**Note that any unusual grammar choices in speech are purposeful and used as emphasis. This includes lack of commas and spacing. This applies to future chapters as well, unless I get too much backlash. Feel free to let me know of any other grammar and spelling mistakes in reviews if you wish.**
Once again, I awoke to the sound of wind and the rustle of grass. This time though, a bolt of panic shot through me as memories of the short chase flooded my mind. I sat up suddenly, muscles tensing as my fight or flight response came into play. My limbs tangled like shoelaces, and I ended up rolling through the grass with a face full of dirt for the third time today. I pulled in ragged breaths, my mind finally registering my surroundings. I was surrounded by grass, taller than the grass from before. Much taller. It was a strong dark green, and tapered off to sharp points high above my head. Looking around, I realised I had no idea where I was or where I had come from. Grass blocked my view from every direction. Twittering, chirping and even a strange chittering filled the air, mixing with the quiet whisper of rustling grass.
Come to think of it, that strange chittering sounded awfully close. The grass to my left began to rustle menacingly. I got to my feet, ready to face the new threat. I felt goosebumps cover my body as my fur stood on end. A sharp pain ran up my spine, and I turned to find a tail that I hadn't noticed beforehand swinging menacingly. A large red welt sat nestled in a clump of black fur. I winced at the sight, remembering the sharp jab I had received from the beedrill in my dash to safety.
I knew they were territorial, but jeez, that was nothing short of terrifying. Lost in my thoughts, musing over the large sting, I forgot about the presence of the rustling grass. I was reminded when a sudden movement caught my eye. Startled, I whipped back around to face it, moving automatically into a fighting stance. A strange buzz began to fill the air. But what I faced was not a beedrill. Instead, I was face to face with what I swear to this day was the fluffiest bidoof I had ever seen. His thick brown pelt was almost twice the length of the standard bidoof, forming thick curly ringlets around his face and on his underbelly, similar to flaafy wool. His eyes, little black buttons, stared suspiciously out from gaps in the thick fur and his teeth were all that was left visible.
The buzzing continued to fill the air, and my paranoia grew. I turned, my eyes and ears searching, temporarily forgetting the creature in front of me. I wasn't scared of some bidoof, fluffy or otherwise.
What is it? What's the sound? Where is it coming from? It filled my ears, and came from every direction. I wasn't until I took a step and a quite zap filled the air that I realised the reality.
I was the one buzzing. I didn't know whether to laugh or stare. Electricity danced in small waves along my fur on my legs, emitting from the golden rings encircling them. I now knew why my body looked familiar, and the name came to my mind.
"Shinx," I said aloud. I was a Shinx. How could I forget that? My attention turned back to the bidoof, who had taken a seat in front of me. He sat like child playing in the mud, back legs splayed and front legs positioned in between. Funnily enough, exactly like his evolution was often pictured. His (I was assuming here) black eyes stared unblinkingly at me, and I began to feel uneasy at the near silent encounter.
Then, he spoke. "Friend?" he said. He spoke in a series of short chitters, but I understood the meaning anyway. Taken aback at the short and abrupt statement, I answered in kind.
"Friend." I confirmed. Surprisingly, unlike the name which I had spoken aloud mere moments ago, this word came out in a short purr. "Friend," I said again. "Shinx. Friend. Shinx." I alternated between the two amused by difference in pronunciation.
"Bidoof," said the bidoof. He stared at me. "Bidoof, Shinx, friend?" There was a unmistakable question at the end of the statement. He shifted while waiting for an answer, and I realised he was nervous.
He was scared of me I realised. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to attack him. Realising that my light show might still be going, I couldn't really blame him.
"Definitely friends." I told him. "Were you the one who dragged me into this tall grass, and saved me from that beedrill?" I asked. I hadn't made it to the grass, collapsing just on its edge, I knew. The biddof stared at me like I had two heads.
"Save?" he mused. He had a lightbulb moment. "Yes!" he said. "Save friend! Weak pokemon safe from bad pokemon in grass!" he assured me.
"Safe from bad pokemon?" I muttered. I followed his gaze into a patch of grass where I assumed the forest lay beyond. I turned back to him. "So its safe here?" I asked.
"Grass safe from bad pokemon," he repeated. "No die. Forest safe from humans. Forest, forest good." He stared back in the same direction forlornly. "Forest safe…" he repeated distantly. He turned to me. "Want to live in forest one day. Not strong enough yet." He nodded to himself. "ot strong enough, not strong enough." He stared me in the eye sadly. "…Never strong enough."
"Wait, hold up a moment," I argued. "Is the forest safe or not? If the forest is full of bad pokemon where you can die, why do you want to go so bad?" I frowned at the thought of fighting off countless beedrill.
"I mean there's berries and stuff but it can't be that good. And what do you mean by 'safe from humans?' Do you mean trainers? They can't be that bad." I threw questions at him, my curiosity piqued. He took his time, appearing to struggle with my questions. Do I speak with an accent? I wondered.
"Trainers…" he mumbled. He started shaking his head. "Trainers bad, very bad. Trainers battle. Battlebattlebattle everything. All the time. No berries, no healing. Hurts. Very bad." He continued to shake his head vigorously.
"Battle…everything?" I repeated. "But battling makes you strong, right? You can get strong enough to get into the forest!"
"Nononono," the bidoof muttered. "Pokemon, the pokemon strong. Sometimes weak, but mostly stronger. Don't get stronger unless win. Can't win, can never win." The bidoof looked defeated, his eyes never leaving my face as he relayed his final sentence.
Silence fell, the air heavy with the fate of the pokemon doomed to wander the tall grass. Eventually, the mystery bidoof began to speak again.
"Sometimes…Sometimes pokemon escape. Caught by trainer," he began. "Sometimes they come back, come back strong. Often, no come back." He shrugged.
I struggled to come up with an encouraging comment. "You could be caught…and…and…have a nice home with a kid or something?" I suggested. I had almost fallen into the pattern of the stop start style statement answers that the bidoof used. The corners of what I assumed were his mouth twitched upwards and his eyes shone. He looked happy, and I felt a feeling of satisfaction grow in my chest.
"A home…" he muttered. He started to nod. "I'd like a home…"
"Well, maybe we can get you one." I offered. "You did help me after all, so I could try and help you, if you wanted. We just have to find the right human. No big shot or overly enthusiastic fighters, that's just what we have to avoid." I took a step forward. I didn't even know this pokemon, but I was already trying to help him. This was going to be a long and difficult journey ahead of me. But, if he accepted, I could have a guide and buddy to help me and keep me safe in the long grass. Considering I couldn't tell which way was up half the time, I considered a guide an invaluable resource.
The bidoof sat there, head down for a solid minute as he contemplated my offer. Finally, he raised his head. His fluffy fur rustled majestically in the breeze and determination shone in his eyes.
"Please help me find home." He said.
"Alright." I smiled.