathers and fired again, this time short and sharp, like a huff, and expelled a sphere of the dark matter down the left wall, watching as it shot straight through a passage that was to the left of the rounded off section of the cave. Essentially the cave continued on, rather than stopping at the far wall, to the left. She watched as it dissipated before hitting anything, as a fireball composed of dragonbreath was often not stable enough to keep its composition until it hit the target if it was far from when the ball began.

She curiously began to take tiny steps toward it. Her mind warned her against such actions, and encouraged contentment with the end of the cave, the part with a dipped wall which would cradle her and keep her alert if something did come out of the left (or right, if she faced the entrance) passage. If something happened to fly or climb to the cave’s lip before entering the mouth, she would also be prepared. Like her, she assumed any pokémon that could appear would see only endless darkness to begin with, so if escape was necessary, she believed she would have the advantage. Despite struggles against it, curiosity battled with rationality and edged her toward the left passage.

She only took a few steps before she heard movement and wings, and knew instantly that they were not wings of her kind. She didn’t dare fire another sphere of dragonbreath as she stood frozen, unable to move, and knew that something was about to burst from the passage and probably swallow her whole. Worse than that, it could tear at her flesh and eventually place her eyeballs and beak in separate piles.

The imagery fluttered about her mind, and before she had a chance to react into a defensive form, the pokémon spilled into sight, illuminated by the light from outside the cave, and Tarla was thrown backward, tumbling as she unintentionally linked the experience with her banishment. She hadn’t time to identify the pokémon before she realised the force was going to fling her off the lip of the cave and onto the ground below, and struggled against gravity until she dropped from the ledge with a cry of distress.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-four: Past and Present

Tarla was not exactly expecting such a surprise when she woke, a face staring at her with not enough of a distance between them for comfort to be an inclusive factor. She stirred, leaping upright in a matter of milliseconds, and fluttered her wings about, caught off guard.

She looked around, realising she was on the same mountain as presumably five minutes before, and a figure stood over her, a curious face peering back. It was a cobalt colour, with a large pink nose slapped in the middle. Two eyes looked at her, filled with wonder and a hint of sympathy. She at first wondered what on earth this pokémon had to be sympathetic for until she remembered: she was at the mouth of the cave when something had knocked her down, and she must have dropped, landing on the ground and knocking herself out. Her wings had been too stiff to carry her in any direction in order to save herself, and she was aware of that before going over, and was thankful that nothing drastic happened. She was glad to have been stopped by the ground early into her fall; if it was a steeper drop, the chances of her surviving would have been significantly altered. Staring up at this creature again, after averting her eyes, the swablu analysed their face once more.

“Hi,” the pokémon began, in a rather casual and cheery voice. She got the feeling it would have been cheerier had the situation been positive. “Sorry about knocking you off the cliff and all.” The pokémon’s face grew sheepish as the apology washed over her face.

“Why...did you?” Tarla questioned, not game enough to bring her attitude to the fore.

The pokémon extended her dark wings, skin-like and easy to fold, and then settled. “Sometimes there are threats around these parts, and I need to protect myself.”

The swablu, figuring this pokémon was of little threat, waited a moment before rocking herself off her back to stand on her small feet. She wrapped her wings nicely around her body as she looked back to the pokémon. “I’m a swablu,” she stated flatly. “I’m, like, a foot tall.” In comparison, the opposing creature was more than twice her height.

“I...I know, but after you fired that dragonbreath down the narrow passage, I freaked out and erupted from my nest with an aim to drive you out. If you were an axew or something, then you wouldn’t be able to get up here, but if by some chance you did, knocking you off would give you a very hard time trying to get back up again.”

“Right...” the flying and normal type responded, finding the story somewhat reasonable but still irritating. She clamped her beak around the base of several of her feathers and slid, sliding the snow off. She tried to shake the rest from her body, but there was still a considerable amount wedged between several of her feathers. “And in the event that I wasn’t an ‘axew’?”

“Then I apologise and invite you back up to my cave,” the pokémon offered, extending a wing upwards, gesturing to the cave a number of metres from the ground.

The swablu’s eyes clouded with suspicion as a gust of wind blew her feathers in a single direction, chilling her skin. “You don’t know that I’m not a threat.”

The pokémon with wings turned back to her, a look of bemusement on her face. She waited a moment, gave a partly condescending chuckle, and said, “Um...” She looked her up and down. “Like you said, you’re a foot tall.”

A frown slipped onto Tarla’s face, and she growled to herself as the cave-dweller crouched for a split second before launching into the air, flapping her wings in quite a different fashion to what Tarla was used to before landing on the cave’s ledge and entering.

She needed to consider things. It was a question of whether or not she could trust this other pokémon, as well as it being the other way around. The guest must trust the host as the host must trust the guest. It occurred to her, however, that trust would have to be formed quickly, as the winds did not cease and once again ruffled her many blue feathers. She was nearly blown over by a particularly powerful gale, and decided not to take further chances. The cave would have to suffice.

Fluttering upward, struggling to right herself as she began to make her way to the ledge, she struggled with an extra amount of effort before finding the right moment to plunge into the mouth from the side. Any longer and she was sure she would have been captured by the winds and taken for a joyride consisting of everything but joy.

Once inside, the swablu shook off, beginning to preen her feathers again. She watched as the other pokémon clung to the ceiling nearby, hanging upside down. At first she was shocked, and wondered if such behaviour was usual for somebody of this pokémon’s species. As a matter of fact, she was quite unaware of what this pokémon even was.

“I...my name is Tarla,” she informed. Usually she would have demanded the other pokemon’s name first, but she was in little position to show ungratefulness.

The one hanging from the ceiling gave a pleased grunt of acknowledgement and remained here she was. Her wings encased her body as best they could, acting as a sort of shield from any breezes that could have invaded. Tarla was a little uncomfortable, watching from the corner of her eye as the other pokémon remained still with a content smile. She was silent.

She stopped cleaning herself to frown, eying the pokémon from where she stood. “And...you are...?”

“The name’s Kori,” the pokémon said simply, angling her head before dropping down. Her claws clung to the cave floor and she rolled her neck to survey the ceiling, her guest’s gaze following. “I live in this cave.”

“Right...well, I’m a swablu.” She was about to reveal where she usually resided, but thought against it, figuring that this ‘Kori’ would come to know if the time was ever right.

“I know,” she responded with a light smile. “I see your kind around here on occasion.”

The comment surprised her, for she was unaware that there were more flocks within such a close vicinity to hers. Yet it made sense; it wasn’t as if she knew where every flock was, and nor could she know. “I don’t see your kind up where I live.” She stopped, jammed by her own words. It felt wrong, but she went back to correct herself no louder than a mutter. “Where I...used to live.”

“That’s because my kind usually reside in caves.” She demonstrated by hooking herself to the cave ceiling once again.

“What are you?”

“Swoobat,” she answered happily, perched perfectly upside-down.

***

I had decided not to dwell on the fire and dark type’s ambiguous words. I was uninterested in figuring him out, and when I did, I had little doubt that his meaning would be nonsense anyway. One can always afford to be spared nonsense. He was not worth the trouble, really. I didn’t know why I would have any reason to have to listen to him, or even acknowledge that he was speaking. It sounded harsh, but it was true—he did nothing to deserve my attention.

We had settled down under a tree and amongst a small collection of bushes for the night. I wanted to get a decent two hours of sleep before we set off at dawn again, but already I was extremely tired. We had gone for most of the night, and now it was evidently growing to be too much of a burden. My legs were aching and my eyelids were hardly capable of remaining parted; despite a random trail of thoughts, my brain was evidently becoming dysfunctional. I couldn’t register half of what the houndoom was doing as we had walked for a time after I noticed that it was becoming near impossible for me to carry on. It was disappointing, the fact that I couldn’t keep walking through the night as I had planned, but I reconsidered, realising that travelling without sleep was less than ideal. Usually I got a measured amount, but the night before we had left for this journey, the hours hadn’t been plentiful, and I realised that a mere two hours was not going to go over well when we needed to travel again. On top of that, I was completely unsure how we would only be asleep for two hours, but it was my preference. I really relied on the dawn to wake us, even if that was foolish to any degree. Unbeknownst to the houndoom, I was used to being foolish.

After I had fallen asleep, my dreams swirled in confusing patterns and danced through my mind, showing me separate incidents repeated and alternative ways those incidents could have happened. Ever since I had learned of Izante, I had been subject to frequent dreams about her, or containing her... Waking always gave me a sense of irrevocability, of a strict barrier cutting off any previous links with the past I still may have held onto. I would wake from a pleasant dream of our time together, or from a discovery that everything had been a misunderstanding, and she was, in fact, a friend again.

I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to be her friend after all this... She had a heavy level of betrayal slapped across her forehead, and I wasn’t sure if I could trust her again...despite the trust I unfalteringly had for her prior to this. The entire thing had been one painful realisation: trust should not come as easy as it does. And when it is treated as just another simple feeling or assumption, the fool employing it is only setting herself up for injury, both physical and emotional.

When I awoke, it was to the sound of chirping birds and the feel of a gentle breeze. Well, that and a massive tail in front of my face, the arrow-like tip, for some very bizarre reason, running through my tuft. After my mind finally clicked, I leapt backwards, scrambling as my legs momentarily failed to follow proper instruction. Either that or I simply forgot how to control them for a time. “AHH! What are you doing?” I yelped, feelings of violation caused by his unwarranted touch lighting in my head. ‘Who strokes their tails through other’s fur?!’

With a smug snort of amusement, he returned his tail tip to his ankles. He began to stalk off, his head lazily low and his body reasonably level. “Up. Come on. We have ground to cover.” As he paced away, his shoulders constantly forming rises on his upper back, and then disappeared, rotating with the other. His tail waved nonchalantly from left to right.

I emitted another growl; quite frankly, I was getting sick of having to feel such constant negativity flowing through my veins. Each time he even spoke I found myself frowning, annoyed, and figured that the sole reason was that he was an irritating pokémon. Not only was he haughty and condescending, but he also liked to undermine me as a pure joke, dancing around things instead of answering me directly. I found it difficult to understand how anybody would be able to tolerate him, let alone be fond of him.

As I stood, my legs shook, and I was momentarily surprised. I blinked out the heavy feeling in my eyes, closing them for a moment and feeling some brief sense of peace before I heard a grunt from ahead. Looking his way, I snarled as I once again noticed his bemused look. It was one of status: he clearly believed himself above me, and I was not going to tolerate that.

“WHY are you so damn cocky?” I snapped, vaguely startled as I found I had to work to maintain my balance and consciously use the strength of my legs to support my weight. He was paused, so I took advantage of the delay and caught up to him.

“Why are you so damn angry?” was his response, and to it I interlocked my jaws, narrowing my eyes.

“Because you are the most frustrating pokémon I’ve ever had to deal with.” I would have thought such an answer was plainly obvious, but I suppose that those who annoy often don’t realise...otherwise they might not be so annoying.

“Why?” he asked with playful curiosity. “I’m helping you, aren’t I?”

“No,” I hissed disdainfully, and he wasn’t. In no way had he provided one solution to a problem we encountered.

He pushed out a sigh and I could see, from the corner of my eye (as I refused to face him) the nod of his head and an accepting smile of a pokémon only just figuring something out and having the gall to admit it. At least, that’s what I thought he was doing. Until he began shaking his head. Now THAT was a sure sign of condescension. Apparently there was some crucial component of this equation I was missing. According to him, ignorance or pure, innocent lack of information was amusing. Not that I expected any more dignity from a pokémon like him.

The hours wore on, and we were finally coming into a section of the forest I was finding that I quite enjoyed; it was rather pretty. The trees seemed to bend in toward me as I passed at a leisurely pace, my tiredness catching up with me, while the houndoom padded on fairly steadier than I up ahead. He was reasonably fast, but didn’t rush, as he walked faster than me. I could tell he was keeping a pace of purpose; he didn’t want to move too much faster than me, and he was probably also not keen to allow me to catch up. I got the impression that males like him preferred to be in the lead, to have the females strung along behind them, and the notion made me sick. I couldn’t imagine following somebody my whole life, let alone some controlling male. It wasn’t my style, and I intended to let him know.

“You know, I really don’t enjoy having you around,” I grunted toxically, and he continued in front of me, his shoulders again sharing the spotlight as one protruded and then dipped down, allowing the other to create a lump of bone on his upper back.

“I don’t enjoy your bullying, Flair,” he muttered, angling his snout toward me.

“It’s not bullying,” I scoffed. “It’s called the truth. You annoy me, so I tell you. Get how it works?”

“I can’t help it if you’re angry all the time,” he shrugged. His tone, feigning carelessness, irritated me, surprisingly.

“I-I’m not a—” I cut myself off as my mind paused to think. With a shocking realisation, I realised that he was right. My tempter was fierce, but usually I could control it. He was barely doing a thing to annoy me, and yet I...was acting as if he did something unforgivable. I mean, sure, he was annoying, but it wasn’t anything to really get my fire in a helix about. Even so, I was not about to admit something like that to him... If he wanted me to play nice, he needed to put in some sort of effort as well. I cleared my throat. “I’m angry because—”

“Izante?”

Suddenly my mind emptied. My eyes grew and my legs seized up, and I felt myself begin to shake. My eyes were fixed on him as they continued to remain open, the sting of not blinking prodding at my eyes like small pine needles. My mouth parted a fraction, and I felt my ears remain completely erect upon my skull. It was if the entire forest silenced to listen.

“H...how...” My lip trembled, jerking as I made an effort to control it. My toes felt cold. “D-do you...know...?” I could hardly finish my sentence as he stopped up ahead, turning with his legs planted and his face stern. There was still room for expression and looseness, but for the most part it was solid.

“...Flair, come on. We have to keep mov—”

“HOW do you know?” I hissed, seriousness seeping into my words. I felt as if I was in a staring contest with him. He was relatively calm, but I couldn’t tell if he regretted revealing such information. The details were obviously still hidden, but I was keen to pry them from his jaws. “Tell me...how?” I pressed, bringing a paw forward as my voice dropped. My mind whizzed with several thoughts, and once more I felt another part of me begin to tremble.

The houndoom narrowed his eyes, exhaling a little before taking a seat. The sight of him resting came as a surprise to me; I was uncomfortable with the fact that he had stopped. I was standing still, and yet that did not seem to register as something of a bother.

When nothing spilled from his mouth, my throat began to rumble with a warning. Still the houndoom stared at me, not intent on commenting. I felt my breathing hasten as I drilled my pointed gaze into his skull, but the effect seemed to have no hold on him. He just sat, heedless of my angered demeanour growing with intensity by the second, and stared.

The trembling, although still happening, became much less of an issue as my leg muscles tensed and I lunged forward with a roar, a stream of fire licking my teeth and ripping from my maw. He looked momentarily shocked before bringing up a front paw to shield his face. I continued the stream while leaping until I crashed into him and we tumbled again onto the forest floor, pricked with sticks and pointed stones once more.

We rolled for a short time before he stopped and I flopped off beside him, leaping to my paws as I stared back at him, agitated and extremely wary. If he knew such private information about me, then what in the world had he been doing? Spying on me? It occurred to me that he could have been acquaintances with Izante.

“Do you KNOW her?” In my rage, it took me a moment to realise that even if he did know her, there was little chance he could have found out...unless the fearow she had climbed onto on the ship had taken her to land to meet the houndoom at an organised specific location. Although somewhat of a stretch, it was possible. “Are you trying to kill me? Is that it? Revenge for what I did to all those pokémon on the ship? How I spoiled the precious Team Rocket’s plan to ravage all their prisoners and turn them into monsters like Sed?!” I glowered at him as he slowly worked his paws to the ground and lifted himself. “I saved them! And...and Izante was the one trying to make them her captives. Slaves of those humans! I don’t regret a single thing that I did on that ship. Nothing,” I hissed. “So gimme your best shot. Then we’ll see which one of us is superior!”

Lowering my top half, back legs and rump still in the air, I felt my forelegs press against the soil, the fur presumably collecting dirt and leaves. My mane felt as if it was thickening, and I braced myself for any oncoming attack. At the same time, I boiled inside. I boiled with all that was happening: this houndoom’s presence, the mention of Izante, his hidden knowledge—even the fact that Izante herself was a traitorous coward, and now it was discovered that this houndoom could have been as well.

“I can’t...take...any more betrayals.”

My jaw tightened, nose twitching as I felt my eyes buzz and a glaze of salt liquid became existent over my eyeballs. I shook more intensely, feeling the rising temperature in my belly. I could nearly taste the flames as I held it down, summoning a different power easiest to harness when my emotions were at their peak; I was utterly infuriated, upset and confused as I glared, forcing the horrible thoughts to the front of my mind. I could not ignore this. It had to be dealt with, and I didn’t want to think about consequences. My assault would provide an outcome, that of which I was intentionally not focusing on.

The built up-energy suddenly burst forth as I shot toward him, head lowered as I calculated my course. He was on two feet and easily side-stepped the attack, and I growled at myself for launching it much too far away. Pivoting, I came back around and tried again, but again he moved out of reach. I came to a halt, my teeth exposed as I felt the flames licking my lips through the gaps in my jaws, tinges of black, blue and purple sparking through at the same time. My rage was certainly at its most prevalent, and with hostile eyes, I charged forward, tearing through the air with jaws wide-set. I was sure I had successfully torn particles of the air as I came upon him, my mouth suddenly exploding with a burst of shadowy flames. It appeared in an enormous sphere, one at least twice the size of my head, followed by a short line of fire, the after-effect of my effort to call forth the flames.

The houndoom was evidently expecting some sort of physical attack, and therefore his avoidance of my lunge did him no good, my head having been tilted in his direction when the dark, fiery matter spilled from my mouth. It slammed into him with great force, the shadow ball element having been extremely effective in my current state, and he seemed to tense up involuntarily, blown onto his back legs before he toppled backwards. My breathing was rapid as I looked on from a short distance away, and before he even touched the ground, I was racing toward him once more. I prepared a toxic attack, spitting a somewhat weak version over his momentarily vulnerable body, and stopped, my eyes flashing before I dove at him, aiming for his neck as vicious snarls rippled from my throat. I snapped at his fur before he fired a weak shadow ball of his own, blowing me off his chest and he, to my great annoyance and slight surprise, rolled to the side and back onto his paws.

“Dusty, stop it!” he yelled, and I nearly faltered at the mention of my name, and the fact that he knew that too. He had tried to address me properly, as opposed to with his petty nickname, which inexplicably enraged me even further.

I felt myself vibrating with increasing anger as I felt my chest pump air into my lungs, the extreme rapidity surprising even me. I briefly thought that it was partly because of the physical exertion, but also knew it had a lot to do with my anger. The entire battle was fuelled by this same feeling, which I was not about to think deeply about, for fear of it ceasing if I noticed a flaw.

I growled again as I galloped his way, and I saw a flash of an urgent frown as he jumped out the way, not skilful enough to avoid the flamethrower I expelled by simply changing the position of my head. He was engulfed by the brief flames before he glared at me again, but I was glad he did. He had to get involved in this, otherwise I wouldn’t feel as justified and I would win without a proper contest. However, I wasn’t sure if that thought even bothered me—I was going to win regardless, and if it meant I had to play dirty, I had no objection.

“No! Tell me!” I demanded, temporarily paused. My paws were tense as they bored into the ground, and I watched as the houndoom, cringing, rose to a stand again. I reminded myself not to be surprised when he did so, as my attacks were of fire, the same as him, so expecting them to do a large amount of damage was unrealistic. He didn’t respond, and I felt my throat heat up with a new breath of smoke. “If you don’t tell me, I won’t stop.”

He stared at me, bewilderment and something else I didn’t want to consider in my state of mind on his face, and did nothing besides that. He just...watched. In response to this, my jaws clenching as tightly as they could be squeezed, I bounded forward, kicking up sprayed sand as I skidded, watching as it leapt into his eyes and occupied some of his mouth, separating his jaws in a shriek.

His eyes remained bound for just enough time for me to come upon him, slamming into him and tossing him back, my maw clamping somewhere around his collar bone. At this the houndoom reacted surprisingly quickly, and I felt the sting of fire as it washed over my body. But I was used to it, as he should have known, and the attack did not cause me much of a hindrance. When he bit down on my neck fur, however, cutting through my mane and reaching my neck to weakly catch it in his mouth, I growled, ripping away from him and rejecting his poor attempt to attack me.

As I came away, I felt a tooth tear my flesh, and although it was small, it began bleeding. The pain was hardly anything to take notice of; as I stared back at this houndoom, I could tell he was far worse off than I.

“Flair...stop,” he pleaded, but I was not going to listen. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“Not unless you tell me,” I yelped, enraged. My eyes bulged and my mouth accompanied a harsher frown upon my jaws. He didn’t look at me as he seemed to contemplate, and he sighed a rough sigh. “I won’t stop, houndoom, until you—”

“I have an inside ‘mon.” The words came from his mouth in a sigh, as a shamed confession would, but I was failing to understand how that was something to link with shame. I wondered for a moment what he meant; did he have a personal spy who was a part of Team Rocket? “In the colony,” he clarified, and suddenly the picture began to make sense.

My mind turned to the past, replaying the reel that showed me of when I completed the task of telling the colony about Izante, and about my experiences on the ship. ‘That would make sense...but why would he take that long to tell me something so simple?’ A snarl worked its way onto my face as I hissed, “Why was that so secret?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he proclaimed, staring without a hint of excitement. His face was blank and empty, as if I had done something to greatly offend him.

As I spat his fur from my tongue and breathed out the dust that had accumulated in my nostrils over the course of the fight, I couldn’t imagine what it was that I had done. However, I thought it best not to dwell on such things, and my eyes wondered back to him, our chests heaving.

We both stood, breathing hard, as our eyes sparked with the unspoken rivalry we had somehow created in that moment. It lasted several seconds, and in that time neither of us blinked. I turned away as my eyelids came down, and when I opened them again, my glance was cast somewhere into the depths of the forest. I noticed that, up ahead, the vegetation broke off and continued in a particular pattern, with trees less frequent but still enormously abundant, and a canopy woven of protective leaves and intertwining branches. Without the opportunity to focus more on it than I needed to at that point, I returned my glare, the impact lessening with each passing moment as his did the same.

The seconds continued to pass, becoming increasingly casual as we broke the line of sight and mine dropped, scanning the dirt. When another few moments provided something of little worth, I nodded inwardly, accepting that I probably wasn’t going to get any more information out of him. At that point, as I noticed my breathing decreasing and my neck beginning to pulse with the small wound, I turned away from him, beginning to advance in the direction we should have been heading, which was to my left and his right. I began to pad off, head lowered as a result from the exerted effort and the mood I found myself in, my paws each narrowly escaping a scrape against the ground as they swayed low. My tail was little to be concerned about; in its halved state, it could not have reached the ground unless I sat. The thought was patronising and angering, and once again I found myself wondering how it came to be halved.

The question gripped me tighter than I would have realised, and I began to scan the events of the hunt Shard, Zhol and I had been on. Surely, I had figured, it was the scyther who had delivered the severing slice, but as I flipped through the many moments, I realised that there were hardly times that he and I were in each other’s company. It seemed a little senseless to blame him when he could have had no part in it, but I didn’t entirely close off the possibility. Instead I tried to figure out at which point I had felt a portion lighter than any time before that. I was unable to deduce such a thing, given how I was too distracted by those sandslash and... ‘Hang on...it was around then that I noticed it was a half.’ I thought to the events before the battle with the ground types, remembering the rockfall that had occurred shortly after I so skilfully caught that buneary.

I was in a wicked panic as I whipped around and absorbed the sight of my trapped tail. I squealed with desperation, swiping at the ground as if it would lift the rock and make it roll off the edge, but to my horror the reality of the situation dawned on me.

I was stuck.

‘Okay,’ I told myself, ‘that’s a start...’ I hardly needed to strain as I freshly recalled that it had been Zhol that set me free as her strong claws had descended onto the rock that threatened my tail’s wellbeing.

“You saved my life!” She whirled around and barely skimmed my face before zipping to my side and hesitated before slicing through the boulder and releasing my tail. I was overwhelmed and strongly grateful, and I wanted to find Zhol all the prey in the world to drop at her feet and watch her indulge in.

‘That’s right. She broke...’ At that point, a frown settled deeper into my brow. I blinked a number of times, replaying the scene in my head several times. ‘Wait...’

She whirled around and barely skimmed my face before zipping to my side and hesitated before slicing through the boulder and releasing my tail.

‘She hesitated,’ I reiterated to myself, and as realisation flooded into my mind, it occurred to me that I had not heard a boulder shattering. In the midst of the smashes of other boulders and rumbles and yells, it was hard to tell, but I had not heard her claws shatter rock. In fact...it seemed utterly ridiculous, looking back, that she was able to “slice” through a rock. Even a sneasel’s claws would need to be trained for such exercises before the feat would be possible, and something told me that hers were not. My dance of violence with the ground types was shortly after, and that was when it came to my attention that I had merely half a tail. Planting my feet, I whirled around and began to stalk back the way I came, determined to conclude this mystery.

The houndoom strode toward me a few metres to my left and stopped, watching me pass as I failed to meet his curious gaze. “Party’s this way,” he informed.

“I’m aware,” I uttered, jabbing the words through his skin as I proceeded. A number of paces on, I heard him raise his voice, as we had been separated by a few metres.

“Then why are you going that way?”

“I have to confirm something,” I explained briefly, hissing as I kept walking. I knew that if I returned to the site we had fought those wild pokémon at, I could potentially find the other half of my tail still pinned beneath that rock. That would confirm everything. The thought of insignificance and pettiness crossed my mind, only to be dismissed without consideration.

I heard the gallop of the fire and dark type behind me as he caught up, to my annoyance, and demanded, “What are you doing?”

I shoved him aside with a forceful timed lean and padded off. “I have to see something.”

“Have to see what?”

The frustration itched at my nerves. “I have to know what happened to my tail,” I spat, knowing he would not understand.

“...Your tail?” he restated in a disapproving form of confusion. “Flair, you shouldn’t be doing that now.”

I refused to meet his eyes as he tried to catch them. “I’m not taking advice from an idiot.”

“Nobody’s asking you to take your own advice,” he responded, hardly intending the comment as a sarcastic one.

A growl rumbling in my throat, I spun around with planted paws and glared. “No, you thick-headed dolt; you’re the idiot.”

I could tell he was marginally smug after manipulating me to face him. I continued on and he shuffled after me. “What do you hope for that to achieve?” I didn’t respond as I let him prattle on. “You do know that...you’ve had half a tail for a while now. It was only a half when I found you in that “secret spot” your sneasel friend often likes to tuck herself away into.”

At his mention of Zhol, I growled again. Evidently it bothered me that he was aware who my friends were. I decided not to question him as I remembered his “contact” in the colony.

“Come on,” he began, stepping in front of me, forcing my legs to stop. He stared at me for a few moments. “What’s that gonna do? You have an Usster party to catch up with. Y’ know, a duty?”

I analysed his eyes for a few moments before brushing past him, hearing a sigh pass through his lips. “Go home, Idiot.”

“You’re wasting time.”

I paused, staring at the dirt in my head’s shadow. I could feel my half-tail brushing against my back legs as I stood, realising that he was right. I was wasting time. Time was what ended my friendship with Izante and revealed her identity. Had it not been for time, things could have stayed the same. I could name several times when I had wasted time I could have otherwise cherished with her, or my master. She was always in the back of my mind; occasionally I would hear her voice and spin around, ready to leap into her arms again. But every time I completed the turn, I saw nothing but a bush or a boulder. Sometimes it was another pokémon who had called my name.

At those points was when I regretted my failure to use time most effectively—to spend it with her, my dear, beloved human, and thank the great Arceus for blessing me with her company every day. But that time was gone. That time had been cut short, and I had to revalidate the reason I looking for her: on top of the fact that I had no idea where I was to look, my destructive efforts on the ship of a powerful criminal organisation evidently earned me a bounty. I had known that since Zhol offered me a spot in her colony—that if I was to take my chances and look for Master, I would only be endangering her if we ever met up. I wasn’t willing to take that risk.

Heaving a sigh, I thought about the purpose of that party’s mission. Finding this abandoned hideout would give us the chance to find some kind of clue as to what the “Rokont Organisation” was about, perhaps, and lead us to some kind of importance. We had to find out why those three pokémon, Sed and Tooloo being two of them, were so keen on attacking me. I had assumed that it had something to do with this assumed bounty I had acquired after the incident on the Rockets’ ship. And perhaps we would figure out who exactly wanted all those pokémon captured, and for what reason. It certainly didn’t happen every day, although I did recall many strong and some rare pokémon, so perhaps it was a type of sweep: a trap to collect as many pokémon as they could and find use for some of them. I didn’t want to know what the intended fates for the rejects were.

I thought about my tail, and how insignificant finding its missing half to conclude something that didn’t even matter was. It suddenly seemed ridiculous that I cared so much about a hunk of fur when countless pokémon were in endless potential danger, and when I had a chance of helping eradicate that threat. Flashing to the thought of Izante and my master once more, I stared at my toes. I didn’t want to waste time anymore.

With a rumbling throat, I pulled myself around, mapping the road ahead as I returned to the path that felt right above my other choice. I could feel the houndoom’s smile shining through my back as I padded away, and I tried my hardest to ignore it. Whatever words spewed from his mouth, whatever actions radiated from his body—they were not to be taken into account. I refused to believe his advice or actions were of any sort of worth.

He caught up to me in no more than four bounds, and we pressed on through the forest, aware for anything we needed to be on the lookout for. Several places on my body hurt, including the sections that were damaged while on the hunting trip the other day, but truth be told...I was glad to have stopped fighting. Battling was a sport I thoroughly enjoyed, but as I kept my head low, somewhat ashamed of my recent behaviour yet still upholding opinion that I was fairly justified, I realised that I had probably made a mistake that, although cost us little, could have cost us more.

***

After having left the cave the swoobat had so generously offered for her to take refuge in until the snowstorm came to a standstill, which ended up being in the morning, Tarla was considerably saddened. The swoobat was the only friend she had known since the colony’s banishment. Realistically she had only met the flying and psychic type a fraction over an hour after she had been banished, but the isolation that consumed her the moment she dropped from that cliff and flapped her wings furiously as the elder dropped down after her was a sort of proclamation that she was alone. Perhaps for a long time, and maybe for the entirety of what remained of her life.

After being expelled from her home, she felt as if she didn’t deserve to live anywhere else. She had already stained the grounds she had previously lived, so why did she deserve another chance with a separate flock? She knew she could certainly never live with another altaria flock—that much was definite. Yet she still longed for the touch of a caring family, or the closest she would be able to near.

Kori had been both helpful and kind, and the fact that another had shared their home with Tarla gave her an inch more hope. The fact that she was an outcast, as revealed sometime into her stay, had not bothered her new friend at all. If the swablu was entitled to address her as such. She wasn’t sure if she was just in assuming that they shared a friendship, but tried not to ruin the thought with unpleasant questions.

She was sad to leave, but she felt a calling from another direction, on another path. She couldn’t have stayed anyway; that was Kori’s mountain, and it would feel wrong to impede.

“But I’m alone anyway,” she had begged, her wings sagging too much to allow her to remain airborne. Most of the time Tarla had spent with her, she had been on the ground, but had also been suspended with utmost glee; she obviously enjoyed the feeling and cherished her ability as an aerial pokémon.

“I can’t stay here,” Tarla had reiterated, and felt the drop of her own wings as she realised there was no way she could let herself stay. “It’s not just that, it’s...” She had looked up, the pair of flying types perched right before the edge of the cliff, and lay her eyes in the distance. “I’m...too close to my flock. I need to get away from here. I don’t want to live here any longer.”

The swoobat had looked at her with eyes of deepening depression, and one glance turned Tarla’s stomach. She was simultaneously regretful for turning down the offer, but her need for relocation was far greater. She didn’t reveal to the swoobat that she valued her too much, even after only a short time, to see her at risk; if the flock were to find out that she was being sheltered not two hours’ distance from their living grounds, they were entitled to attack. If somebody were to recognise her, she would be in danger of an assault, and anyone with her would probably not escape their notice.

“I’m sorry...I have to go,” the swablu had insisted, hardly able to look her friend in the face. The swoobat, as Tarla had realised, did not understand her want to get away. She didn’t seem to know what it was like to have been banished, and because of that, she didn’t think it made sense that Tarla would escape all reminders of her past in order to move on. It frightened the swablu herself, and if she felt she could stay, that there wasn’t that grief attached to the great mountains and their high altitudes, she would have taken Kori’s offer at first suggestion. She felt somehow selfish for rejecting her offer, especially considering the psychic type was eager to have her friend remain, as she was keen to remain with her.

As her wings broke through the weak streams of wind, the swablu’s mind wandered back to the recent two hours she had spent contemplating this. Her many swirling thoughts told her differing things—some to stay and some convincing her that she had made the right choice. However, she wasn’t entirely sure as she powered on, reluctant to believe that she had no choice in the matter. She could have stayed. She could have remained with this new friend, and an amazing friendship could have blossomed. But she again was not sure... What if she had stayed, only to come to realise that the pokémon was not suitable to live with? She may have eaten completely different things and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps they had separate resting habits, and would disturb the other or not even be in the cave at the same times. Or perhaps she could have gotten caught in a blizzard on her way back to the cave sometime, unable to free herself from the wind’s cruel grasp.

‘This is ridiculous,’ she told herself bitterly, closing her eyes as a gust of wind blew freezing air into her face. ‘I’ve only known her for a single night.’ The straining effort her mind went to did not fit the friendship they held. She thought it could have been that she was grateful for the hospitality; after all, without Kori she would have frozen in the cold or been eaten by whatever else could have lived in that cave had it not been home to her.

Attempting to clear her mind of all thought relating to the issue, she continued on after having to decrease the distance she had wedged between her and the ground. The frigid air stung her body and she found it difficult to move her wings as frequently as she needed. For yet another half hour she ploughed on, dodging leaves and branches of trees welcoming her position change.

She came close to plunging into the ground in a number of occasions, but each time managed to right herself to avoid the collision. For a time she flew aimlessly, regretting her decision to part with Kori and her home. She wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, honestly. She did the thing she thought resembled right the most, and even if that was difficult, it was all she could do.

She hardly saw any pokémon at all. There were few scattering the mountain she had lived at; mostly ice types dwelled there, and very occasionally she would see other flying types soar past. She recalled a few times that she had spotted one, felt excitement brew in her mind, and had taken off to meet with them. Often they were not in the mood for conversation, as they were either lost or agitated by the frigid air. Tarla could never quite understand how others could not stand the cold, as she was so used to it. She had never seen a desert, but from what she had heard of it, it seemed completely the opposite of snowy mountains. She could not imagine living there. She wondered if any pokémon could.

The swablu made her way wearily on, resting for a few hours in a snow-laden tree before fluttering away to resume her search for permanent residency. She was rather devoid of intention, and she knew that as she worked her wings without the need to register the strokes; flying came naturally and therefore she was able to focus the thoughts in her mind on something else. That channel always led her mind to a certain single thought: she did not know where she was headed. She had no idea how she was going to survive, either, after living her entire life with a flock and having others to rely on. But she had been exiled from that flock. She had become a loner, an outcast.
She had no home.

Embracing the thought with little more than a fleck of acknowledgement, she squeezed out a few tears; they worked their way off her face in response to the wind’s demands and some of them soaking into her wings.

Avoiding a russet trunk suddenly upon her after she emerged from a tree sprouting many leaves, she gave a cheep of surprise, pulling up to slant herself away. When she realised she would have to soar through the spiny bare branches, she bound her eyes, encountering surprise each time one of the sticks scratched her flesh. None dealt recognisable damage, thankfully, and as she was freed from the tangled limbs, she felt several agitations about her body, but nothing that caused her to bleed or scar.

“Stuff this,” she grumbled, powering her wings to lift herself further up. “I’m taking to higher skies.”

It wasn’t long until she desired another rest, partly because she was the tiniest bit paranoid that the sticks had cut her in places that were numbed by the cold, and therefore unrecognisable unless inspected closely. She could see that the snowy regions began to meld with regular land on her left; she had been able to see this for hours now, but had purposely stuck to the mountains. Although she did not exactly plan to stay within their masses, she was hesitant to part with them. She felt that separating herself from all she had ever known was a symbol of some finality to end this whole situation—she would be cursed with the burden of exile, forever to live with the shame she brought her flock in order for the banishment to take place.

Veering off to the right, or south as she knew, away from the land and toward the ocean that stretched to one side of the vast strip of mountains, she hardly noticed as a metallic ring filled the air. The screeching of steel caught her attention after a few moments of consideration. She recognised the consistent beats as wing movements, and blinked in succession.

A forceful current of wind picked her up, tumbling her aside and rendering her wings completely useless in the spiral of its force. She struggled to maintain any sort of balance until a number of frightening seconds after, and once upright, she turned to the source of the attack. A great steel bird – at least, she thought that’s what it must have been – hovered but a few metres away, its eyes fierce and beak nipping at the air.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!” Tarla protested as the pokémon sped toward her, faster than any speed she was capable of matching.

The bird pokémon only screeched in return, driving a wing directly into her cheek and causing her to falter. The blow was surprisingly painful, and the full extent of the pain alerted her as she felt it pulse a few moments after being clobbered.

“I said...stop!” she cried, breathing unevenly to summon a burning collection of flames in her small body. They erupted from her beak, consuming the metal creature. It made no noise as it remained, cringing while still able to effortlessly flap its wings.

Tarla nearly celebrated at the attack’s success before the dragonbreath subsided, fading into nothing, and creature before her revealed its eyes as if it had suffered no type of injury. It displayed only demeaning contempt as it glared back at her, and suddenly she knew she was about to be punished.

***

“Come on, Tarla!”

From an unrestful sleep the altaria stirred, the world around her fuzzy as she shook her head, frowning to gaze over her branch and spot a small collection of pokémon. The krinar, Etire, was waving his arm, using the other hand to cup beside his mouth for projection. Rentana paused to wait while Derino powered heedlessly along.

She grumbled a response and proceeded to stretch. As her neck curled, she remembered the permanent ‘gift’ of a scar granted by that skarmory. She had never discovered what that creature’s excuse was for its vicious attack, but frankly she no longer cared. All she knew was that she was thankful it happened.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-five: Unearthed

Idiot had told me that the forest’s name had apparently changed when we had suddenly encountered a change in the style. The morning had taken us into the part I had seen from a distance and to its reaches, where the trees were patterned differently, in an interesting and pleasant arrangement, and I found it quite peaceful to walk through. We were nearing the end, however, and the style would soon change. My thoughts didn’t remain on the idea for long though; as I clearly knew, it seemed that most good things were not built to last.

I had resisted the urge to speak with the houndoom at all times since our fight, and it seemed avoidance was becoming a large issue between us. He clearly had no problem with communication between us, but I was simply reluctant to open my mouth at him, unless in a growl or a string of muttered insults he usually didn’t hear.

Regardless, we weren’t exactly friends, and that made it considerably painful to travel with him. I really would have liked to journey with somebody who I actually liked, and it was unfair that I apparently had no choice but to be stuck with him.

“Look.” I turned to him at last, ceasing my walking. He looked up in response, hardly an implication of mischief engraved in his face. “I don’t like having you around. We’ve established that. It just...might be nice if we could get along.”

He cocked the fur of his eyebrow, and that gesture alone, a smug expression to follow, made me clench my jaw in annoyance. “That could be instantly possible.” At the statement I gave a tiny frown of curiosity and then nodded to myself, glad we were in agreement. “If you tried to be nice, maybe.”

I threw him a glare. “Maybe I could be if I found it possible to like you.”

“What’s not to like?” he asked, placing himself behind me and sitting on his haunches, spine straight. He reached a foreleg out a little ways and modelled his other front leg in a similar fashion, holding still. I bit my bottom lip, trying to conceal the laughter that would have bubbled from my mouth had it not been that infernal houndoom displaying such ridiculousness. It was obviously intended; his face was a permanent neutral expression with a hint of mock seriousness.

I pretended to be unfazed and flicked my head with clear disregard, moving my legs again as I walked away. “That’s right,” I said as I passed him, “beg for my approval.”

“Begging?” I heard him ask, and to the surprised comment, I allowed my lips to bend up into a sly smile. “This isn’t begging.” The notion of his pride becoming wounded was of utmost amusement, as was his reaction to my meaningless remark. I heard the soft thud of his paws touch the ground, accompanied by the sound of dried leaves separating. He paused before bounding toward me and stopping by my side. “Do you seriously think that was begging? Because it wasn’t,” he added, as if keen for clarification. I didn’t respond at this, however, and merely kept walking, internally smug as I tried not to let it show on the outside. “This is begging.” To my surprise, the dark and fire type snaked from my left and rolled out in front of me, curling his paws in and poking out his bottom lip while eying me with a sadness that was difficult to take seriously.

I jerked with the laughter I forced down, reluctant to embrace it while he looked. As amusing as I found the gesture, and after realising he hadn’t taken my remark to heart at all, instead deciding to play on it, I knew that making him believe it was funny would only encourage him—and that was not what I needed.

I walked around him, padding on as I heard him shuffle and reapproach. “Come on, Flair. I know you thought that was funny. You looked like you were trying to keep fifty bees locked inside your mouth; let ‘em out. Have a bit of fun.”

I inhaled deeply, quelling any remaining laughter, and turned to him. “You think I should have a bit of fun, do you?”

The houndoom gave a shrug-like dip of the head in agreement “I think you need to loosen up a bit, yeah. You’re tense. You look like you couldn’t enjoy yourself even if you were confined to an empty theme park with fully operational rides.”

I turned to him curiously, surprised he knew what such a thing was. For a wild pokémon living in the absence of a trainer, I would have thought such knowledge was not available. However, I avoided touching on the subject simply because I wasn’t curious enough. “Being given an entire theme park, unless it brought back my trainer, would be useless to me.” I reasoned after the statement, adding, “Well, I’d have my fun first, and then I’d deem it useless. I mean, I’d have to employ human or able-bodied pokémon to do repairs, to run the ticket booth, operate the rides –” I paused to throw a glare of obviousness his way “– they don’t work on their own. To clean up the vomit, maintenance... That’s too much work for one flareon.”

“Well, don’t look to me for upkeep. I’d do my own and that’s it,” he explained heartily.

“Have no fear,” I clarified plainly, raising my brow at him, “I wouldn’t want you on my theme park staff unless you were the only other pokémon alive.”

“So you...would want me?” he inquired, clearly trying to slip thought the loophole in my idea.

“Actually,” I began after considering, “no. I mean, what’s the point in having a theme park all to yourself if you’re the only one there? It would be meaningless to run it ‘cause there’d be nobody there to run it for.”

“Well, there are still two left,” corrected the dual type, and I shrugged, shaking my head.

“It’s too much effort to manage for just a single customer, though.” I stepped on a rock, momentarily elevating myself before stepping off it.

“You’d be allowed to go on it as well.” He flashed me a grin.

I glanced to him with a scoff and a brow pressing down on my eyes accompanied by a knowing smile. “I am the customer. You’re just a worker.”

He chuckled at the comment, bopping his head side to side in recognition of defeat. “I don’t deter from the point—you don’t let yourself have enough fun.”

“I have plenty of fun. Fun is easy to have.” I felt myself growing a little impatient at this point, and I shrugged my shoulders, removing my eyes from his face to instead search the memories lingering in my mind. “Like when...” I continue to shake my head in little movements, relatively blank. “Like, um...”

“When I had to save you from those enraged sandslash?” he questioned, his overbearing annoyingness returning.

I pinched his eyes with a glare. “Yeah, I’d forgotten how much fun that was,” I responded with evident sarcasm, adopting a lowered condescending tone conveying striking obviousness. “Like... Well, I...”

“Maybe when you almost fell into that raging river. Before I saved you, of course. It was a long drop.”

“Oh, shut up,” I growled, still unable to detect a moment over the past few weeks, the separation with my trainer. The notation sort of surprised me. Sure, it was true that I had been in some bleak situations, but surely there had been some moments of enjoyment. “Well, I...guess I had more fun with Master than anything...”

“You had a trainer?” he asked, nearly as if it was a statement and not a query.

Silence ran cold between us, and it was a while before I could look at him. “I did...do...” Before fumbling and tripping over my sentence, I stopped to take a moment to think. “I have a human, yes, and will return to her after...things.”

“Things?” he pressed, keeping his distance.

“YES, things.”

“How can you return to someone after ‘things’?” he wondered, volume low as he presumably tried to solve such a ‘riddle.’

“If you had a brain, you could use it to figure it out.” I gave an agitated huff. “You should consider getting one. I’m sure you can find a contractor around here somewhere,” I sneered. “Or around some human laboratory. I would caution you not to go there if I cared, but, oh, I don’t.” I stopped, dark eyes meeting his. He looked surprised at the harsh remark, and I snorted before continuing. “Why are you still here?”

“You keep asking me, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer,” he shrugged, pacing beside me. “I’m bored. You’re alone and vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable?” I questioned, a little bit offended. Vulnerability had never been something I was overly prone to. I was rather tough on the outside, and was fine with protecting myself. It was not a challenge, provided my opponent wasn’t four times my size and doused in water or some kind of thick armour. As I glanced around, moving my eyes without my head, I came to the conclusion that pokémon fitting that description were not accustomed to calling these sorts of woods their home. “I don’t think that’s your reason.”

“Well, for one, I have knowledge of this area. It’s vaguely mapped out in my mind, unlike you, a pokémon not even from around these parts.”

“Tell me,” I began, flicking to him as we continued to walk, “what exactly were you doing at Boon’s colony? What possessed you to make Zhol and I have to stay there?” I felt like rolling my eyes at the memory of that ridiculous quarrel between two colonies which was easily solved with some brainpower on my sneasel friend’s part.

“I come and go,” he replied, but gave nothing more after that. I decided not to press; any chance to have him silent was one I planned to take.

The walk continued for a time until we ascended a rise that, at its top, overlooked a region becoming snowier as it stretched into the distance. With a sudden jolt, I noticed that we were close to the mountain range. The lands before the base of the great mountains were interesting; some were caved paths between masses of rigid rock, and other parts were regular glades that were surrounded by winter trees. The mountain itself looked somewhat intricate, as I could see from even a distance.

I had never been up a mountain before, and I wasn’t sure what I thought of the prospect. Somewhat frightened, although that would never reach the houndoom’s ears, but simultaneously exciting. I amused myself at the knowledge that the same factor created two coexisting feelings of relative difference in my mind.

“Well this terrain looks...challenging,” I concluded without particular emotion. I hadn’t yet assigned a singular one to form the reaction to what I could see. There was still a lot to cross before we got to the mountain, and at that knowledge I sighed.

“Crossing those fields there will be easy,” he told me, gesturing to the regular tree-less land before the small quarry of rocks shot up from the ground, and further on, changed shape to create some type of maze. “But those rocks... I would chance missing them.”

Past the short-lasted quarry, many of the rocks melded with ones surrounding them, and created a thick expanse impossible to squeeze between. From what I could see, the walls of rock, extending for leagues in all directions but forward, which was a small amount shorter before it reached other lands our side of the mountain’s base, did not look climbable. The only choice was to take the paths through them, which I could see were slicing through in clear paths, but at the same time, looked complicated to follow and dangerous if threatened by rockfalls. The thought returned me to the hunting trip I had been on, and could nearly feel the rapid heartbeat in my chest urging me to rush forward, on high alert for anything that could have fallen upon me and squashed my spine.

The bandages Aemara had wrapped around my leg had mostly slipped off, and only a single one remained on my back ankle, because of travel, but the memory of the small wounds was still present, and made them pulse with reawakening.

“It doesn’t look like we can do that,” I grumbled, waiting a moment before tearing my gaze from the scenery below toward the houndoom. “Hey.”

His eyes flashed to me and he drew his head back, shaking it as he went. “Well don’t ask me! You don’t want my help, remember?”

I felt my belly push out a rather forced breath of air. “If you know a way to cross without having to get through that bit first, then tell me.”

“I might. I might not,” he said, his upper body descending into a stretch. His tail, still elevated by his butt, waved around childishly.

I gave an audible sigh riddled with annoyance and flicked my tail with agitation, the effect much less than that it could have been had it been full, and regrettably less than the dark type’s. “You’re useless,” I growled, taking off down the slope. As I went, he followed humbly, and I wasn’t sure if he was just going along with what I had chosen, or if he planned on breaking off and taking this shortcut he may or may not have had. If he did, I had reason to believe he would tell me.

It took him a moment, but when he was by my side again, he looked at me, failing to get a response. “I don’t believe your pride would get in the way of your self-respect,” he assumed.

“Pride is self-respect,” I responded, and I could tell he wasn’t going to take that for an answer.

“Pride is reputation. Self-respect is knowing that you will waste time and make yourself look the fool for letting your pride obstruct your better judgement. And therefore you choose it before your pride.” He had a good point, but I was unwilling to let him win.

I knew why he was doing this and telling me such things. It was his aim to make me turn away from that dignity which always shot him down and prevented me from listening to him for a reasonable purpose, and give in to him, even if the result helped me more in the end. I wasn’t a stranger to the idea, but I wasn’t entirely fond of it either. I looked up at the path before me, noting the quarry. It didn’t seem too bad...mostly hindering and time consuming. There were also small lakes of ice before even the quarry, and it didn’t appear that there was another way to go in order to avoid them. Even if they were frozen, I hated lakes. I had learned that as a permanent fact after Izante had forced me into one—the whole reason I got into this mess.

Another gruff sigh rumbled in my throat before I came to a gradual stop and clenched my jaws, unable to open them for at least ten seconds while he waited with raised brows and eyelids half closed. “If you have another way, spill it.”

“It’s also much faster,” he informed, and for a moment I thought I must have missed his answer. “They’ll be somewhere between here and the expanse of rock. To catch up to them, it’ll only take this shortcut.”

“What kind of a shortcut is it, exactly?” I demanded, glaring around in an effort to catch sight of it.

A grin licked his chops. “I’ll show you.”

He began again off to the left, pursuing the entrance to this so called “shortcut.” I didn’t want to have to doubt him until I saw it for myself, but something told me that it was the safest way to go. Besides, there was no harm in taking a shortcut. I tried to wonder what he could instead be leading me to, and figured there wasn’t much around this part that would cause terrible consequences. I followed him, and it wasn’t long before we came to a dip in the earth, probably about the size of an average room on the Rockets’ ship.

He dropped down into the ditch, as it was only around two metres to the bottom, and steadied himself as he turned around and waited for me to descend. I didn’t make it down so quickly, however, and instead I tried to edge my way down carefully, my senses alert and my muscles fairly tense. I inched my top half down, trying to ground myself by pressing on the wall only slightly angled, but as soon as my back legs left the surface level and began to clamber at the wall, as the top half of my body was doing, I lost all grip. I skidded along the gravelly wall for a moment, becoming dislodged shortly after and tumbling to the ground.

I released bottled air as I landed on my right side, the earth forcing it from my chest. It took not a second later for breath to return, and once it did, I got to my feet and noted the houndoom holding a bemused expression. “Shut up,” I grumbled, looking around to my right, as that was the direction we needed to go, and where the ditch’s length stretched to before stopping.

I frowned, seeing nothing but the curved wall that came back around me on both sides, curling again to meet some distance behind me. It was as if somebody had captured a humungous kadabra and asked them to use their spoon to dig out a dip in the earth. I shuddered to think how huge that psychic type would have to have been, but dismissed it as soon as I realised I was forming ridiculous stories in my mind.

“So what now, genius?” I growled, spinning around to find him at the other end, behind me, where a gaping opening sat wide-mouthed before us.

“You have a habit of calling me Idiot, and now it’s Genius? Make up your mind, Flair,” he teased, jerking his head at the entrance to what looked like a tunnel.

“It’s headed the wrong way,” I objected flatly, turning to him with expectation for an answer after looking in the opposite direction, to my right, where we realistically needed to go.

“Yeah, that’s the funny thing. You see, there’s this new thing that tunnels do called turning. It means that the tunnels bend to change direction. It’s just so weird!” he blabbed, his tone painfully patronising.

“Ya know, there’s also this weird thing called ‘you’re a jerk’!” I hissed, feeling a sudden urge to throw something heavy at his face. I began to proceed into the tunnel when I stopped myself, my suspended paw not yet with the permission to enter. I peered partway into the underground path, unable to see anything – not even the floor – due to an absence of light. With a wondering thought, I turned around and placed my clouded eyes where I wanted them. “Tell me, genius, how exactly are we supposed to see?”

“See?” he questioned with a bit of a laugh, coming up beside me. “You’re going to provide a flame, that’s how.”

“...Right. While you do what? Oh, hmm, let’s see...nothing? Sounds about right. You get to waltz through there without a care in the world, while I provide the light. Do you know how draining that gets?” a second after the question, I felt somewhat stupid, as he was a fire type. Of course he knew. He saw this in my reconsidering expression and looked to be once again amused, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Alright, come on. This is a bet. Fair game of fire breather. Loser has to provide the light.”

His trademark greasy grin wormed its way onto his face. “You’re on, Flair.”

Within an instant, we were both firing flamethrowers directly toward the ground, a little ways from the entrance as we stood side-on. I felt my breath quickly escaping; I hadn’t taken a large enough breath before I’d started, and that was always the loser’s undoing. Determined, I continued to push out a stream of flames, feeling the control for my breathing slipping away; I felt like a deflating balloon, and soon enough, stress in my shoulder muscles became apparent. My fire was weakening, as was the houndoom’s, but it was clear who was to be the victor.

I forced it from my jaws at a steady pace until I could provide it with life no longer, every inch of me screaming for air, and as I cut it off, it felt like an eternity before I drew my next breath. My chest expanded with the welcoming of oxygen, and I could relax, focusing on giving myself air for the next few seconds. I had lost, but the satisfaction came onto the winner’s face when the loser made eye contact. I tried to resist, but as he said nothing, I rolled my eyes and averted them, seeing his smugness as he shrugged, as if he hardly cared about his win. I knew otherwise, however, and whirled around to come face to face with the gaping entrance to the tunnels again. I huffed reluctantly as I continued to regain my breath.

The impending darkness was somewhat daunting after being so used to light surrounding me, even during night hours, when the moon showed its friendly face and lit my way. This, however, was more like some kind of mouth. We would travel down the endless oesophagus and become permanently swallowed food, ripe for digestion in whatever foul liquids happened to impede our way. Anything could have been down there. Reasoning with myself, however, I concluded that the houndoom would not lead me into a death trap. He may have been a tool and an idiot, but I was fairly certain he wasn’t a murderer. Or suicidal.

“Come on,” he urged, trying to hurry me along.

I blew a puff of smoke from my nostrils, waiting another few moments before I sprouted a flame.

***

Trees leisurely sped by as hurried legs powered on. Two lone figures ran through the woods, their statures extremely different to each other as they both avoided uprooted themselves on fallen logs and roots that periodically threatened to block their ways. One, a quadruped, wad reasonably faster than the other, and a more urgent drive pushed the figure through, occasional growls and complaints spilling from the creature’s mouth. The other, quite content with running on two legs as two arms flapped about in a useless accompaniment, was slower and less hurried, giving a strong sense of contrast to the duo.

As they continued on, the tiredness they had accumulated during the night they had barely slept through in an effort to reach their goal increasing, the quadruped narrowed her eyes and continued her focus. The blue fur covering her body shimmered somewhat each time the sunlight caught glimpses of her through the canopy, and highlighted the darker coloured patches patterning her back.

“And then I find out she’s staying with us? I mean, at that point, I didn’t think things could get any worse, and yet...” The pokémon trailed off, clearly conflicted about something. She eyed the ground, barely able to define the details of any leaf or stone that whizzed by, and then looked up to the quagsire beside her, stretched out and tilted like some sort of running weasel. His face held a smile without further complication, his simple eyes set on the road ahead. Not once did he show a sign of response. “Ugh...never mind,” the glaceon growled, turning her gaze back to the road.

It wasn’t long after she had caught wind of that troublesome flareon, who she had been unfortunately sent after to travel with and see safely to the mountains. She had been highly unimpressed with the fact that she had left, as confirmed by the teddiursa child, hours before the assigned time, going directly against the colony leader’s orders. In consequence, the ice type was forced to pursue her and keep a regularly speedy pace, all the while tracking her movements. She was glad she managed to follow the right trail, but what was strange about it was the second scent, which indicated another that had been with her, and likely still was. She knew the scent. She was quite confident about whose it was, yet constantly denied it, trying to pinpoint any sort of reason that houndoom would have for travelling with Dusty but unable to come up with feasible results.

It was not a minute later that an unusual sight popped into view. Distorted undergrowth and blackened trunks made up a small area that was obviously the result of a battle or some kind of disagreement. She hardly found it odd. She was well aware of how annoying that houndoom could get, and figured that if it was him, which she did not find herself doubting – especially due to the strong scent that, she found, was unmistakably his – then it was no surprise that the flareon would have launched into an assault. There had been times when the glaceon herself lost control of her temper, and in almost all situations that he had been in her presence, it was his snide remarks and overall provocative nature that had caused it.

“Figures,” she whispered to herself, hardly pausing as the tiny battlefield showed itself before she left it in her wake, and continued on, the quagsire without a single implication of stopping. “I don’t know why Habib wanted to let her join,” she growled, digging through her mind for answers.

Every time she decided to say something negative about the fire type, however, she was constantly reminded of the one thing that caused her guilt. It was true that she may have been frustrating and possibly not trustworthy, but she had initiative. The glaceon was willing to admit that much, at least, as well as the fact that she had courage. She was unsure if she would have had the gall to do what Dusty had done, especially when it came to the lone act that looped in her mind.

-- --

The flareon threw herself into me, forcing a cry of shock to ring from my throat as we soared for a moment before hitting the deck, her body falling onto mine. I had no idea what had happened until I angled my head, spotting the nearby human with a raised gun, clearly after just firing. For a second I felt a pang of panic wash through me as I visited the possibility that she had been shot.

“MOVE!” she shouted, my legs suddenly finding cause to work. I shuffled from underneath her, my mouth agape in the shock of realisation. Had she just pushed me out the way of a bullet? One that was meant for me? I wasn’t sure, but as another gunshot exploded in the air, a second bullet flew directly past one of her ears and claimed a nick.

The shock took me by surprise, holding me in place as I stared after getting to my paws, disbelieving of what had just happened. I wanted to deny that this flareon, someone who I was sure I had established a mutual dislike with, had just saved my life in possible exchange for hers. I knew she was not mortally wounded, or so my mind told me as I saw no fatal injury or extensive blood. My mind presented strong bewilderment; such an act was in need of repayment. The sheer surprise of the situation was what captured me in its astounding embrace, and as a result, I found myself staring at her, eyes perceiving her in a new light. As someone...possibly trustworthy, and perhaps even capable of earning the title, upon earning it formally, friend.

“Why are you—” she hissed, and paused to moan in discomfort, “—just standing there?!” The question was a good one, but I found myself unable to answer as she sneered and barked, “Get away!”

The severity of the situation caused me to listen to her, and without thinking, I flashed a look of all that bewilderment tangled with very subtle gratefulness, turned and ran, bounding away from what I realised could quite possibly have been the act leading to her demise.

Immediately I regretting fleeing, but it had obviously been what she had wanted, and returning would only cause problems. Instead I quickly came upon Luck, who I had definitely been surprised to see with the flareon when she made the announcement in the crate. I had been entirely oblivious to his capture until that point.

Coming into his view as he swatted a ninjask from the air, I shouted at him, gaining his attention. “It’s Dusty; she’s in trouble! Human, gun; that way,” I panted, jerking my head in the direction I had come. Very quickly he nodded, uttering thanks for my assistance, obviously intending to end the human’s pitiful life. I watched solemnly as he thudded hurriedly away, and hoped with regret for a bundle of things that the flareon would be saved. Although she had initially been an annoyance, this act alone had proven that she was of some worth.

It made me question myself, wondering if I would have done the same if I was in her situation. As painful as it was, each time the question rang throughout my mind, the answer was always no.

-- --

Azure shook her head violently as she and Splash continued, reluctant to admit that she was undoubtedly in debt. What the flareon had done for her – to give her a second chance – was something she had never been taught. Not from the moment her clan rejected her for the odd patterning of her back. They had deemed her some sort of outcast, different, even for something as meagre as different markings. Some believed it was a sign from the Underworld, the mark of something devilish and sinister. For a time, Azure had believed them.

She shook the past from her mind and blinked out any visions clouding her sight, making the decision to focus ahead. Hopefully they would come upon Dusty and her dark type companion soon, but she was willing to bet that they still had a little ways to travel.

Sighing, the glaceon and the accompanying quagsire exchanged not another word for around another hour, by which time she had come to the end of the forest and looked out upon the ranges before the mountain. She disliked the thought of crossing the expanse of multiple terrains, and turned her sights elsewhere, discovering the familiar ditch that she had encountered in the past. She wondered if the houndoom had chosen to take the underground route, and determined by the scorched ground near the entrance that he must have.

In the time that she had known he was with Dusty, she knew that he was doing so in the absence of hostility. Although she probably showed it to him, he had no such intentions, which posed the question: what exactly did he want? He knew he wasn’t welcome within the colony, and Azure in particular condemned him for her own reasons. She knew that showing unnecessary contempt in Dusty’s presence was unwise, however, and came to the conclusion that she and the houndoom would remain silent about private affairs. Hopefully he would agree to the same policy. After all, he probably lacked any desire, as did she, to expose such matters to the flareon. If he wanted to remain friends with Dusty – if they were even that – then he wished to save both himself and the ice type a large portion of strife, he would keep his smart trap sealed. If he would, she would.

Casting the thought momentarily aside, the glaceon slid down the rim of the crumbly wall before pushing off and landing gracefully onto the packed soil. She turned to see the quagsire lie on his side and stretch his arms up before he began rolling down the wall.

Azure scoffed, averting her eyes with embarrassment and hoped that nobody had seen. She cleared her throat and looked back to him as he stood upright once more, a look of placidity gracing his oblivious face. She felt like face-pawing as she heaved a gruff sigh and stalked toward the entrance to the cave, unsure how she would have any hope of seeing in the wretched darkness.

Thinking quietly, she snatched a long branch suitable to be carried in her maw, making sure to angle it to fit as she and her temporary companion slipped inside, hoping soon enough to meet with the two fire types.

***

We had been padding for a short time in silence, my mouth providing the flame and therefore disabling speech, when the houndoom spoke. “Dusty...” It got my attention, but I didn’t turn in case I disturbed the fire. “Who were you fighting back there?”

He presumably saw the frown upon my face as I recoiled a little, unsure what he meant. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

“Back there, when you attacked me.” At this I was not any less confused. He could tell what kind of question I itched to ask and its enhancing tone, and decided to clarify. “You were firing attacks at me, yes, but...you weren’t fighting me. Your mind was elsewhere.”

I blinked, wishing to swallow, but unsure if it would put out the fire or not. ‘Who is he to assume that? He can’t just decide what I’m thinking and what I’m not. He can’t know anything for sure.’

For a moment I wondered why the fire was not yet out; the tiny flame I had spurted wavered weakly in the darkness, as it took constant breath to keep it going, and I quickly reminded myself that it was lucky I could breathe in while, instead of breathing out, simply pushing my cheeks to empty the air already filling my mouth. It lased but a moment, and required concentration, but I was able to maintain an appropriate and much-needed cycle. I wasn’t sure how it would go without this knowledge; perhaps the uselessness of it all would require me to extinguish the flame for a temporary time, and the thought seemed tedious—lighting and then relighting flames was annoying, especially ones that feed only off the heat one provides and the air one pumps into it. It took more effort than one would think. But that was the element of fire in a nutshell. Unpredictable.

He tilted his head, his mouth open as if to say something, his eyes in place and scanning the ground as we walked. “I wonder...who it was that you were fighting. If not me, then someone else that annoys you,” he guessed, and I wanted to cease the fire to tell him that he was pretty much the only one that ground my nerves. Sure, Tarla and Azure, as well as Cupborn, were all variations of irritating, but in their case it was somewhat minor and part of who they were. This pokémon annoyed others on purpose.

‘Who cares who I was “fighting” anyway? I don’t get why this is something he needs to get his precious little tail in a knot over.’ The frown on my face remained as I realised that I didn’t have a way to tell him any of this accurately.

“Maybe it was someone who you’re mad at,” he mused, bringing up his head to walk more casually as he moulded his face into expressions I wasn’t even sure that houndoom could make. “Someone that wronged you horribly.”

I suddenly realised something. He was intentionally saying all this with a mock-curious voice, indicating that he had figured it out a considerable time ago, but didn’t bother to let me know. Instead he played mind games and spoke with a tone making me wonder about his conclusion to the situation. ‘There is NO DOUBT he is the most annoying pokémon ever to enter my life.’

“Someone...that graced the days of your childhood but now haunts the nights in your sleep?”

The words caught me off guard, and I felt a horrible pain in my stomach, as if a beedrill had just shoved a jagged forearm into my gut and twisted. ‘He...he means...’

“Someone you thought you trusted, but doesn’t even reach the title of friend anymore.” His face grew somewhat solemn, still holding that element of playfulness I wasn’t sure was necessary at that moment.

‘Why...do I have to be reminded of this?’ my mind questioned, and my expression hardened, as if a permanent engraving of sadness would forever be carved onto my face. I found it hard to shake the feeling, my expression constantly returning to what it had been not a second before.

“Someone who you thought you were over.”

I suffered a metaphorical blow to the chest and felt my head lower as a reflex, my eyes scraping the soil that approached underneath. “Stop it,” I commanded, more weakness to my voice that strength. Immediately the surrounding area lost its glow, and we were absorbed by the darkness.

Neither of us moved as I remained still, my shoulders up by the sides of my head, my mane failing to provide its usual comfort; I recognised it as prickly and intrusive. My tail only felt wrong, the weight not nearly enough as it pathetically sagged from my rear end. We both stayed in silence as the thoughts hung heavily in the air, invading my mind and probably resting harmlessly on his.

“Don’t...not again.” I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, regardless of whether or not I could actually see anything. “Do you know...how hard I have tried...to forget that? How much I have denied its actuality—how I have been forced to pretend like she never did exist?” I waited a number of seconds, the answer not reaching my ears. I doubted that he was even thinking about it. “But you know what? ...It doesn’t work. There’s nothing to suggest that she never was; I have no proof in my mind that she never entered my life. Every day I live with these memories...” I fought to keep myself calm, but the rising emotion was making it increasingly difficult. “You wouldn’t understand. Nobody could understand unless they’d been through the same thing. Yes, I can remember those good times...and yes, I wish with my entire being that she was once again beside me, helping me through things as I helped her.” I breathed out in a despondent chuckle, shaking my head with a slowness that surely branded my position as a hopeless one. I didn’t care that he couldn’t see; he could probably hear it in my voice.

“Betrayal is rough,” he began, and I was momentarily surprised by his evident showing of sincerity. “Trust me; I know.” I was aware he was about to follow with ‘but.’ “But you’re taking this really badly.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” I snarled, hearing the disdain in my voice swell.

“No, Dusty. Listen to me.” Again with my name. “Look...you can see how this is affecting you.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is...I think you need to find a way to deal with this. You’re clearly not coping.” I could hear him shuffle closer, and I fought the feeling of dejectedness; I had to be strong. I had to replace it with anger. Even in knowing so, it faltered as I once again realised that anger was an inefficient protection mechanism against sorrow. They complimented each other. One led to the other, and it worked the other way around just as easily.

“I’m warning you,” I growled, biting down on the inside of my cheek as I recognised the lingering frailty. ‘No.’

“The way you attacked me back there was a prime example. You couldn’t physically reach the problem, so you went for the nearest thing that you could sink your teeth into. You exploded with anger at one mention of this pokémon’s name. You’re unstable.”

“I KNOW!” I boomed, and immediately silenced myself, despite my wishes to continue. I closed off my connection with sight as I sealed my eyes.

He took another step. “Then why don’t you address it?”

“I don’t know HOW,” I explained with an increasing hint of desperation to my shuddering voice.

“Why don’t you just...get over it?”

My eyes snapped open.

In a roar of flames, I shot forward, halting when my face came within an inch of his. My burning hate for him suddenly welled, and I felt myself wishing many awful things upon his pitiful existence. My heart rate increased, my breathing jagged, and I bit down with such pressure that I thought my teeth might split. The rise of exaggerated ire was like a rotating fireball in my chest, spreading through my body and fuelling every action that followed. “Don’t you DARE use that on me!” I thundered, his face lighting up with orange illumination every second or so words, searing flames bouncing around in my mouth and singeing the air in front of my teeth, only to dissipate and be replaced shortly after. It danced in horizontal streaks as my head moved in a fashion to invite such behaviour. “You do NOT have the right to tell me what to do with my emotions!”

Using every inch of my strength, I resisted erupting with fire and lunging at him with bared sharp teeth. I felt my legs quaking with the desire to stretch out and quench their extreme desire for blood, for his punishment. Breath entered my nose and exited again with uncategorised fragmentation while my ears pricked their air with their elongated stiffness. My head, swimming with mad sorrow and lividity, pounded with this need and with that, mostly the desire to direct my heated hate to unleash it and thereby be done with the problem.

I blocked out all reason as I focused solely on what I wanted at that moment: some kind of rightful justice for his careless words, and with great shame, I felt myself wanting unwarranted closure. I wanted to avoid all this conflict, even if my rage spoke out contradictorily, and with a random spark of something I couldn’t identify, I thought closure would give me peace. If he could somehow, in some way, provide me with it, then I would have been grateful. Reluctantly so, but grateful nonetheless. The thought angered me; I didn’t want to condone his reckless behaviour. He had no right to say those things. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“Did you ever consider,” I spat, scorn soaking my words as I forgot the momentary gap in my anger, “how much she meant to me? Do you not realise that she was my best friend for years?” The raging tornado inside me twisted and clambered its way to the fore of my thoughts. “How can you not see why this is affecting me? Are you that blind?” My head began to tilt, my anger twitching my nose. “Do you not know what that’s like?!” The flames still seeped between my teeth, light flickering between us as my gaze jumped between his two eyes. “Or are you that insolent, that shameless that you have none to lose?”

I obviously struck a nerve when, as the fire tested the air before my mouth, I notice his face change in the disappearing dim light. He didn’t look enormously offended or affected, but the result was good enough, and from there I planned to work; planned to dig up his core and lacerate anything that gave him internal comfort.

Interrupting our ‘discussion’ was a set of pawsteps in the distance. With no more than another few seconds to determine, it became clear that they were closing in on us. It was difficult to estimate any sort of detail, but I knew that it couldn’t have been a heavy foe, one who would have broken the earth in its effort to chase its prey.

The fuming odium still burning brightly in my chest, I faced the direction they would be coming from—where we had come. The houndoom did the same, and I watched as I could hear them near. Deciding fast and in the midst of my anger, I charged up a flamethrower, eyes clouded with anger. These cave dwellers wanted to interrupt somebody’s conversation? They could interrupt someone else’s. It frustrated me to no end that such a situation was suspended for interruption.

Constricting my stomach muscles and exhaling with more effort than a normal breath would take, I fired a powerful stream of flames, ones that whipped about and illuminated the path to both sides, as well as partway into the path cutting across; we had just come from the right of the intersection, left when we were travelling the path and turned onto the one we resided on now. The fire hammered the ground, flames gushing in multiple directions as the fire seemed to separate where it met with the earth to snake its way to another victim.

I had no idea what the houndoom thought, but for some nonsensical reason he probably disapproved. Frustration riding my tone, I waited, listening for any sort of change in pace of the pursuers. However, I soon came to realise that listening while expelling a long line of flames was not exactly efficient or really that possible, so I cut it off, only realising as I did so that I was fairly out of breath. I panted; it had been a reasonable effort.

The pawsteps had not subsided, but they certainly sounded more controlled. To my annoyance they kept coming, and I shot a glare to the houndoom, who clearly couldn’t see me with the absence of fire, our eyes not accustomed to the dark. “Can’t you use your brain and give us some light?”

It went unsaid that I had exerted enough energy, both in previously lighting our path and now because of the defence I was clearly willing to uphold, as opposed to his...nothing. He hesitated, but probably realised I was right and spurted a flame from his lips, keeping it at the end of his muzzle. In response, I prepared myself, only a few metres from him and more from the tunnel we had been in and come from, and kept my head low.

There were familiar shouts which suddenly reached my ears, my legs losing their formation. It took me a moment to realise what was happening and who it was when they burst into the tunnel, catching me off guard in my moment of contemplation. “...Azure,” I commented to myself with a perplexed frown, my anger beginning to somehow quell. A quagsire appeared behind her, the last few steps of his ridiculous two-limbed run displayed as he stopped beside her. I finally registered, remembering Habib’s word about the other pokémon that were supposed to be accompanying me.

She said nothing as her eyes settled on me before quickly switching to the houndoom. I knew she would want to know who on earth he was, but I really had no desire to explain. If he wanted to her to know, he could tell her himself.

Without warning, the flame died out. Nothing lit the tunnel as the houndoom failed to relight his fire, and with a constant rumble, I began listening. Something told me that he was not keen on meeting with others. The noise of tiny shuffling met my ears from my right, and instantly I pounced, crashing into something larger than me and skidding across the rocky earth. Quickly I allowed flames to circle in my mouth, as if I was about to spit a fireball onto his face, and watched as he cowered beneath my dominance. He sighed as Azure commanded Splash to situate himself beside me, probably in an effort to warn the fire and a dark type with a pokémon who had two elements he was weak to at his disposal.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, and I watched him make an odd face of discomfort but acknowledgement for his imprisonment.

Slowly I climbed off him, allowing him to get to his feet. I kept the rotating fireball in my jaws, mostly for light, and waited for judgement. When none came, and the dual type merely locked eyes with the glaceon, who tossed the short branch she had been carrying onto the ground. Without another moment of hesitation, I spat my fire at the stick and watched as it lit up. Azure instructed the quagsire to hold it, as his paws were most suited for carrying such things.

“What the hell are you doing?” I needed not remind him that he had made a break for it in the direction both we and the newly arrived had come. “Retreating? You still have to guide me.” I lit a flame between sentences to ensure he knew I was serious. Something told me he didn’t plan on escaping while the quagsire stood in front of him. “You run at the sight of a glaceon?” I questioned incredulously with an appropriate hint of mockery. It was quite amusing that he found a pokémon of a type he was strong against to be frightening. It certainly didn’t appear as if he began to flee because of the quagsire.

He exhaled again, clearly unhappy to have been caught. “Alright, Azure,” he began, and I recoiled in surprise, blinking repeatedly as I flicked between the two.

‘They know each other?’

The glaceon remained silent, and I turned to her, momentarily forgetting the collar I needed to keep clamped around the houndoom’s neck. “What’re you doing?” He spoke quite casually, agitated and partially suspicious.

“I was instructed to accompany Dusty,” she answered, her voice steady and her stature trying to come across as authoritative. I had a feeling she was only attempting to keep her cool, but at the same time wasn’t going to lose it with ease. I could tell she wanted to question him on his motives, but something held her back. He seemed to have some sort of invisible control over her.

“Habib’s lapdog, I see.” He narrowed his eyes, giving her a greasy sneer. “From one to another, hey? And yet you still can’t remain loyal—”

“Shut up, Zaion,” she snapped, and I was caught by so many surprises that I wasn’t sure which was the most confusing. My head and his rotated simultaneously, our eyes exchanging an unspoken gain of knowledge. This was the first I had heard of his name, and somehow it felt weird. It was then that I noticed confusion had taken the place of my anger. Not entirely, but a decent amount.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

Silence filled the cave as the ice type glanced away, a frown pasted upon her face. Surely she could have scented him on her way to us, so if she hadn’t wanted to encounter him, why had she come? Perhaps...Zaion...was wrong, and her loyalties lay with just one leader. His statement had confused me; what on earth had he meant? ‘Loyalties? Is it that Azure belongs to anther colony and hasn’t told Habib? If so, that wouldn’t be hard to correct, and I doubt Habib would even be against the idea.’ I considered the possibility that this houndoom’s definition of loyalty was something as simple as that, whether the one she was meant to remain loyal to minded or not.

Nobody wished to enlighten me as Azure trudged scornfully past, Zaion watching her as she went. I too followed her, but returned to the fire and dark type to shake my head in question. He barely responded as he got to his paws and stood, signalling with a flick of his head for us to continue. The quagsire sat complacently, a smile plastered upon his face as he held the torch tipped with fire.

“Um...what do I do with him?” I asked, mainly directing it at the glaceon.

“Splash, come,” she commanded dully, not making an effort to turn her head as she spoke. She continued on, head low and tail drooping. The water and ground type happily waddled in her wake, surpassing every one of us in height. The thought of having a large pokémon like him, probably ruthless when instructed and of two types that I, like the houndoom, was weak to. I made a mental note to stay on his good side.

Tossing my head questioningly at Idiot...or Zaion...I shook my head lightly, still confused and asking silently for answers. He merely exhaled and padded past me without any degree of hastiness, and I was left to stand in place, wondering how this had managed to turn into such a strange situation. I hardly knew what to think.

Scowling, I turned away, following the others further into the cave and hopefully in the right direction.

[Suicune's Fire]

Chapter Twenty-six: Knock-knock

It was an expectation of mine to see ground type pokémon. I thought they would be nearly everywhere, littering the hardened earth and burrowing through its core, carving paths that would soon be forgotten. Sometimes I thought of it to be quite a nasty scheme; a ground type could just dig its way through a section of the ground and wait for prey above – either that or any unsuspecting trespasser – to fall through the weaker parts and be sucked into the earth. I never really thought about that while living on the surface until the underground tunnels revealed such possibilities to me. It seemed somewhat unrealistic that some heftier pokémon could trek on the surface without falling into a hole that they themselves happened to make within that small collection of seconds.

Sometimes the ceiling above me would arch so high that I found it unbelievable that there was stable land on top. Some part of me was glad for relocating to this lower level, but part of me was worried—as well as the danger of being a pokémon on the outside falling down, for us there was a danger of them falling on us. I didn’t wish such a death upon any of the pokémon I was travelling with, let alone me, as even the houndoom did not escape my concern.

He and Azure, Splash and I had been trudging through an ongoing tunnel for a short time – possibly about half an hour, during which my temper managed to cool off – and in that time, hardly a word was uttered. I wanted to ask him how he knew Azure, but I knew the chances of him answering that were low. If he hadn’t told me yet, and he hadn’t before they met up with us, then I didn’t imagine he had a wish to tell me at all. I stopped myself from huffing when I compared it with my own wishes—I wouldn’t want him to know of any personal information about me. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from wanting to hear about his relationship with the ice type. It wasn’t as if I could ask Splash either. He was as dull as the surrounding cave walls, and provided no such entertainment. Not even words. It hadn’t been long since they met up with us, but I had a feeling that the dual type was not accustomed to talking much, if at all, and it even crossed my mind that perhaps he wasn’t capable.

After coming to a forked path and hearing the two canine pokémon argue over which way was the correct one, we eventually decided to follow Azure. I had no idea if the action was wise or not, but she gave us little choice as she began to strut down the tunnel she chose with little more than acknowledgement that there was another direction. Zaion (I still had trouble attaching the name to the face) was less than impressed or even accepting as we continued, and he dropped back to pad with me, a firmer gait and more focused attention suggesting that he was more alert that usual. He was clearly annoyed to have been overridden with the glaceon’s choice, and looked to firmly believe we would end up somewhere we didn’t have a desire to go.

Realising my chance had arrived to try to get some information out of him, I warily glanced up ahead to check that Azure’s ears were too far out of reach to hear our words. “Houndoom,” I hissed quietly, hoping the blubbery form of the quagsire between us and the glaceon would block some of the sound. “What’s going on? How do you know her?”

He looked relieved if anything that I had spoken, although the implication was so miniscule that I had to recheck if that was what it really was. His eyes didn’t meet mine as he muttered, “We’re...old friends.”

“You don’t look like friends to me,” I mumbled. “Neither do you sound like it. Or even smell like it. It’s like there’s some wafting stench of hate emanating equally from the both of you.”

He only allowed a frown to press atop his eyes, and curled his mouth into an expression of berating confusion, as if I had said something absurd and completely unrelated... And then I realised I had. “Maybe ‘friends’ isn’t the exact term to use.”

“No,” I agreed with several nods, following his line of sight past the powder blue pokémon and landing on the glaceon up ahead. “It certainly doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s mere past quarrels is all,” he told me simply, and I knew from that statement that he was not inclined to tell me more. As much as I wanted to know, it wasn’t going to happen.

After another short while, we had come to an opening that overlooked a cavern far down below, which had opened up from the path we had been travelling to create a large roughly circular area. The distance amazed me; I wasn’t aware that the cave spanned so far downward. It was the distance that a short cliff would be from the ground, but when it was beneath the surface, it seemed all the more strange to see. There was a narrow ledge curving from our right that ran along the outside of the large room and descended for a time before it dropped off. The height of the end of the ledge, which stopped before the directly opposite side of the room to which we were standing, was still too great to be able to drop from. That was, unless one was willing to call themselves experts (but even then chance a broken leg). On the left side of the opened room branched another tunnel that burrowed through the great wall of rock that shaped one side of the room, and I suddenly came to wonder just how many underground paths there were.

“Flair,” muttered the houndoom, and to my surprise, I realised I was the only one stationed by the large opening in the wall that overlooked the cavern. They had all taken the path to the left that continued on from the one we had just been passing along. In my distracted state, I hadn’t realised that there was another way to go other than through the opening and into the large room. He jerked his head in the direction Splash and Azure had walked.

I blinked a few times and bounded after them as Zaion turned and began to stalk away, catching up to him in no time. When I spoke, my words were hurried with excitement, which I hadn’t purposely done, but was perfectly content with it anyway. “Did you see that?” I paused to see his reaction, but he merely stared ahead with half-open eyes, clearly far from amused. I didn’t care though. “It was amazing! Like some giant...circular...hall in the centre of a cave!”

“It’s not the centre,” he murmured, and I cocked my head, somehow feeling washed with a form of mollified joy.

“Oh, well, it’s still awesome.” I glanced back over my shoulder, only witnessing the stream of light pouring in from the opening, which was difficult to see from the angle, much less the room itself. Minor disappointment seeped through my mind as I turned back, but I shrugged, angling to the right as the others did so whilst following the path.

It soon occurred to me that we were inside the wall that the left tunnel of that room had burrowed through, and concluded that we would be crossing over it, considering the different levels. I found myself wondering what other wondrous elements of caves were in existence; in all my travels with my trainer, I had only occasionally passed through caves, and the ones we made it through were short and daft. It was amazing to explore a proper one. However, happily I corrected myself, noting that this was hardly exploring. Exploring would mean stumbling across things more amazing than a simple room and on purpose; I began to picture all the other kinds of sights I would be able to see.

Surprisingly the number of pokémon we happened across was fairly limited. The whole trip consisted of a few families of drilbur, a sandshrew or two and a couple of trapinch. They were often on the move for meals or, as it was for the drilbur, popping up at random intervals and intersecting our paths by mistake. One of them shot up from the ground right in front of me at one stage, scaring the living daylights out of me. She repeated hasty apologies before disappearing; I got the impression that she was looking for someone, but I wasn’t to know. The details didn’t exactly matter anyway.

There had not been another cavern such as the one we had encountered earlier, much to my disappointment, but the amazements didn’t cease. On a few occasions, the cave became granite, and sometimes produced more tunnels in one spot than we could have split up to travel down. A wider room soon came into view, the walls extending outward and the ceiling a was fraction higher to allow for hanging stalactites to drop from above and have enough room to shatter. As we began to pass through, me at the back with the others in front, I was glad to deduce that there were no spears of rock looking to be unstable enough to fall, and I was reassured by my judgement alone that it was safe to pass through. Besides, the houndoom had clearly been through these parts before, and therefore was somewhat familiar with the oddities lurking in the depths of the underground tunnels. If he thought there was something wrong, I believe he would have spoken up.

Stalagmites grew from the floor, riddling the walking surface with their obstructing forms. The arrangement went on for a while, and even though I was somewhat assured that we were not going to get separated, I had that odd sick feeling that was hard to shake.

I made the decision to walk with the others, but my random position change might have drawn some kind of unnecessary attention; I didn’t want them to think I was afraid of the possibility that they might descend and pierce my body, or that I was frightened of enemies which may have crept up from behind. “Hey, uhh...what’s up ahead?” I asked aloud. I tried to look as casual as I could as I waited for their answer.

“Um,” Zaion began, tossing his head out in front before returning it to me. “Nothing of note.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, pretending to be totally clueless. He looked at me oddly and nodded slowly with a raised brow. I waited a moment longer after purposely averting my eyes, and upon looking back to him, his questioning face made me clarify. “Oh, it’s just that I can’t really see anything up ahead. You know, with three pokémon in my way.”

He furrowed his brow, and was quite perplexed. “Dusty. The room is wide,” he began, gesturing to the rest of the room at once. “You just have to look past us. And what view could three pokémon like us possibly obscure?”

“Hey,” I started, realising for a moment that he had a valid argument, “I couldn’t see, okay?” I reiterated, a little bewilderment in my tone as I shrugged,

“Right.” He whirled around and continued on.

I was a little agitated that he didn’t seem at all to care. “Well, I think I’ll just...”

Not waiting for a reply, I trotted past him, feeling his eyes on my back as I continued, and stopped at the front after passing Splash and ending up beside Azure. The glaceon was clearly not very impressed as she glared at me. I understood; it wasn’t like we were friends. She heaved a sigh and I turned around, eying the houndoom from up front. His head was turned, but he probably knew I was looking.

We walked around protruding spires of rock as we went, and a few times I got to stand on stumps, the top half no longer there. None of the stalactites fell either, and I assumed that they were fixed to the ceiling with security that was difficult to surpass. Nevertheless, it was difficult to come by and rely on reassurance alone; at least, travelling with a pokémon beside me, we would have more of a chance to defend ourselves if one of them cascaded from above and threatened to puncture our bodies.

We kept going, encountering a small pool at some point, which we stopped to drink from. It was appropriately guarded by rock watchman sprouting from the cavern floor, and for some reason I was compelled to imagine them with human dress and some type of spear. And then I imagined a moustache on one of them, a broader one, and was so distracted by the other amusing mental images which generated in my mind that I forgot about the fact that we were on the move, the others departing from the lake before me. When I realised, I flicked my head about and quickly caught up with them.

We made it out of the cavern and popped out into a tunnel branching left and right, each of us displaying a notable difference in our tenseness. I could relax now that there was no blatantly obvious danger, even if it had only been falling stalactites that were the threat. The coast was clear, and there was nothing that could visibly cause any sort of wariness.

The others began to move off to the right, and I skipped ahead to catch up with glaceon, thoughts of her telling me what had happened between her and the dark type testing my mind. When I walked beside her once again, she sighed irritably, making me strangely content.

“So you...know the houndoom,” I confirmed slowly. She remained silent, so I took it upon myself to continue. “Tell me...how long have you known him?”

A spark jumped between us, some sort of wave that shattered a wall she learnedly hoped I wouldn’t even gaze upon. I continued to look her in the eyes as my curiosity gained me the right to know what exactly was going on. If they didn’t want me to know, then they could keep their strange rivalry to themselves and stop involving me in it. Even though they hadn’t said a word to each other since their “greeting” when Azure and Splash ran into us, aside from the argument over the path we were going to take at one stage, they constantly shared looks of silent disdain they clearly didn’t want to voice.

However, I would be caught in the crossfire, and their mutual mistrust of one another made it difficult to make decisions based on fact and logic alone. If that was the way it had to be, then I believed I deserved to know why my journey was being obstructed by personal matters. The conversation they had exchanged upon meeting with each other in particular stuck with me; there were things mentioned that I wanted the answers to, but then again, I probably didn’t have the appropriate jurisdiction. I fought with myself to leave it alone, but regardless, I was left immensely curious.

She shifted uncomfortably and looked ahead, as if maintaining some sort of expected pride. “I don’t wish to answer.”

“You don’t have a choice,” I growled, and she was momentarily shocked, and then her condescension returned.

“I always have a choice. And I’m choosing not to tell you.” She swished her tail in a manner that reminded me of her insolence on the ship, and suddenly fragments of those events flashed in my mind.

“Sooner or later, I’m gonna find out. You guys can’t look at each other without some sort of trade of hate. I wanna know what is up with that; I do believe I have a right to know why the members of my travelling party are incapable of getting along for at least a few minutes. If it didn’t affect your ability to make rational decisions, I’d be more likely to leave it alone.”

“That’s asking too much,” she snapped, twitching her head toward me but not actually directing her eyes to mine. It was my turn to react with shock, and I proceeded to stare at her, almost bewildered. She was as stubborn as Zaion.

“So you think that I have no right to know? Is that it? You guys are allowed to go on and banter about this and that, and nearly get into a physical fight, and you tell me that it’s not my business?” I tried to catch her eyes while not letting Zaion come into awareness of our argument. “Yeah, I get privacy. But this is ridiculous. What happens when the fight involves me, and I’m forced to choose between trusting you or him? Can you still not explain it then? Is that what you call fair?”

“Oh, just shut up!” she hissed, finally meeting my eyes. She quickly looked back to Zaion, who was thankfully not paying us attention. His sights were set on a nearby duo of wary rattata. I assumed he was rather eager to catch some food, on account of how we hadn’t eaten all day so far. She looked to hold something back before giving in and whispering quietly, with almost a hint of shame, “I can’t tell you.”

I snorted. Couldn’t tell me? What kind of nonsense did she expect me to freely believe? “And why not? You two have some kind of falling out? What, were you...” I tried to search my mind for possible answers, chancing one that came to mind. The thought raised my spirits a little with amusement. I nearly chuckled with cheekiness before I proposed, “Were you once mates or something?”

“What?!” she responded, the incredulousness in her tone melting through the solid rock walls. Immediately she piped down and cleared her voice, redirecting her face as Zaion looked up, obviously curious about the sudden outburst. If she could have turned red and have it show through her blue fur, she would have. She looked to readjust herself and uttered to me in a hushed voice, “No! Of course not! Why would you even suggest that?” The disgust in her words made me smile with humorousness; the thought of being mates with that houndoom was on a level of repulsiveness suited to her reaction.

“Calm down,” I replied, an entertained scowl brushing my face. I spoke the sentence as if she had reacted far more dramatically than what she had needed to.

She threw me a glare I was suddenly sure could startle the fiercest of enemies. “Don’t be so absurd.”

“It was just a question,” I responded with a claim to innocence. At the same time, my voice betrayed layers of patronisation.

She rumbled and stared at the ground for a collection of seconds before looking up toward the path before us, the torch Splash still held emanating its light. I took a moment to admire the awe that entered my mind and embodied my limbs when I came into the presence of fire, embracing its glory. There were so many things I loved about fire, and when I blinked, only to open them on the glaceon beside me, I could see nothing but solemness. It was then that I recognised the weight of duty and sealed knowledge which dragged her down and stole her thoughts. Clearly the answer to the question I had put forth carried elements of a burden, or at least something that she felt she could not easily share. I could understand, but at the same time I was still highly curious to know, although I didn’t wish to press any further.

I felt my nose scrunch as my cheeks elevated, pushing up against my eyes in a face of reluctant compliance. I released it with an exhalation and grunted in surrender before uttering, “Fine... I won’t hound you for answers.”

The glaceon waited a moment before turning to me with some mild degree of disbelief. Her brow shaped her eyes with a frown of question, and I raised mine, giving a light nod. She looked mutedly thankful and relieved. I could tell that another minute of thinking she would have to spill the beans at my request would have pulled uncomfortably on vines she wanted suspended in secret, which I did not want to be responsible for. She did not ask questions, but merely gave me the tiniest of joyless smiles and returned her attention to the path.

I sighed in disappointment; it was true that I wanted to know, to learn of their shared past, but rightfully it wasn’t mine to know. In fact, she had no obligation to me whatsoever, and I had acted as if she owed me the world. ‘Well...I did save her life on one occasion,’ I thought in consideration, but, remembering back to the incident with Sed, Tooloo and that Mr. Mime, I reiterated to myself that she had come to my rescue. If I recalled correctly – for the incident, due to my state at the time, was a muddled mess – Splash had retaliated first. It occurred to me that I had forgotten to thank him deciding that sometime I would.

“So...” Looking to her again, I held her gaze for a moment to check she was paying attention. “We even?”

She didn’t smile, but she was complacent with the notion. She gave a brusque nod. On the contrary, I smiled.

***

“I told you it was a foolish idea to cross through here,” Tarla grumbled, perched upon a rock wall. She peered down into a break in the rock, a collection of three pokémon making their way through the channel no faster than snails. The path was wide enough for the krinar and kirlia to fit side-by-side, but Derino would certainly have had trouble beside another. He waddled gruffly between the two giant slabs of rock, clearly agitated as he had to sometimes turn so his belly and back were against the rock. The others did the same, although they had a considerably less difficult time doing so.

“Yeah, well, sometimes we need more convincing than we think we need!” shouted Etire, and Tarla only scoffed. It was like him to shift the blame.

“Mm, because of course, it’s my duty to look after you when you purposely disregard my warning.” She scowled. “How was it not clear to those glazed-over eyes of yours that this way was treacherous?”

“What other way was there? I saw none,” retorted the krinar. He dragged the kirlia out the way of a falling rock and watched it shatter.

Tarla sneered at the very thought; she was partly glad that they hadn’t agreed upon going the other way, but at the cost of time, she knew. “Underground.”

“I’m afraid I have trouble seeing in the gloom,” the kirlia replied delicately, her words drifting gently through the air to meet the flying and dragon type.

“We all do,” Tarla clarified, her voice an unpolished stone in comparison.

“Quit your arguing,” a voice of a forth pokémon grumbled from up ahead. “We can’t change the path we’re on. We already chose this, so use yer initiative and apply it to your surroundings now.”

Tarla and Etire sighed, understanding he was correct, but obviously unwilling to believe so. The kirlia waited until Etire moved before following.

They wandered on for another while, and by the looks of things, Tarla assumed it would take them all day to weave between the right cracks and navigate their way out of the rocky maze—however, with her to guide, they would be able to make it through in at least half the time, and decided that they could be out by a few hours past midday. She constantly glared up at the sun, checking to ensure that she wasn’t going to miscalculate. There was no place she couldn’t see from above; her ability of flight proved to be a very helpful one.

A few times, they had been unsure about following her lead, and she had to fly partway into the distance to double check it was the correct path, but even then they were hesitant. When it happened again, they had come to a fork. The left was fairly straight, whereas the right path veered off at a sharp diagonal angle, rather than following the path forward. The trio below insisted that the right path to follow was the left one, as it trailed toward the right direction. Derino was adamant that the path to the right would lead them astray, and the frustration Tarla felt for the normal type welled time and again. The krinar was not much better—both were stubborn.

“Rantana,” she called to the kirlia, fluttering down before the fork to address her personally. “If you’re having trouble believing me, use your psychic abilities to confirm the truth.”

The cream pokémon watched her with calm but innocent eyes. “I do not doubt your judgement.” Tarla kept staring, unsure exactly what her answer was. “I have no reason to confirm your words because I already believe them true.”

“Rentana,” Etire began, on her left as he snatched her attention. Tarla frowned. “Everybody makes mistakes. It’s normal that Tarla does, especially.”

“Shut your little mouth, you twerp,” hissed the altaria, her feathers looking to rise as she puffed herself up.

“What? Aren’t I allowed to express my opinion?” he wondered aloud, his disapproving glance agitating her as it usually tended to do.

“Not when I can see the end of the path meeting up with the rest of the paths that lead to the correct location.”

“And how long does the right path take if it bends and later rejoins with the “rest of the paths”?” he questioned, stance relaxed but easily mouldable.

The altaria seemed to contemplate her pride and reason as she moved her beak. She held the words back for as long as she could, well aware that her answer could define the final choice. “The turn takes up a lot of time that the left path doesn’t,” she quickly spilled, and he gave a smug smile and crossed his arms, as if he had won. “But the left path comes to a dead end. You can’t cross through there, so all that “saved time” gets you nowhere!”

“I can if I break through the wall,” he answered, far too sure of himself. He spoke casually, as if the words meant hardly anything. Tarla knew that he was going to have a positively difficult time doing something like that. Although she ached to see him try so she could jeer when he failed, she did not wish for these colony members to stray off track and waste time. It was also her pride at stake, which she was going to keep either way—except, of course, the krinar somehow managed to pierce the wall.

She sneered and looked to Rentana, who gave a tiny apologetic shrug. Derino crossed over behind Tarla to the path on the left. His ignorance inflated, as it often did, and he blundered blindly down the path. Tarla’s cheeks rose in disbelief; she was almost disgusted.

“Where are you going? I told you to go the other way!” she yelled, clearly impatient as he continued.

“My eyes do not deceive me,” he barked, angling his head up so his words would be most likely to rush to the place he targeted.

“Your eyes aren’t the ones surveying the ground from the skies!” The granbull merely raised a thick purple paw, dismissing her claims and anything else she tried to get across. “But that’s not the right path,” she exclaimed again, and turned furiously to the krinar as he snorted in amusement.

“Nah, you’re correct,” he began, starting off after Derino. “It’s not the right path.” Rentana followed slowly, looking tired. When the krinar was a few steps in, he turned around to finish his sentence, smirking. “It’s the left path.”

In a fury, the altaria fired a dragonbreath down the channel, momentarily heedless of the possibility that she could have instead hit the kirlia. When it reached not even her, Tarla bit down, the pressure of her beak marginally unsettling. She took off, beating the air with powerful strokes and rose in a considerably short time. Her anger swirled in her mind, and she wondered why in the world she came if her own party members, the pokémon obliged to trust and listen to her, couldn’t even believe her words. Etire was too cocky, Derino too stubborn and Rentana too flimsy. The combination was fatal when pitted against one who opposed their views.

Hissing in response to the aggravating situation, she powered forward, racing past her fellow colony pokémon in the blink of an eye to verify that the end of the path led to where she knew it did. A dead end. She wanted to once again analyse it for herself, and she knew that if she did, maybe she could convince them. After all, she was the one looking at it from above, and obviously knew more about the situation and the settings than the others; however, that hadn’t stopped them from overruling her judgement before. Nevertheless, it was worth a try, even if she didn’t believe that they would come to listen at all. ‘Aemara would have listened to me,’ she thought bitterly, resting her thoughts on her closest friend to seek some kind of comfort.

She began to miss her company after a number of days without seeing her, and she found herself wishing she could have come. The ghost and ice type could have levitated over the smaller rock ledges to rise higher and eventually cross across the top of the rock. She not only would have been a faster traveller, but also more efficient and wouldn’t waste time or effort derailing because she, in light of better judgement, was not foolish enough to imagine she had more knowledge than Tarla of the correct direction.

Her eyes fell upon the mountain ahead once more, unsure if its closeness was a good or a negative thing. It was both, she guessed, in their own ways. As well as all the hurt she felt from the banishment, she also treasured wonderful memories of a mountain very close by that helped provide her with refuge and a new people to start life over in the company of.

She cast an eye down on the rock below, watching it slowly trudge by as she approached the end of the path in which the party was soon to walk. Upon arrival, she fluttered her wings and descended, dropping to the edge of the rock wall to peer ahead. The trail came to an opening, sort of like a roofless room that was barred by rock walls. A small path branched off to the side of the area, but only continued for a few metres before it, too, was blocked off by rock. She found herself remembering that she was right, and that Etire and his cocky attitude were wrong. Him and Derino—the two males were useless when it came to listening to others, and in Etire’s case, especially to females. The only female he listened properly to was Rentana, but even then it was only because they were mated and he valued her opinion.

“His extensive self-assurance is his undoing,” she muttered to herself, sure that one day his attitude would get him in serious trouble. It was the same with Derino’s stubbornness. She suddenly felt grateful that Hunter, his son, was not without external influences. Any chance to take after his father was best tempered by others.

The party of three arrived within the following ten minutes, and as they came closer, the granbull’s face remained hardened and unchangeable, while the krinar was still overflowing with confidence, even when his eyes ran the height of the wall. He seemed unsure of himself for but a moment before returning to his confident state, and she raised a feathered brow, wondering if he had doubted himself at first.

She didn’t speak as they spilled into the area and ran their proud gazes along the wall. The two males wandered partway down the path to the side before meeting a dead end, despite being able to clearly see without taking the short cut into the rock, and pressed limbs against the walls to test their durability. Etire avoided Tarla’s supercilious gaze as he continued prodding the wall, moving out of the small path and testing the other sides.

“Will you just admit it already?” Tarla persisted, bemused by their useless attempts. “You didn’t listen to me and I was right. In effect, that means you were wrong.” The ralts evolution just glared at her, not intent on having his precious pride wounded, it seemed. His eyes were marginally concerned and growing with frustration.

“I told you that we can break through,” the krinar protested whist trying to convince himself, running a clawed hand down the surface of the rock. Tiny crumbs of stone broke off as he went, pattering on the earthen floor. He was doubting the possibility, but refused to give up before he started.

The altaria scoffed, half in annoyance and half in amusement, and ruffled her feathers before settling comfortably down, watching as he once again tested the rock with short slams of his fists and legs, and did something similar three more following times, as if contemplating. “Praising the wall won’t help you break through it,” she teased, and he stopped stroking it, obviously aware of his actions and how they were similar to stroking a young child’s head when they did well after completing a task.

“It’s called testing the surface I’m going to smash.”

“Testing?” she jeered again, a single eye on him as he looked up with a haughty frown. “You’ve been testing it for quite a few turns now, haven’t you? I think the rock has been using iron defence each time you attack with a stroke.”

“Look who the funny one is now,” he growled with the tiniest bit of accompanying mockery.

Tarla shrugged, quite enjoying what she got to do to him. “I have a talent for it.” The altaria stretched out a fluffy wing and began to preen a few of her cloudy feathers. “Faltering is the first sign of failure,” she told him half-attentively. “I think you should reschedule a time with the rock. Clearly you’re too busy procrastinating to actually make a move. I think the rock won the battle.”

Instead of exploding with anger, the krinar stood, absorbing her words as he inhaled, and exhaled with a small smile of acknowledged defeat. He shook his head to himself and focused back to the rock, heedless of the kirlia behind him.

Derino was marching back and forth, attempting to find some fault in the rock’s composition for a way to break through. Tarla understood that it wasn’t so much pride for the normal type, but simply an inability to acknowledge that he was wrong. He would keep looking for an opening simply because he was oblivious to the fact that the way he chose could have been incorrect.

A good ten minutes passed, and in that time the dragon type managed to keep her beak shut for the most part. She watched between preening as the two pokémon below her, as the kirlia also stood watching, searched for weak points in the rock. It was unlikely that they would encounter any, she knew, but they looked anyway.

“It seems you have a little issue,” the altaria called softly from the cliff, stopping her task to look at the krinar. Derino was hardly paying attention. Etire enquired with his eyes what she was talking about. “Someone told you to go one way, and you went another! Preposterous that she was right and you were wrong, isn’t it? It’s astounding that the great Etire was...wrong!” She cocked her head back and grinned greasily, more than happy to be in her position. The feeling of annoyance and wasting time hardly entered her mind as she revelled in the power she held. “And your plan doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined, clearly unsatisfied with defeat. “Can it, would you? You’ve milked this situation as if it was a bloated miltank. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I heard someone whining. Was that you?”

The psychic and fighting type drove a hand to his forehead and stared with drooped shoulders at the wall in front of him. For the first time, he admitted its density and began to doubt his ability to break through. He took a look at the altaria above and shook his head in defiance, reluctant to allow her the satisfaction of a complete victory. He knew he had calculated wrongly and made a foolish decision, but his regret was not strong enough to overcome his pride.

He focused his energy, breathing in as he tried to imagine a sudden outbreak of punches and kicks on his behalf. He tensed his claws, pressing them together as he tried to build up strength. He had no idea if his technique would work or how effective it would be, but he stood with a mind narrowed to focus on his task. He had to focus solely on the wall before him to leave a proper mark. He would have to block everything out and round up all his attention, then place it in front of where he stood so he was able to carry out the desired combination of movements. He again inhaled and exhaled, moving his shoulder joins around in rolls before opening his eyes.

It was then that he saw Tarla and her arrogant grin.

“No,” he hissed to himself, tearing away from her and shaking his head. ‘This is not working,’ he told himself agitatedly, hesitant to admit such a thing to himself. He needed to be focused in order for anything to work, and telling himself that he wasn’t was defining a path to failure.

Without bothering to try again, he rotated his body quickly so he was side-on, took a firm step and extended his arm quickly like a spring before it rammed into the wall. Small fragments broke off and crumbled to the ground, a small dent in the wall. At first, for a split second, he was happy. However, he realised again how tiny the mark was, especially in the vastness of the wall. And then again as he thought of its width. Etire sighed, nearly ready to give up before he even started.

“Well, go on,” Tarla teased, baiting him. “I’m waiting for the wall to suddenly collapse.” She emphasised her last word with a heavy implication that it was ridiculous as she stood up to shake, then proceeded to sit, her fluffy wings spilling over the edge.

He gave a tiny sneer, trying not to lose his cool, and turned to Derino. The lavender pokémon was searching back and forth, still unsure where to anticipate a break in the rock. The krinar found it marginally agitating, as he wasn’t doing anything to help, and shook his head brusquely. He tried not to focus on it as he turned his attention back to the wall and released a cry, not caring that he hadn’t bothered to charge up as he dealt a focus punch.

He was not expecting a sudden head to emerge from underneath him, feeling an instant pain as it rammed into him, accompanied by rocks and dirt. He stumbled away, collapsing with the temporary surprise. “What the—?!” he started to say, but his own shock cut him off. The kirlia noticed, darting to the spot where the krinar had been standing before the pokémon who had attacked disappeared down a tiny opening. Some of the dirt caved into the hole and covered part of it up.

Tarla watched from above, suddenly shocked, and quickly flew down from her perch, approaching Etire as Rentana did so as well. “Etire?” the kirlia asked with interest. The pokémon moaned and sat up, giving his head a quick shake as he got to his feet. He blinked a few time and looked around, expecting to see some kind of large opponent, even if what had struck him was little.

“Where is it?” he demanded, and Rentana looked at him with curiosity. Her tender expression clearly opposed the ruggedness of her mate, and she gave the shadow of a smile, which was accompanied by a layer of concern.

“It was a diglett,” she told him, and he furrowed his brow, wondering how something so tiny could have knocked him off his feet. “Are you injured?” she asked softly, and he gave an appreciative smile, shaking his head slowly.

“It’ll wear off,” he reassured, and moved past her toward the small hole. “I didn’t know the ground was even soft enough to dig through.” He kicked the side of the hole with his foot, expecting part to crumble off, but it hardly seemed to budge. He gave it a frown and snorted, uninterested.

Tarla, although just to herself, uttered a few chuckles. “A diglett.”

The three of them turned as they heard solid marching and saw Derino approaching the opening in the earth. He glared down at it with disapproval, even if he didn’t yet know what it was he was disapproving, and his heavy brow clouded his face with a pretty stiff frown. “What is going on here?” He could clearly see the hole, but apparently was not making the connection between it and the marginally injured state of his fellow colony member.

“There was an attack,” Rentana pointed out quite seriously, and the others looked to Derino.

He drew back, interlacing his arms and peering down before angling his torso forward to inspect the hole. In response, another diglett emerged from the hole with blinding speed and head-butted his chin, startling him backward and causing him to topple to the ground with the force. The mole-like pokémon ducked into the hole again and they heard distant dirt excavation until it faded.

The three stood completely still, unsure what to make of the situation. Tarla took to the sky, fluttering up to her cliff perch to peer down and inspect the area.

“Be...very...careful,” Etire warned, and although Derino shot up defiantly, the kirlia began to move slowly, her form graceful even when trying to avoid danger. She held her mate’s eyes for a time, unblinking as they waited for something to happen. It was true that it was only diglett they were facing, but the surprise of the attacks was the main thing.

After a good five minutes of no activity from below, the three on ground were somewhat sure that there were no other pokémon around who planned to attack. Etire was quite confident that he could break the wall now, with the intruders out the way, and began to focus once again. The others relaxed and Derino went back to what he was doing, the kirlia simply watching as she had before.

Etire aimed at the wall and smashed his fists into it again, creating a larger ditch this time. He smiled at the effect and regretted the effort the attack took; when he again thought of how thick Tarla said the wall was, he cringed. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his attacks up, and the reminder that such a big effort had only created a tiny mark was not at all comforting.

Focusing once more, he aimed to increase his form by tensing his muscles, feeling the strain in his arms and legs as he contracted them as tightly as he possibly could. He imagined muscle inflation, and his thoughts became somewhat of a reality as he released, feeling stronger and more solid. He had always liked bulk up for the very reason that it was easy to use and didn’t require much energy.

Drawing his attention to the wall before him, he resorted to using an attack that he thought he may not have had to use. It was not comforting to know that his fighting abilities outside of actual battling moves were not very strong; he was supposed to be a fighting type, and his training was not light. He was always striving to be better and hated when obstructions such as the wall of rock before him prevented his growth.

Exhaling to empty his lungs, he kept himself breathless for a number of seconds, feeling the weight of his belly as he plugged his airflow. Suddenly he released, opening his eyes and breathing swiftly in, and then launched himself forward, leaping for added momentum and drawing back his right arm before slinging it into the rock. The effect was grand; a large split appeared in the rock, spanning out in multiple directions and continued to increase. The section before him, at least as tall and wide as his body, crumbled and detached from the wall around it, tumbling sadly from a previous habitat to make way for whoever had removed it. Etire smiled proudly and watched as other sections of the wall gave way, if only a little bit. He cradled his right wrist in his left hand, waiting for the pulsing to stop before he recomposed himself and went for another bulk up attack.

Rentana, standing back from her mate and somewhere near the hole, watched with concern. She knew that the reason the diglett appeared was because he was destroying the wall, which she was less than comfortable with. As she watched, she noticed that her mate had looked to grow even stronger upon boosting his confidence and physical strength, and she curled her bottom and top lips into her mouth, holding them against themselves with her teeth. She began to flick to the opening in the ground, expecting another diglett to appear from the ground and attack again, and when a significant time had passed and none came, she didn’t know what to think. However, she did know that she had to warn the krinar about his destruction and the results that may come, and she decided now was the perfect time.

She darted forward in a leaping fashion. “Etire,” she began, catching his attention while he had his eyes closed.

He took a moment to reply with, “Yes, my sweet?”

She ignored his use of a pet name. “I think the diglett appeared because their wall was being threatened.”

The krinar opened his eyes and looked at her, putting aside any previous focus he had gathered. “Nonsense. They were probably just playing around.” He rolled a shoulder in its joint and cracked his neck to one side. “What would they want with an ol’ wall, anyway?” he asked sceptically, gesturing to its massive expanse as he shrugged.

“It’s part of their territory,” she reminded him, and he seemed to consider her statement for a mere moment before dismissing it with a noise and a bat of his hand.

“Ehh, they won’t miss it.” He looked back to it, a small chuckle starting up in his chest. “Heh, what, so they live inside the wall or something?” Rentana gave an unimpressed cringe as her mate neared the wall and harnessed his cockiness, tapping his clawed hand against the rock. “Hey! Anybody home?” When nothing happened, he gave a dirty grin and his mate inclined her neck a little, preserving dignity as she watched his childishness. He shrugged off her reaction and turned back to the wall, knocking again. “I can’t hea—”

Part of the rock inexplicably extended forward and collided with the krinar’s jaw. The psychic and fighting pokémon was thrust backward, stumbling over his feet and colliding with the ground in no time. Rentana watched, shocked, as did Tarla. The latter took longer to realise what was happening after she pulled her head from her wing while preening.

“What just happened?!” demanded the altaria with minor urgency, inspecting the scene briefly before part of the wall dislodged and crashed to the ground in a solid thump. The chunk that had supposedly “punched” the krinar was differently coloured to the rest of the rock; in contrast to an ecru, russet and copper, it was a darker shade of grey. The sight of a moving rock surprised her to the point of confusion before she realised that it was a pokémon—a geodude.

Giving them no time to think, the wall from Derino’s side suddenly caved after muffled roars, and he turned with a surprised grunt to find rock spraying in multiple directions, bouncing off the channel walls and some striking his body. Rentana calculated their range and twirled out the way of each one that managed to reach her, and in their wake was a number of thundering pokémon the colour of the geodude all trampling their way down the path with recklessness that clearly conveyed their rage.

Tarla’s eyes widened instantly and she whipped her head to Etire, her eyes sharp as he watched on.

“What have you done?!”