Chapter Twenty-eight: Aim and Fire

Each pokémon hammering against the top of the shield was weakening Rentana and presenting her with excess strain. Her muscles were going to give out at any moment; she knew she couldn't protect her friends for much longer.

"Ren, it's fine..." Tarla explained calmly. "Release the shield. You need to save your strength for offence."

The kirlia was unsure, but Etire faced her, catching her gaze. "She's right. We have help now! You can let it go."

After a moment longer of consideration, the psychic type gave a nod and, with the release of a bottled breath, she dropped her arms. She crumpled with relief, beginning to pant with the effort as the lessened aching continued. Etire placed a hand on her back and she looked to him with a tiny appreciative smile.

The group of four dispersed as another rhyhorn dropped from above, a loud crunching crash probably splitting the earth from behind. Rentana jumped with surprise and the others focused themselves, Derino pressing a curled paw into his open one in preparation for a brick break. As he did that, Tarla tried her wing, as if by some miracle it had healed in an unrealistically short period of time. She knew that she could have flown if she tried, but the pain would have rendered her unable to focus or direct herself properly, and decided it was best to leave it alone until she could return to Aemara.

The krinar was barely of any use, his injuries too recent to do anything, and the kirlia's energy was, as she had realised, low and of an inefficient to be able to apply it to any sort of focus on battling. The thought scared her, especially as she knew that it meant she was unable to protect her mate, who, as she glanced to him and looked him over worriedly, appeared weak and barely even able to stand.

"Watch out!" called Tarla, and the kirlia snatched Etire out the way of a rock fired their way. The altaria hopped forward two steps and fired a dragonbreath, the odd indigo and yellow flames crackling as they worked with one another and swept over the rhyhorn. His cringe indicated that his body felt some kind of response to the attack, which was better than nothing, but obviously he was far from finished. "Go on," persuaded the dragon and flying type, her neck twisting to help her see her comrades. "Escape through one of the side passages. Don't worry about me."

Etire and Rentana looked to one another, the latter supporting the former as he limped on a single leg. "We can't leave you," the krinar scoffed with obviousness in his tone.

"You have to," hissed the opposing pokémon, but he shook his head.

"You protected us when we couldn't protect ourselves, and we need to—"

Unleashing a screech and propelling herself to the side with her good wing, Tarla narrowly avoided the rhyhorn, who charged their way. His anger replaced any rationality as he flashed an angry glare to the three, rounding without stopping and charging again toward Tarla. "There's no—point!" she yelled as she once again tried to move from range. She chanced a futile stroke of her wing, but the produced air did nothing to influence the ground and rock type to do anything but blink a moment later. He roared, the ground beneath his feet trembling at his very presence. "You can't do anything!" she continued to protest. "And I saved you because that's what—"

A violent slam jerked the altaria forward, her neck whipping back as she felt something painful occur in the bones. The force sent her forward, the pokémon who had charged her bucking her off its head plate as the first rhyhorn looked on, a little shocked by the appearance of a second of his species to attack his prey. However, they didn't argue or even exchange mutual or one-sided acknowledgement for one another as they split up and targeted the ralts evolutions.

"Rentana," Etire began urgently, trying to stand on his own, "we have trouble!"

The kirlia's shaking limbs did not provide suitable mental support, the doubt she had for herself threatening to override any sort of hope she had for overcoming the prominent injuries and aches. She contemplated dropping Etire to focus on her attack, but decided against it, even though she could feel him resisting. Immediately she thought he was growing weaker and was not choosing to release her, and she frowned defiantly.

"No, let me go... You need to focus! You can't while I'm..." The krinar stopped as he felt his arm tingle with an unfamiliar sensation. He could feel it rippling through his skin as he contemplated what his mate was dong.

The kirlia focused a moment longer, mustering the strength she needed, and a second before the two rhyhorn came upon them, she vanished, reappearing on the side of the room and before one of the openings that veered away. She collapsed on the ground, the krinar doing the same as he lost his physical support. She whispered apologies and looked up, spotting the rhyhorn halfway across the other side of the room.

"Well, you lost 'em," he commented, and she nodded, regaining her breath and getting back to her toes. Normally she would not have felt such strain when she teleported, but taking another as well as herself while she was weak was what did it.

From a distance, on the opposite side of the cave, Rentana spotted a small battle happening between two geodude and a rhyhorn and the flareon and houndoom she had seen enter. She thought for a moment, trying to recall when she'd seen either of them. As her eyes fell upon the newly arriving glaceon and quagsire, she felt a tiny pang of relief, but her faith was not restored as she noticed something: they were losing.

Scanning the rest of the room, she noticed, in the immense light pouring in from a ways above, the rock and ground types had the upper hand. Their rock projectiles shattered against anyone they touched, dealing damage while the spray barely affected their teammates. Their physical attacks overcoming the pokémon with a type advantage with sheer numbers and encumbering strength. Splash was the hardiest of them all and proved to be the most difficult to overcome, she realised, as she watched him wrap his massive paws around a geodude's arms and run a jet of water over his face, spraying the others while he was at it, and hauled the pokémon to the side. Occasionally another would notice the airborne pokémon and a few times, they would work together, such as when the glaceon would project a sheet of snow which often solidified moments after emerging from her body, only for another rock type to shatter it to free their comrade. There were only three geodude and two rhyhorn out of their entire group that had lost their consciousness, and the rest were still perfectly able to battle.

"Rentana!" Etire called a little desperately, shuffling to his feet. She looked in the direction he was facing, noticing a charging dual type, and a few diglett also appeared around them. She gritted her teeth, swallowing as she tried to pinpoint an attack that didn't sap too much of her energy but was effectively damaging. The only thing that came to mind was shadow ball, and, summoning the negative energy required, she fired a small one at a diglett, who simple withdrew into the earth and avoided the attack completely. It didn't give the kirlia much hope, and as she glanced around at her other opponents, she came to the conclusion that she would have to think of something else. Either that, or she and her mate were in major trouble.

ooo

It had been right that the pesky houndoom jumped to my rescue at the last moment. Typical it took him so long though; it was as if he was testing my patience, or even my worth, to begin with. It was rather disgusting, but I threw the thought away as we were attacked again. It was getting ridiculous. I hadn't had much of an opportunity to focus on any other group, but I could tell that the enemy was winning. They didn't seem discouraged if one of us bowled over five at once, as they simply got back up, as if the undead who were incapable of hitting the rocky floor for good.

Rocks had shattered on my skin and I had been horn attacked twice or three times. The bruises were going to develop soon after, I knew, and hoped that I wasn't bleeding anywhere I didn't notice. My bullet wounds were beginning to hurt again, even if they had long closed up, and the thought made my annoyance rather plentiful.

"Zaion, we have to do something," I told him with some urgency, a geodude aiming for my legs as he drew an arm back. "Oh, no you don't!" I hissed, launching a shadow ball at his face. He was blown back and momentarily dazed before realising that he was fine, and threatened to continue without a hitch. The sight made me blow smoke through my nose. "We're losing. We have to pull out!"

"Good of you to understand the predicament," he answered, and called something to Azure, who was busy flipping and leaping to the side while accompanying the altaria. She then flicked her head to the two ralts evolutions on the other side of the cavern and fled, and I wondered for a brief moment if Tarla would be okay on her own, but was soon accompanied by the granbull, which quelled my concern.

Suddenly my mind retreated to Zhol, and I wished greatly that she was with me. As much as I didn't want her injured any further, it would have been handy to have that moral support and a good fighter on our side.

A cry drew me to the quagsire, who was rammed into by a rhyhorn and trapped against a wall. I had briefly seen his handiwork in battle and concluded that he was a battler certainly worthy of a rescue. He had put countless bundles of effort into protecting others and slowly causing a decline in the enemy's numbers. I looked quickly to Zaion and quickly told him that I planned to help. The houndoom gave me a wary glance and continued to fend off another pokémon while I swallowed and spotted a rhyhorn close by who decided it was a smart idea to charge. I encouraged myself to smile with confidence as he approached, and drew a breath, feeling my legs tingle with expectation as I leaped onto his face above his horn. In response he bucked his head, throwing me over his body. Conveniently that was what I wanted, but I understood that a rhyhorn with a pokémon on his face was not very comforting. However, it was not as if I cared what was comfortable for my opponents. It was my aim to make them uncomfortable.

I landed with a thump and regained myself quickly, bounding toward the rhyhorn who held the quagsire against the wall. I was so focused on devising an offensive move to rid the ground and water type of the rhyhorn pressing against his body with unwanted pressure to heed the houndoom's barks of urgency. In fact, I dismissed them in an effort to concentrate. I should have listened.

A disturbingly familiar pain exploded in my left side and scaled the surrounding flesh before everything blurred and I slammed into the wall to my right. More pain cut across my entire right side as it collided, the rock wall's jagged edges jabbing my skin as I felt my body compress and the muscles tighten responsively. I shrieked, the feeling stripping me of any other thought or means to concentrate as the horn punctured my flesh, the force of the rhyhorn's body increasingly unbearable. The feeling was absolutely horrendous; my brain thunderously pulsed with the immensity of the pain, my body unable to move, to writhe or to repel the force. My bones began to feel as if they were crunching, my body shuddering with a frightening consistency as the horn dug into my flesh, feeling as if it ripped through the layer of meat and began to scrape my organs. My screams punctured the air with repetitive consistency, the shrillness startling even me as they continued, the pain bursting through me.

My thoughts went to death as I struggled against the horrific measure of pain searing through every inch of my body, my breath erupting from my mouth as screams of pure agony, the feeling failing to cease even a shred. My screams of utter anguish ripped through the air, combined blubbering and gushes of tears in accompaniment.

"HELP!" I managed to gurgle, the increasing pressure causing me to falter shortly after as I felt a horrid sensation in the pit of my throat. With a jerk from my stomach, a bomb of blood exploded from my mouth and splattered the ground before I coughed and spluttered, continuing to wail as I realised just what I had done. The sheer horror of the prospect was enough to contort my face even further, and in response, a stream of flames billowed from my maw and poured onto whatever it could find, which happened to be Splash and the rhyhorn still pressing into him. The flames were hotter than I intended and my lips wrenched back as I realised the heat was nearly burning my throat.

I felt the removal of the rhyhorn's horn from my side all at once, my body shaking as I slipped down the wall and slopped onto the ground, moaning in agony. I felt horrifyingly sick, battered and bruised, tears flowing from my eyes as I struggled to breathe, each intake haggard and hesitant, my wound beating with renewed pain each time. My limbs were flat and floppy, my head lazily against the ground, and my mane poked me in several places.

I spluttered again and what remained of the blood residue in my mouth rolled out and dribbled down my face, my eyes half open as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I could feel the warm liquid pooling under my cheek, colouring my facial fur maroon.

Slowly the world span and I resisted, attempting to blink out the problem but failing to abolish it. The feeling overcame me, smothering my consciousness as I drifted away from the cave, away from the pokémon around me, and away from even myself.

ooo

Derino felt his shoulder pulse as he and the houndoom ravaged the rhyhorn on the cavern floor, avoiding any charging, stomping or thrown rocks aimed in their direction. The houndoom roared with great ferocity and fought with similar energy, his strong lungs projecting a stream of fire to engulf the pokémon and, if nothing else, distort its surroundings with smoke and coloured, wavering filters. He snarled and snapped, building negative thoughts and unleashing a wave of dark power and combined, the purple normal type and the dual type hound pokémon managed to defeat their foe.

"And stay down!" Zaion shouted with a triumphant snort.

The two looked to each other and then to the fallen pokémon. Looking at its horn, the granbull growled before wiping blood off his forearm. The flareon's blood.

Zaion bolted away from the fallen rock and ground type, appearing beside the flareon in a heartbeat. He quickly sunk and was quick to inspect the wound, which looked to be between her ribs and her hip on her left side. It wept blood at a steady rate, and he recoiled, sure that the wound would only get worse if he didn't find a way to stop the bleeding. The sight of the blood spatter near her face, which she had thrown up, was also confronting, and he suddenly contemplated how bad the wound really was. The fact that she had been rendered unconscious came to him as no surprise; the shock was enough to do that, as well as the accompanying exhaustion. He only hoped that the attack didn't puncture any vital organs.

The thought of a horn in one's side was a horrendous one, and he could only imagine what it was like to experience. In a rage, he whirled around and called, "Is this what you wanted?" A few pokémon turned their attention to him for a moment, but that didn't stop them from fighting. "Listen to me!" he roared, launching a crackling fireball at the ceiling. The earth bordering the hole in the ceiling began to crumble and some bits fell down below, striking a geodude and avoiding Azure by a mere hair. She glared at him, but he only glared back with twice the intensity. "Look what you foolish pokémon have DONE to this flareon! Someone who entered this fight to try and help pokémon she doesn't even know."

Some of the wild pokémon focused on his words, but some scoffed in response, remorse clearly not crossing their minds. "Anyone who fights alongside the ones that desecrated our lands is an enemy! You disrespect the land and you disrespect its inhabitants!"

The houndoom sneered. "Don't you think this is taking it a bit far?"

"Never!" grumbled a gravelly geodude. "If we hadn't stopped that fool," he began, thrusting an accusing hand at the krinar on the opposite side of the cave to the houndoom, "he would have destroyed our wall. OUR home. Who knows what else he could have destroyed?"

"If you just asked, I would have stopped!" protested the krinar, who was only looked upon with disdain.

"You see?" the houndoom barked, capturing all attention again. He briefly observed his teammates backing away from the group of rock types, holding their ground a few paces back. "The matter could have been resolved through simple words. Then they could have moved on and everyone would have peace."

"We don't make peace with traitors!" spat a furious rhyhorn, who, when given a moment to step out and show herself, was clearly identified as Thunderquake, the leader. She commanded her teammates' attention and respect as she stood proudly.

"Traitor?" Etire questioned, surprise taking his entire expression. "I don't bear association with your herd."

The rock and ground type kept her gaze upon Zaion. "No traitor is welcome. We kill traitors so they don't return to betray and cause further harm."

Zaion's face was as muddled with confusion and shock as Etire's, and he blinked with a frown. "Traitors? What do you mean by that?"

"Any foolish youngling knows what a traitor is!" boomed the rhyhorn. "Tell me, boy. What is your name so that I may shout chants of satirical nature about the fool who didn't even know what he was?"

"How are these pokémon traitors?" he demanded. "Or me for that matter?"

She looked to him with a hardened expression of contempt. She then tossed her gaze about and rested her eyes upon a few colony pokémon, snorting with ridicule. "No pokémon of this assortment is part of a single clan." Zaion watched carefully, somewhat knowing of what she was going to direct the accusation to. "And any clan knows not to destroy lands that belong to other pokémon, for they themselves own land they wish to protect!"

"It was a simple mistake," Etire intervened, speaking up so his voice reached her hidden ears.

"Mistake or not, we cannot overlook the suspicion we have no choice but to employ. And therefore, you are our enemies!" The rock and ground types roared in reply, the rhyhorn scraping their solid legs along the ground with snorts and rumbles. The geodude flexed their muscles and a few punched the ground.

"No, no, stop!" the houndoom called again, and although reluctant, the rhyhorn lay enraged eyes upon him.

"Do not try to stop us, fool!"

"Maybe you are the fool," a voice accused, and the rhyhorn, nearly livid at the suggestion, tossed her head to her right to spot an altaria who looked relatively worn. The other rock and ground types drilled their outraged glares into the flying type but she stood her ground, a wing hanging somewhat limply at her side. "You brand us traitors, attack us needlessly and then disregard our pleas for innocence."

"You made no—"

"And worst of all," the altaria continued, her eyes narrow and her tone conveying implications of something close to hurt, "you disrespect our colony." Further explanation of the statement was clearly desired as everyone remained silent. "The Usster Colony was founded by Retsu, a most honourable a flygon who had at heart the interests of stray pokémon with nowhere to go. The very purpose of our colony is its multiculturalism—the unique acceptance of any pokémon, regardless of species, gender, type or past conflictions who have no place in the world, or who may have been rejected from their previous homes and families." She scanned the room, noticing as Azure shifted a little uncomfortably.

Nobody spoke for a few seconds and all seemed dead silent. Zaion glanced with minor desperation to the flareon beside him and Tarla noticed, eager to resolve the issue and get her medical aid.

For around five seconds, the lead rhyhorn merely looked on, a judgemental mind making its decision. "While I cannot understand your acceptance of any pokémon who simply asks your favour, I accept it." For a moment Tarla was surprised but relieved, but the rock type was not finished. "But I cannot stand idly by while a hypocrite tries to tell us how disrespectful we are when your disrespect started this entire battle! Traitors!"

"I think you have the wrong idea of what a traitor is," Zaion proposed with etched scepticism, watching as the pokémon a few metres from him flared up with anger. "How are we traitors for destroying your territory? Disrespectful, yes," he started, throwing a small glare to Etire, "but not traitors."

"You are not just traitors to us. But the whole of your kind," the rhyhorn hissed.

"To...houndoom?" Zaion questioned in confusion, turning his head on an exaggerated angle.

"No," she grunted, "to every pokémon who ever lived."

With a face of shock and then confusion, followed by the addition of near-amusement, the houndoom looked to Tarla, who relayed his expression. The drama of the situation was blown far out of proportion. "Look. I think we better just negotiate some kind of—"

"I already told you," boomed the rhyhorn, rearing for exaggerated effect, "we do not make peace with traitors. That includes you Rokont scum!"

"Rokont?!" blurted Derino with his gruff edge, silencing the entire room. His bark was so abrupt and direct that nobody's eyes rested anywhere but to him. Some of the smaller geodude and a few diglett, who had emerged from the ground to listen in, cowered uncomfortably under his infuriated scowl. He puffed his chest out and, too far from a wall to be able to hit one, dropped to the ground and thrust a fist directly beneath where he stood, the floor giving a small shudder. He rose slowly with broad shoulders raised around his neck, and he glowered at the rhyhorn with such wrathful pupils that even she looked on with a tiny instigation of shock. "Those weak, cowardly, frail-minded desecrators are in no way associated with my brothers and sisters," he snarled with a whisper of disgust, his lips curling back, framing long, sharp teeth. "How DARE you correlate the likes of those screwed up, insidious bastards with my pack mates." He plodded steadily and purposefully toward the rhyhorn, who narrowed her eyes and coloured her lips with corresponding scorn as he approached, stopping inches before her face. "I would sooner skin my own body and hang myself by my jaw than willingly cooperate with the Rokont Organisation." His breath was foul; the rhyhorn merely glared back at him.

Silence flooded the room. Not a single strand of hair swayed; not the smallest pebble shifted. The breeze didn't dare enter the cavern, no muscle chancing a twitch. Breaths entered and exited bodies with unfamiliar gradualness; no eyelid fell over any pupil.

Ears ticked to the sound of spluttering, and a single body moved, seizing on the ground in small shivers.

"She's in danger," Tarla snapped, breaking the silence almost nobody would have dared to shatter otherwise. The lead rhyhorn, who she remembered was called Thunderquake, turned to her with reluctance, quickly eying the granbull before her while doing so. "She was attacked by one of your rhyhorn. Now look what's happened." Everybody turned back, and the flareon began to stir as she groaned with pain, failing to regain consciousness. "She needs desperate help or she'll bleed out."

"What do I do?" the houndoom questioned a little anxiously, capturing the lead rhyhorn's attention.

"We do not inflict wounds with intention to heal them afterwards. I do not know how to tend to your friend's wound."

The granbull took another step, causing her eyes to flick back to him. "Your subordinates better have some way to deal with this," he growled, glare firmly set. "You made the mistake. You will help us fix it."

"The only mistake made was by your paw. It was your appearance in our territory that began this feud, and then your reckless destruction which cost us damage to our lands and you..." She moved her head to the limp flareon soaking in her own blood and narrowed her eyes. "I think you can guess."

The granbull roared, and Zaion was sure he was going to strike the rock type in front of him, but the blow never came, and the normal type loomed over her, working his intimidation. "You must atone for what that creature caused." He threw an arm in a fallen rhyhorn's direction, gesturing specifically to his bloodied horn.

"We must atone nothing!" she boomed, rearing on her back legs and coming down again with an enormous thud. "Your claims of indignation towards the Rokont Organisation were convincing; however, we still cannot be sure of your intentions. What could the... Usster Colony possibly want with our land?"

"Azure," Tarla whispered hurriedly, and the glaceon turned. "Tend to the wound. Maybe your ice can help."

The ice type gave a brief nod and warily glanced about, making her way slowly between the enemy pokémon as they sneered at the prospect of their target slipping from their grasp. On her way past Splash, she uttered, "Come." The two stopped by Dusty and the flareon groaned another time, her eyes still closed. Azure guessed she wasn't yet conscious but was probably trying to wake, and commanded Splash to wash the wound out.

Ever so carefully, he sprayed water into the wound, and the surrounding skin tensed, her leg twitching with discomfort. The water twisted and turned, becoming tinted with a scarlet hue. Azure moved her head to the other side, against the wall, and propped the flareon's back half up, allowing the water to trickle down her fur and out of the opening. She set her back down and came around next to Splash.

"We were on our way to the Rokont base," Etire interjected, and the surrounding pokémon renewed the strength of their scornful glares. He gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. He felt like slapping himself in the face after realising that he had only made things worse.

"You see?!" Thunderquake exclaimed, and Tarla hopped up beside Derino, taking a chance and nearing the opposition. The geodude and rhyhorn nearby closed in, ensuring that they didn't let anybody take advantage of their leader.

"Who, in their right mind, would admit to returning to their own base if they wished to keep their identity hidden?" she questioned and, except for the soft murmuring of Zaion and Azure, who discussed Dusty's treatment, everyone was silent again. "We're on our way there for an investigation." When nobody spoke again, their accusations replaced with narrowed eyes, she continued. "There was an attack on our village without explanation and we decided that taking a party to the base would be a good way to figure it out. We have one of their teammates hostage, which is clear leverage for us."

With a snort, the rhyhorn produced a belittling smile. The other pokémon followed her, and she broke into a rumbling, condescending chortle. Tarla frowned in surprise, completely unsure why their reaction had been as it had. She looked to Derino, who was just as confused. The rhyhorn continued, her laughter breaking off after a good few seconds. "You really aren't from the Rokont Organisation," she confirmed, and those around her nodded, clearly amused.

"Well what's that supposed to mean?" Tarla queried, a frown taking her face.

The rhyhorn only looked at her with a face of cruel mockery. "Walking into their base with one insignificant minor will get you slaughtered; nothing more."

"Not nothing more, leader," one began, and she turned to him. "Perhaps they'll have the privilege of being put on display outside of their base." The room rumbled with more distasteful chuckles, and Tarla swallowed. It was obvious he hadn't meant alive.

The granbull growled, clearly unhappy with her response. "We're going there and that's final."

Thunderquake shot him a condescending glower. "Don't expect us to erect gravestones in your wake."

"Well, go on," shouted a random rhyhorn, "get out of our territory. It's death's territory you want."

"Okay, would you stop with the death thing?" Tarla screeched, but the rock types continued to chuckle between one another. "We're going, regardless of what you think. We don't care if you have a problem with it. We'll go and just...figure out what to do once we get there."

"Send me a messenger bird from the Underworld; I've always wanted to know what it's like," laughed a geodude, and the others slammed fists and shoulders into him in hearty amusement

Tarla shot a glare to the geodude, who didn't even bother to look. "Look," Tarla began, sure that Thunderquake was just as keen to see the "intruders" leave, "all we want is to pass through here." She surveyed the area, sure that this wasn't their most desirable path.

However, it seemed none of them were able to escape back through the hole. Had her wing been fine, she could shoot straight up like a sapling in good weather, and Rentana could teleport herself. However, there were complications with teleportation that Tarla didn't understand; besides, the kirlia had specifically made it clear that she would not take advantage of her ability to teleport while her mate, who was unable to use the same ability, would be left behind. Tarla figured it was fair, although it unfairly limited her abilities, which was the part that annoyed her.

From the corner of her eye, Tarla saw several of the enemy pokémon beginning to wake, their grogginess slowly blinked or shaken out. She was glad that they were not currently in the middle of battle, as they would have to try to defeat the same enemies a second time. That thought was not at all comforting.

"Yes. I too want you gone." Thunderquake tossed a head to the opposite side of the cave, where the two ralts evolutions were. "There's two paths that way and more over there." She threw her gaze to the left wall.

"I was going to make a proposition," admitted the altaria, trying to stand tall. The quadruped rock and ground type raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "We don't know the way out of here. You want us out, so it would only seem logical that you helped us through. Do you not agree?"

"An escort party?" Thunderquake questioned with obvious amusement. Tarla blinked and swallowed, keeping herself composed. "Are you all the age of two years?"

Once again the flareon spluttered and jerked, the wound caused by a horn sealed with ice. The houndoom looked up. "Your vicious beasts did this. Your efforts to make up for it would be...appreciated," he said, almost controlling himself as he dipped his head to stare at her from an angle. The words seemed almost like a threat. The rhyhorn narrowed her eyes and snorted.

"Although I don't appreciate your implication, you dog, I do believe that guidance on our part would benefit us both," she answered, "as we do not live beneath the surface. We travel this way occasionally but our homes are on ground level. We would be making our way out anyway."

"Exactly," Tarla agreed with a civil tone, showing as much submission as she dared. If the rhyhorn needed to feel as if she was in control of the newcomers as well as her own, then the flying type was content, even reluctantly, to abide. It was only the colony pokémon's pride that would have prevented that, and Tarla thought herself lucky being able to shelve it without a problem. Especially when she and others needed aid.

"Very well," the rhyhorn began, looking to the fallen eeveelution upon the ground. Her expression was unreadable as she looked, eyes at half-mast, before she turned her attention elsewhere. "We will comply." Before the altaria could light up with relief, she added, "But you must agree to follow our counsel at every turn. If we tell you to walk a narrow bridge, you walk a narrow bridge. If you must leap across a ravine..." She turned to Tarla, switching from a somewhat condescending voice to one hardened with seriousness. "You jump."

"Ravines and bridges?" questioned the dragon and flying type, and the rhyhorn nodded. "Underground?"

"Yes... I was right," the pokémon mused to herself, staring at the altaria through disapproving eyes. "Your inexperience rules out any possibility that you are Rokonts. Unless, of course, you are staging it."

Tarla decided to keep her beak shut, somehow not interested or willing to acknowledge just how powerful and experienced each member of this mysterious syndicate was and simply nodded. "I'm relieved to see that we finally agree." She readdressed the most recent statement, adding, "None of what you have seen is staged." She moved her head tentatively toward the flareon and watched as the rhyhorn also laid eyes on her. The truth was relatively clear.

"Thunderquake!" boomed one of the woken rhyhorn, startling several pokémon in the room. The rhyhorn looked to him and addressed him with a questioning face, a little unfazed by his rage. "What are you doing? These pokémon blemished our land!" The room fell silent as the other rock and ground types began to listen. "Even if they are not Rokonts," he continued, spitting the last word with contemptuous disgust, "they still pose a physical threat to us."

"Wait a minute," Etire began from a little ways behind the rhyhorn, who looked to him with a sneer. "We've just been sorting this out. We've had the clear and we're good to go. You're not entitled to spoil the agreement now."

"They are fine, Jaskore," Thunderquake told him simply. "Any trace of suspicion has been denied existence." She moved her glare to the altaria and granbull. "Or, rather, mollified."

"Leader, you are making a grave mistake. These pokémon are strangers. Outsiders." He looked to her with such seriousness that Tarla wondered if he had dreamed something ridiculous about them in his period of unconsciousness that confirmed some sort of evil intentions. He took a step forward, his voice filled with wariness. "They cannot be—"

"Do not question my authority again," Thunderquake boomed, her composure completely intact and her voice powerful.

She looked to him with a face nearly blank but tinged with unquestionable authority. The reciprocating rhyhorn watched with a face that clearly suppressed his anger, his features twitching with his effort to remain in control. The two shared silent exchanges of master and servant until the lesser rock type pulled his gaze away with a grunt of displeasure. He threw his glare to a fellow rhyhorn who looked to agree with him.

"My decision is solidified," she announced, each pokémon in the cavern turning their attention her. "Does anybody else wish to oppose me?" She angled her head down with minor manipulation, showing off her large horn. As Tarla scanned the crowd, she concluded that it was the longest and densest of the entire crowd. She wondered if that alone had gained her position, or if it was a combination, or merely a recognised boost for her status as leader.

There was not a stir in the crowd as Thunderquake's eyes brushed over each of her followers, the diglett – who Tarla was unsure was part of her clan or not – also remaining silent. The female rhyhorn gave a short exhalation of satisfaction, turning herself to Tarla with the intentions of discussing small details before they were presumably to head off.

"I do," one voice echoed. There was no movement after the majority of the room turned their heads. The speaker waited as Thunderquake stared at Tarla's fluff, exemplifying her disbelief, before she inched around and lay her sights on a geodude near the rhyhorn, Jaskore, who had previous spoken up. The rock and ground type stood his ground and Thunderquake noticed the corner of Jaskore's mouth curl into a smile.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. The geodude swallowed.

"I believe that Jaskore has a valid argument," he answered. To this Thunderquake turned her whole body, looking to the herd member with a challenging expression.

"So do I," another female rhyhorn admitted and, with a snort, the leader increased the intensity of her glare. However, before she could speak, more raised their voices, beginning to lumber to the initial rebel. The numbers began to rise, to the others' horror, and soon half the herd had sided with Jaskore. Etire and Rentana, behind the wall of back-turned rock and ground types, shook nervously as they realised that they had become cut off from the others. However, they were quick to realise that a rhyhorn and two geodude to their sides had not pledged their allegiance to the rebels, and stood their ground defiantly. They backed up, creating a small shield around the two psychic types, but luckily the traitors didn't seem to yet notice their existence.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Thunderquake roared, her demand for an explanation firm and clear. Her temper rose and quickly peaked. "I am your leader! Anyone who dares to clash their armour with mine will be banished!"

Jaskore showed no visible response to the threat, simply smirking. "My horn may be second to yours in greatness, but the length of one's horn is not all that defines a leader. My followers have recognised such."

The rhyhorn nearly choked in response, booming, "Your followers?!" She scoffed, clearly detesting such a statement. "Your delusions far exceed your horn's greatness; that is certain."

"Silence!" the male boomed, his opposition only sneering without a shadow of respect for his orders. "You have reigned as leader for too long, Thunderquake. It is time...you stepped down."

With an explosion of, "Traitors!" Thunderquake charged forwards, her rumbling steps alerting her supporters to her cause as they followed her into battle. They changed blindly toward Jaskore and his followers, the leader of which smirking with only accompanying disdain.

"Knock them down," he commanded, and the majority of his followers obeyed without a second thought.

More hoots and howls rode the air as both sides clashed, the deafening sound of rock colliding with rock coming to the Usster pokémon's ears. Rentana, Etire and the three on Thunderquake's side were trapped behind the wall of Jaskore's followers, although there were two passages off to their left, where the wall they were up against came closer to meeting one of the side walls. The psychic types realised that the rock types were completely uninclined to run, and looked closer to be readying themselves for battle. The rhyhorn swept a foot along the ground, snorting, while the two geodude slammed curled fists into open palms repeatedly, as if building strength and contemplating where to aim.

Rentana glanced around frantically, wondering if she could teleport to the opening only a little ways down. The only problem was that it was blocked by a few Jaskore followers. "Etire, do you see that passage?"

"No way," he rejected immediately and Rentana looked to him curiously, nearly startled by his abrupt response before he continued. "I'm not abandoning these pokémon. They're staying to fight for what they believe in and I feel that I need to respect that and back them up. Especially when they were willing to protect us." He stared ahead, then to the pokémon, and then back to his mate.

She looked reasonably astounded. "Etire, you can show respect without staying to put yourself in danger."

"No, it..." He began to search his mind and averted his eyes, bringing them back with a pondering expression. "It doesn't feel right to take advantage of their alliance right now, while we're obviously not under attack and just leave." He flicked his head up, like a nod that pointed up instead of down. "Look. It's three against...fifteen? That's not right," he added, shaking his head as if in sympathy. "Five is better odds."

Rentana only stared at him, unsure what to say. She wanted to tell him that he was far too injured to attack, but she greatly admired his spirit and his newfound loyalty to those that needed it, and remained simply silent. She was decided that she would follow him no matter what he decided, and if he had already made up his mind, then that was what she was going to do as well. She wouldn't have split off from him anyway; it was too dangerous to be amongst all these opponents by herself, and even if she did reach the tunnel's mouth, she would be spotted and probably overrun, or at least chased and severed from everyone else. Reluctance to go through that kept her remaining, as well as her fondness for her mate. It was not an easy task, to defy reason and stick to honour and generosity, and she would much rather have paid her tribute to logic.

While the two sides of the clan crashed, Tarla took it upon herself to visit Dusty, who was slowly being helped up by the houndoom and guarded by Azure. She cursed to herself when she saw the flareon's state, dismayed that she had to be in such a condition at the current time, as obviously that hindered them to a great extent. She frowned on their misfortune as she reached the flareon's side and began questioning the houndoom. "Is she alright? Will she live?"

The houndoom, despite his worried expression, softened for a moment and snorted. "Of course she'll live. It may be a puncture, but her heart's not in her side."

Tarla gave him a murky sneer as she looked the injured fire type over. "What are we gonna do with her?"

"The only thing we can do," the houndoom responded. "Carry her until we can get her treated. Unless you or the psychic types over there – who, by the way, seem to be trapped – can magically heal her."

"We'll leave it up to natural pokémon ability," Tarla responded, trying to put emotion aside. This seemed like a pokémon she wouldn't get along with, so she tried to ignore him altogether. "How bad is the wound itself?"

"Not as bad as I initially thought," he responded casually. "It'll bleed like there's no tomorrow, but it's not deep enough to do serious damage without immediate help." He swept his eyes quickly over her face. "She probably passed out from the shock more than anything. I would assume her body shut her mind down so she wouldn't make it worse."

Tarla was unsure if that was possible, but gave a nod and decided not to question it. "Good news...I think."

"At least the ice slowed the bleeding...or kept it cold or something," the houndoom muttered, eying the puncture wound, which bled with a mixture of clear and crimson fluid.

"I'm...not sure that was the best thing to do." Tarla gave a quick cringe as she imagined how that would feel and then wondered how much good it did.

Both pokémon noticed as the flareon began to stir, and with a groan and a grunt, Dusty opened her eyes. "Ngh... It hurts like a bitch," she hissed grudgingly as she lifted her head, and Tarla was marginally surprised; even if she had woken, she had almost expected her not to talk.

"Are you...alright?" she questioned after ensuring that there was no immediate danger directly beside them. The clashing, roaring and shouting was daunting, and she kept expecting someone to break away from the crowd and inexplicably decide to attack them. It was unlikely and impractical, given how busy they were with Thunderquake's half of the herd, but her mind obscured reasonability and paved a path for panic.

"I'm in a crap-load of pain..." the flareon rasped, trying to see past the tears her eyes leaked. Following the statement, she looked about, confused at the sight of the battle. "What the...? What's with the civil war?"

"A rebel is to blame," answered Zaion, and upon noticing his presence, Dusty gave a particular look. If he had been helping her then she was grateful, but she found it hard to determine what exactly she thought of the whole situation. Whatever she thought, it was dulled by the pain that pulsed through her mind and caused her to cringe. It was hard to think of anything in such a state.

ooo

Zaion explained the entire situation to me – Jaskore's failure to listen to anybody but himself and Thunderquake's belief in our party – and I shook my head, unsure what to think. Quickly I asked the name of the granbull, who I had forgotten, and he explained that I was "lucky" to hear it from him, considering he only knew through picking it up from one of the others who had mentioned it.

Attempting to blink out the pain, I tried to stand on my own, uttering to the houndoom to release me. However, my side rippled with pain, shrieking in response to the pressure I put on my back leg. The pain was excruciating, like some sort of freezing wave of jagged ice was slicing me in a single spot, cutting through my flesh without reserve. I knew there was ice in my side, but that was only part of the pain. It made it extremely uncomfortable, and in all honesty I wanted it out. The ice was beginning to burn my skin and the icicle itself was pressing against my flesh as I applied pressure. I braced myself and angled my body so the wound compressed a little, clenching my jaws as the ice slid out and dropped to the floor. The pain was odd and still uncomfortable, but I was much better off having it out.

Two rhyhorn broke away from the pack, both charging into each other as they ran to the wall I was next to, but further down. They had been braced against one another and proved that neither was stronger, so when they crashed into the wall, both were still forcing their weight against the other, the wall splitting a little as they collided with it. In response to the scene, I blinked a few times, noticing as a couple of geodude hopped back, only to rip small boulders growing from the ground and thrust them forward, as if they were being fired out of a cannon. They landed on the opposition, who shook it off after momentarily buffeted, and returned the favour by mirroring the action or by charging. I wondered what the fight could be about as I watched on, momentarily reminded of the ship.

The geodude reminded me of Roarake, who could have, for all I knew, belonged to this clan or another somewhere around these mountains once. It made me consider something: did Team Rocket sweep the wilderness in search of pokémon strong enough to take up residence amongst their rankings? It would have been tedious, but in order to form some basis for a strong army, I wouldn't be surprised. Trainers already did it, although they generally veered from the most dangerous and heavily populated areas. These Rockets, on the other hand, had no limits and didn't restrict themselves for the reason of power and overconfidence. I understood that Roarake himself had a trainer, but I had certainly seen other rock types on the ship who could easily have been wild before their imprisonment.

"We have to get out of here," I heard Azure say, and weakly I nodded in full agreement. Watching the battle before me, it was easy to determine my wish for a course of action—flee!

"I'm all for Frosty's decision," I responded quickly, and the glaceon stared at me, bemused. I gave a shrug and a particular expression, to which she only frowned, trying to figure out why I'd called her Frosty. Really it was just to give her a nickname based on her ice type qualities. "Is there a way out?" Shortly after asking I glanced about, noticing a few exit tunnels to the sides of the walls up ahead.

"I can see three from here and I know there's at least another two," Tarla added, and I gave a short nod, cringing from the constant throb of my open wound. I tried not to focus on the many other parts of my body that were in more dulled agony, but agony nonetheless.

"Can't we just go out the way we came?" I questioned, puzzled as to why we would have to take one of the suggested tunnels.

Tarla seemed to soften with realisation after finding a reason in her mind why we wouldn't do so. I imagine she simply couldn't find a reason after assuming there was one, and made a small noise of acknowledgement. "Yeah...we could." She glanced behind us; a few metres away rested the entrance. "There were other tunnels to turn off into, weren't there?" she asked, and I nodded, remembering that she hadn't been with us underground.

"Wait," Derino began, having listened to the entire conversation without interjecting at all. The others, including me, turned to him. "We are missing the psychic types." He move his stern and inquisitive glare to the battle occurring down the other end of the room. There was absolutely no trace of either of them, and while I didn't know them or their position at all, I imagined that they would probably have been a little frightened...and possibly trapped.

"We have to get them out," Tarla stated, as if it was a fact that we had already planned it. I didn't disagree, however, but obviously I wasn't in a state to walk by myself, let alone battle. The idea would have been utterly ridiculous, but I suddenly cringed as I imagined that I might have to if the battle grew worse before we could retrieve the ralts evolutions.

All at once I lit up with an idea, wondering why I hadn't thought of it beforehand. "Wait a minute," I began, and Tarla, who had been rather intent on crossing the room and attacking her way through to her friends, stopped after a few paces and turned to me, looking a little isolated as she had broken away from our group. It made me a little nervous as I glanced to the brawling rock types, but tried not to focus on them. "Why can't they just teleport?"

Tarla wasted no time in revealing to me the answer. "Etire can't use it and Rentana's not going to use it if it means only she can escape."

"But...couldn't sheteleport with him?"

"Psychic types have...some sort of unspoken, unofficial rule," Tarla began to answer, at first looking to be in a rush but soon changing to something somewhat calmer, yet still alert. "Teleporting yourself is like any other act. It can be used at the expense of little energy, but teleporting yourself plus another is far more costly." She glanced to the clashing pokémon. "I doubt she has nearly enough energy to teleport both her and her mate out of there. Even a little while is a lot, especially when crossing a path of live creatures."

I tried not to question it further, figuring that it made sense in a way that would probably never allow my brain to click in understanding, and, before she ran off, questioned her one last time. "Why can't Etire use teleport too? He's a ralts evolution, isn't he?"

The altaria sighed through the nostrils of her closed beak, averting her eyes in frustration before returning to me, her impatience louder than her words. "It's not as simple as just using it." She glanced to Derino before she laid eyes on Azure. The eeveelution seemed to understand her silent meaning and began to pursue her; the two raced off toward the line of rock and ground pokémon while I stood there, a little perplexed. Before he ran off as well Derino faced me and continued the explanation.

"Etire specialises in physical attack and has been too long without mental attacks, or attacks that do not involve contact with his body to another's, and thus his ability has diminished. He no longer has the ability to use many of his psychic abilities, teleportation included." With that, the granbull tore from me and Zaion and thudded toward the battling pokémon. He came upon the battle, squeezing through the row closest to us, as they were our allies, and began attacking. Tarla and Azure both stuck to more tactical means and the former sprayed the foes with her dragonbreath as she stood to the side of the crowd while Azure rained them with shards of ice.

I watched with a neutral expression, trying to ignore the incessant pain. "Uhh...so what do we do?"

"Well you can't do much. I'll just have to wait here and protect you."

I snorted in amusement with an accompanying chuckle, finding the prospect perhaps mockingly amusing. "Yeah. Right. So you're just gonna stand here and guard me then?" The houndoom looked at me with a particular face and raised his brow. I released my smirk and felt my jolliness dwindle. "...You're kidding."

"Look at that wound," he instructed, gesturing with his paw to the opening in my side. I glanced down to it, shrugging as I pretended its consistent weeping meant nothing. "You can't go running around with something like that."

I cringed, trying not to move as I considered his statement. "Yeah...heh, I guess not." I groaned again and progressed into a lying position, completely unsure how to place myself to cause the least amount of pain. The constant throbbing was always there, of course, but it was made worse when I strained myself.

I watched with particular longing as my teammates fought the opposing pokémon, catching specific sight of Thunderquake, who, in particular, was ploughing through the pokémon around her, trying to get to Jaskore, or who I assumed was Jaskore (as most of those rhyhorn looked the same to me). She was specifically identifiable by the rearing fire in her I so highly approved of, and I assumed that Jaskore would be easy to spot based on his repulsion to sense and reason. This told me that he was probably going to be the rhyhorn using ground attacks on a flying type.

"Get the Rokonts!" boomed a rhyhorn from within the crowd to a teammate of theirs who was separate to the rest. "Look, the injured one. She lives! Finish her off!"

"Do you really think a Rokont would care enough about her fluff to have it so full?" I exclaimed, a little astounded by their ignorance. I moved my tail, remembering again that it was not full. I lowered my eyes halfway down my eyeballs in annoyance and returned my cringing gaze to the rock type, my stomach constricting as a ripple of pain began to pulse from the wound. I was confused why it had started to arc up again and lay down, horrified, as the pain began to intensify and spread. I quickly wondered if it was because the ice had been taken out and it was growing warm again.

I had no time to mention anything to Zaion as the stomping, roaring, rude pokémon powered our way with an aim to injure. The houndoom raced forward, surprisingly straight toward the charging pokémon. I couldn't understand his actions, but was too focused on my pain to yell anything to him, and watched as he timed a leap to land on the rhyhorn's front. Instantly he pushed off, the force of his jump making the rhyhorn's head bounce down, before he flew over him. He landed behind the creature, turning quickly to deliver a sinister wave of dark energy which swept the ground until it washed over him, the radius large enough to swallow a diglett in its path and flow partway onto another rhyhorn in the crowd.

The one between us released a shriek of pain and I watched as, instead of the pokémon flying toward me with a lowered horn, he turned around, capturing the houndoom in his deathly glare and began to sweep the ground. I was marginally surprised he seemed to forget me, but figured that, when blinded by rage, there was nothing to stop a rhyhorn.

"Come on," the fire and dark type teased, his tail whipping the air as he showed a toothy grin. His bared teeth was clearly some kind of hostile challenge. I knew that card; I enjoyed mockery mingled with animosity in battles.

"You will pay for your actions!" the rhyhorn roared, rearing back before charging toward him. Zaion only gave a look that ridiculed sympathy and worked like a charm as a tease.

Up ahead, Derino was flung from the crowd and smacked into the wall to the left of the room—the one I had been trapped between when the shield was on my other side and there was a charging predator stomping my way. He sunk quickly and caught himself on the ground, his head jerking up to glare at what I was partially sure was Jaskore. I had no idea where Thunderquake had gone, and with a sudden twinge in the pit of my stomach, I suddenly hoped she hadn't been defeated by the rebels.

However, my relief was resumed when she charged from the crowd, flinging others aside, and tackled her rival from behind. He jerked away, slamming into the ground after a short ride through the air after she had flicked him off her front. "We were not finished!"

Removing my attention from the two brawling nearby, I looked ahead but couldn't exactly make out what was happening with Tarla and the others, but within the instant, my attention had shifted to something of a much larger scale.

At first I wondered if one of the rhyhorn had used earthquake, but thought again, figuring that they would have to be really stupid to use it in a place such as this one, where the walls and roof could collapse. For a moment I thought it would make sense of the user was Jaskore. I thought that it must have been the case—until I witnessed the entire room express the similar confusion to what I was experiencing, and figured that the culprit must have been nobody in the room. Still, my scepticism and suspicion continued to rise as my body jittered in an undefined manner, watching as some of the geodude were carried across the floor a few steps before collecting themselves and trying to bounce off in a direction of their choice. It didn't work, however, and it was soon clear that they were the ones affected most. It quickly worsened, the rumble beginning to vibrate at a rate that nearly threw the rhyhorn off balance. I felt my wound buzz with an uncomfortable sensation and cringed.

I continued to have no idea what was going on as the ceiling, piece by piece, began to shatter. Bits and pieces fell from above, the result sometimes small pebbles, and other times large boulders. It didn't take long for the crowd to erupt with screams and calls, and they all began to separate into different tunnels on the other side of the room.

My heart was racing in my chest as I glanced frantically around, only able to see a shaky haze of stony grey and ochre. I tried to force myself to my paws, a rock wedging itself into the ground right beside me as I jumped, feeling the effects of the wound take hold as I blurted a reaction to the pain and began to limp across the room. A number of other pokémon were rumbling around, some of them charging past me to get through the entrance from which we came, disregarding me in the meantime and slamming my side, flinging me away. I ended on my back, and bellowed with pain as I rolled over and leapt back onto my paws, the thought of survival and care for my injury the only one on my mind.

Upon trying to search for a familiar face, namely Zaion, who had disappeared, a small rock struck my back leg. I ignored it, however, after catching sight of a lilac fuzz. It was racing toward me on four legs, and I realised that it was the granbull, his face determined as he came near enough for me to detect an expression. Once beside me, he hauled me over his shoulder and began to run toward a tunnel, his two legs horribly inefficient compared to how quickly he progressed on all-fours. I was rather surprised that the granbull had suddenly hauled me over his shoulder, but didn't complain; I had no other way to escape so I was going to take what I was given.

The thought of us being crushed by plates from the ceiling, which were tumbling down faster than before, was absolutely petrifying, and I hardly noticed as debris clung to the rim of my wound, some slipping inside. Despite how hard the normal type was working, we didn't make it before the ground nearby suddenly exploded with rocks, some striking the remaining rhyhorn nearby who were still struggling to escape. A gigantic figure emerged from the ground, but in the vibrations and storm of rocks, all I could see were giant blobs of silver. I could only determine that it was a steelix once it stopped as we tried to continue. A tail swiped over us and slammed into a wall, rock splitting and spraying overhead. I released a noise of panic and felt myself instinctively struggle against Derino's grip, the fear in my mind building.

I realised we were headed directly toward the exit that Tarla and Azure had taken, who had I seen disappear while Derino had been on his way over to me, and wondered if they had just…disregarded me. Not only was it a matter of saving the injured, but it was also that they had neglected me as a companion, and more importantly...as part of their colony. I under stood I was new, and perhaps that made me somewhat disposable, but there wasn't even an acknowledging nod in my direction.

No matter how prevalent the thought attempted to be, it dissipated to nothing as the steelix threw a boulder in our way, completely obscuring the exit. I screamed in shock, scrambling down from the normal type while scratching his thick hide and slamming into the floor, not thinking as I tried to collect myself and immediately raced toward the nearest tunnel, which was also blocked off by a boulder.

"No!" I droned, feeling tears of fear and angst gathering faster than I could have registered. The wound in my side burned furiously, and if I had no accompanying reason in that moment, I would have stopped to tend to it. The pain of the agitated wound was excruciating and I knew I couldn't stand it much longer. The sudden thought of failing to retain my consciousness and slipping back into a comatose-like state was newly overpowering, the shock of the thought driving me to push myself harder to ensure I was at least somewhat safer if it did happen.

The granbull, out of impulse, slammed into the side of the steelix, distracting the creature and his great bulk as I scampered across the floor, tearing at the ground to propel myself forward, my limbs aching with the sheer effort it took me to reach one or two of the tunnels not blocked by boulders this end of the room. Another rock tumbled down from above, bouncing off the wall and separating a pace away from me, fragments of the rock striking my face as I fled from it, escaping into a tunnel at the pressing demands of Derino, as he continued his attempt to hold off the attacker.

Immediately after my half tail disappeared through the entrance, another boulder slammed behind me. After thinking that was the end of it, my brain registered that the boulder was too small to jam the exit, and with the shock of horror and fear, I watched as it began to roll toward me. I screamed, dashing as best I could in my condition down the tunnel as the noise from the room slowly began to fade to nothing but silence. My legs kept racing and I was positive I was going to trip over my paws at the rate I was running when the boulder slammed to a stop once it hit a dip in the tunnel's roof which enclosed the space too drastically for it to be able to fit through any longer.

Once I noticed it had stopped, I came to an instant halt and threw myself on the ground, my heart pounding, head drowning in thoughts and feelings, and wound hammering my side. I couldn't understand how such a pain existed; it became my entire string of thoughts as I remained on my belly, groaning and tensing different muscles at once, as if that would somehow help to alleviate the pain. I came to realise that nothing would and felt myself constantly spit up blubbering cries, accompanying tears streaming down my fur and dropping off the end of stands and onto the floor.

I lay there, utterly exhausted, and wondered how on earth I was meant to continue. I wasn't even sure how to continue or where to go, and what to do when there. The festering wound was the only thing my mind would turn to, and distracting it proved absolutely useless. It was times like this when I wished I was still with Master… She would know what to do.

The fact that I couldn't reach her, that she was another impossible fantasy I could only dream of being by the side of, fighting for again, was haunting. She was my trainer, the one who raised me to be as strong as I was and who taught me morals and values…and we had been torn from one another. I had never imagined anything could have ripped us apart – not even the strength of a thousand-day storm – but this time, the winds had simply been too strong. The thought of her made me realised that it was unlikely I would even encounter her again…ever. I had been taken.

My face pressed against the ground as I stared into darkness. My body didn't move as I felt the continual pulsing of the wound, which felt as if it was climbing my body and flaring in unrelated places as well, and began to feel the other injuries I had acquired both during the travels as in the recent battle, even if they were lesser. The tears wetting my face began to cool, and I felt it puddle around my cheek. The blood from my wound was causing a warm trail down the side of my belly which met with the floor to pool, and tried to remain with my eyes closed. I didn't know what I hoped to achieve, but the moment's depression was too overwhelming. I needed rest. I needed calm.