The Lone Survivor

From Create Your Own Story

You stoop down and lock eyes with the man. He looks back at you, fear obvious in his eyes.

You growl; he flinches and lets out a tight yelp.

As amusing as this is, you find yourself wishing that he could understand you; interrogations go so much better that way. Instead, you settle on clasping his shirt with your teeth and pulling. Maybe you can find out something handy by anything he has on him.

“Hey! Wait a… Stop that!” You ignore the man’s cries until something falls out from your rummaging.

He grabs at it, but you step on his hand.

Your attention drawn by the fallen item, the man scrambles to his feet and runs into the forest. Some of the Pokemon (those who’d had a brief imprisonment in the nets before their comrades set them free) dash off behind him.

He won’t be getting far.

You inspect the object; it’s small, round and metallic. It has a dark blue coloring. You stare at it for a long time, knowing what it is, but the answer keeps slipping away.

You sigh and address the Pokemon gathered around you.

“I don’t suppose any of you know what this is?” They gather closer to inspect the trinket, and discuss amongst themselves. It’s shortly discovered that none of them know anything.

You start wondering if it’s possible to contact the Unown, when a Furret steps up, followed by several others.

“A friend of mine might know.” She says.

“Oh?”

She nods. You wait a moment for the Pokemon to elaborate, but she only looks nervously at you.

“And where might I find this friend?”

“Oh! Right; sorry.” She continues, abashedly. “He tends to roost near Violet City.”

“Roost?”

“Yes. He’s a Skarmory.”

“A Skarmory…”

“Yes.”

You blink. “How on earth did you manage to make friends with a Skarmory?”

“Oh. A cousin thrice removed once helped the Skarmory’s mother in gathering brambles and the like for her nest when she sprained a wing.”

You decide to move on instead of asking how a metal wing could be sprained.

“What makes you think he’ll know?”

“He knows practically everything.” The flanking Furrets nod in agreement. You decide to leave it at that.

“Alright then.”

You pick up the bauble and, ignoring the bland metallic taste, head out northwards.

By the time you get to the forests surrounding Violet City, the sun is on the horizon and you note that it’s growing dark.

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