Chapter Twenty-nine: All Shapes and Sizes

Stirring from a sleep he was due to wake from, a houndoom groaned, rising to his paws and inhaling. When he exhaled, his eyes squinted and he cringed, clearly uncomfortable on an unfamiliar bed of pebbles. Pushing himself up, he stared around, seeing mostly darkness, with a few discernible features here and there. When he looked over his left shoulder, he suddenly jolted, for a large powder blue figure obscured his vision. The quagsire looked on with a placid smile, his large paws out in front, resting against the front of his body. He did nothing but stand as the houndoom raised a curious brow.

"Well…this is a surprise." He looked away, remembering there was nothing he could accurately see, before he blinked and suddenly paid heed a recurring thought. 'Dusty…'

The fire and dark type shot up, racing back the way he came. He heard the quagsire pounding after him shortly behind. It didn't take him more than a few steps to come to an overflowing spillage of rocks, dense dirt and similar assorted debris. He came to a quick halt and stared, completely unsure how to react. It didn't take long for surprise to set in as he found that that they way they had come was blocked off. He and the quagsire were trapped on the other side of the rock slide. The realisation was not a pleasant one, as he was less than happy to have been separated from the flareon in her rather delicate state.

He remained defiant, eyes firmly set on the pile as he compressed his jaws, starting to scrape the earth with his claws. His mind was reluctant to admit defeat as he continued to stare. His thoughts whirred as he tried to imagine what kind of state the flareon in which the flareon, mentally, must have been. Surely she would have been mulling over reasons why she was abandoned – not just by him, but by anybody else who failed to come to her aid – and, as he was reluctant to admit, may not be able to carry on. Her condition was far from enabling her to properly travel, and he worried with a heavy heart what she would probably have to make it through the caves by herself.

'Damn,' he thought to himself with a bitter edge. His lip twitched in a snarl, his tail flicking in agitation. 'She's in serious danger if she's on her own.' He glared to the sides, barely able to see in the minimal light. 'Who knows what kind of pokémon could be lurking in the dark?'

He growled at the thought of being ushered through the cave involuntarily; he remembered clearly that when he had made a dash to the nearest tunnel, his paws had stopped him and he turned on his paw-pads, trying his hardest to see over the crowd as he spotted the flareon on the opposite side of the room. He had tried to call, but the massive influx of stampeding rhyhorn had completely swept him from his sturdy stance and carried him through the tunnel with mingled shouts and surprising speed. He had struggled against the force of their shoves and runs, but when he slipped down, he was only battered and thrown between the pokémon either side of him until he was again picked up by a charging rhyhorn. One of them accidentally knocked the side of the passage before it opened up into another room and caused some of the earth to collapse from above, along with thick boulders and other locks lodged in the composition. He was sure that some had gotten trapped on the other side of the mass, but wasn't able to deduce before he was tossed aside and lost consciousness.

He hadn't seen the quagsire follow him into the cave, and assumed that he must have been caught with the charging pokémon amidst the confusion. Zaion was glad he woke to find him there, however, for he would not have wanted to find himself alone in a habitat for ground and rock types. If more rhyhorn, or any other rock or ground type, tried to attack them, he was confident that the pokémon beside him could deal serious damage and ultimately frighten away everybody who aimed them. The last thing Zaion needed was another brawl; he was positively exhausted after the exertion he had warranted and knew that the quagsire was likely feeling the same. Deciding that making conversation would be the best way to establish any kind of bond they would require for travelling with one another, the houndoom turned around and asked for his name.

The pokémon only looked back, his face unchanging. Zaion waited a moment, confused by the water and ground type's silence, until he opened his wide mouth and responded with, "Quaaaagsiiiirre."

Zaion's brow rose, his eyes widening a little as he stared with great perplexity. "O…kay," he uttered, clearing his throat. "You're either with an inability to produce actual words, or…your sense of humour is terrible." He chuckled at the start part of his sentence, holding his breath in his throat as he waited for a response. His expression was a request for the latter, no matter how horrible the humour was, but released his breath as a sigh of disappointment, closing his eyes to think. "What are you…a slow learner? Mentally challenged, maybe?"

He was only met with a continual dopey smile. When Zaion tore away from him, deeming him rather useless to try and communicate with, he heard a, "Quaaag."

Groaning with annoyance, the houndoom lowered his head, allowing it to hang from between his shoulders. "Great."

-ooo-

Leaning against the side of the cave wall, a figure groaned, clutching at several wounds either bleeding or pulsing with the future effects of a bruise. The pain trickled into places he hadn't realised were injured beforehand, and with an inward whine, he wondered why he had managed to escape down the passage which nobody else followed. On the other side of the small cavern sat a rhyhorn, breathing shallowly as its consciousness remained not with its body. With a soft bite of his lip, the krinar hoped that the rhyhorn was, in case, on his side and not Jaskore's. "The nerve of that guy…" he grumbled, wondering what had to have been so bad about Thunderquake. As for as he could tell, the rhyhorn was a suitable leader who was more than capable of leading a herd. He wondered why the rebels had formed in opposition of her leadership.

Tunnels leading from the room veered off into several different directions, but the way he came certainly wasn't an option. Stampeding rock types were not healthy for the caves, as he had witnessed constant falling stalactites as he had been admitted into the passage. It was only half-voluntary, too, as he had thought Rentana was following. For some reason she didn't follow, which weighed heavily on him. With nobody to support him when he walked, he knew he was going to have a hard time making it anywhere. As well as that, he knew that she would be absolutely horrified to learn of their separation.

He sighed. 'Sometimes I wish she could just…do more on her own,' he told himself. He gazed up at the ceiling, understanding her actions, but misunderstanding why she couldn't change every once in a while. She didn't need him to survive. '...At least, I hope not. If something were to happen to me, then...' His thoughts dissipated before he could finish them.

On the other side of the cavern floor, down a slope that curled around the circular room, the rhyhorn began to stir. Etire watched and braced himself, hoping that, if the rhyhorn was a rebel, that he or she would simply ignore him and move on. After all, there was no point in attacking the enemy if the commander wasn't around. At least...Etire didn't think so. His eyes went wide with the thought.

Lifting himself to his feet, the rhyhorn shook off and began to glance around, spotting Etire on the top of the rise, which panned out flat for a few metres before the drop to the floor threatened anybody who came too close. The krinar watched as the rhyhorn's eyes were firmly fixed, and finally the pokémon lowered his head, beginning to stalk up the slope.

"No," Etire groaned, more inconvenienced than frightened. "What...what are you doing? Come on; this is nonsense. I'm a cripple for Raikou's sake!"

"Should that matter?" the rhyhorn grumbled, hardly a hint of maliciousness in his tone.

"Well...yes!" He raised his arm, wincing as he felt it pulse. "Your leader isn't here, so there's no need to attack me. Please? I can't even fight back in this condition. That's not a fair win."

"It's a fair extermination," answered the rhyhorn, closing in on him.

"But...why would you want to exterminate me?"

"I don't care for chitchat, krinar," he hissed, stopping at the top of the slope.

"Neither do I, usually," he responded, although the moment it came out of his mouth, he questioned it with a tilted head. He watched as the pokémon came closer and swallowed. "Hey, you better watch it. I am part fighting type, don't forget."

"Means nothing if you can't fight."

"Claws off," a third voice grumbled, a growl echoing through the small room. Etire, who was rather startled, glanced down to find another rhyhorn situated in the entrance to one of the passages they had a choice of going through. The rhyhorn, clearly female, was not Thunderquake, but looked about as determined.

"A saviour?" questioned the psychic and fighting type, peering down at the pokémon.

"Come on. Try your horn on a real target, you wuss," the female baited, turning around to wag her tiny tail at the pokémon of the same species. In response, the rhyhorn flared with fury, his body rearing around as he lost all trace of interest in the cripple against the wall, and began to charge down the slant and directly at the opposing rhyhorn.

Etire watched with interest as the pokémon clashed, their faces twisted with anger and determination; the female's included teasing mockery, which clearly enraged her opponent. It wasn't long before the rebel tossed the female aside, and she slid a small distance before aiming at him and propelling her way through the room. Instead of avoiding the attack he merely set his head down and sped forward, and the two collided again. Etire suddenly wished that he had more access to his mental ability to attack in order to help his defender and cursed as the two fought to finish on top.

A small quake shook the room with unexpected timing, the two fighting suddenly breaking off their attacks and surveying the ceiling. Etire was doing the same, panic beginning to install itself into his system. He attempted to keep it suppressed and tried mentally mapping his way out of the cave without gravely injuring himself. There had been foot holes in the side of the raised rock that he was atop, and knew he could simply descend that to the floor if he had the strength. Presently the idea was insane, however, and instead of successfully coming up with a new plan, his thoughts were absorbed by the thirst which had been nagging him for a considerable time. His tongue was drier than it should have been, his cheeks unable to emit the appropriate measure of saliva to keep his mouth moist. His throat was in a similar position, and each time he swallowed, he felt both sides of his oesophagus peel away from each other, rather than slide apart. The feeling was less than comfortable, but the ability to do anything in response was severely cut off.

"Krinar!" shouted the female rhyhorn from below, and he looked to her, surprised to find that she had broken away from the other one. He had fled down a tunnel, the same one the female had emerged from, and Etire guessed that she again wished to travel the same path, but with an extra this time. "Get down from there!"

"I can't!" he called back, and to that the rhyhorn made a face of confusion. "I'm a cripple! Half my limbs were damaged earlier." He glanced warily up to the ceiling, watching as bits of stone crumbled.

The armoured pokémon looked rather conflicted and made a move to head for the slope only a few paces from where she stood before she decided properly and rumbled up it, arriving by his side in no time. She nudged one of his arms over her head, ensuring she didn't injure him with her horn, and encouraged him to stand. Although he whined with the effort, he was able to stand and lean against her. She checked that he was fastened and they began the descent.

At one point, the rhyhorn nearly slipped as one of her front feet rolled on a few small rocks, but, with a jerk that the krinar was force forward during, she righted herself and grudgingly apologised. She and the krinar made it out of the room with little injury; a few smallish rocks had landed on Etire's pelt, and whatever struck the rock type simply bounced off with failure to cause any sort of harm. For a moment, Etire felt a pang of jealousy for a pokémon so unaffected by most attacks. He had never exactly thought the idea that his fighting moves could cause them severe damage was peculiar, when a normal hit or punch wouldn't have done a thing, until that moment. Thinking on it for a while, he came to the conclusion that fighting types had a special ability to control the force of the attack to strike what's vulnerable in a rock type, as opposed to mindlessly battering their impenetrable armour. He had no idea how accurate the assumption was, but desired not to trouble himself over such things.

His thoughts turned to other matters once they passed into another room that harboured a few different levels with edges that looked artificially crumbled – a result of the small group of rhyhorn's clambering experiments after each pokémon piled through the tunnel, Etire figured – and they blundered down. The psychic type felt rather useless as he continued, unable to properly keep himself upright and slipping down. He was caught by his helper's shoulder and he looked to her gratefully but said nothing.

They progressed, the krinar keeping himself quiet when he stood on sharp stones, until they reached a point in the elongated passage where the shaking was hardly present. Behind them, the last of the larger rocks dropped and collapsed into a stony heap, and they both sighed with relief. Etire was set down and leant up against the wall while seated, tilting his head back with his eyes closed. He panted repeatedly, feeling the dryness of his throat even more now. He sighed, discontent with the fact that there didn't appear to be a speck of water about. He only hoped they would come across some sort of underground pool.

The rhyhorn was standing a few paces away, watching the minor destruction that the passage had caused itself. She turned to the sound of the male's voice. "Where did you come from?"

Her mind didn't quite comprehend his meaning. "What?"

"You're the only one here. What happened to all the others?" he inquired, a little dumbfounded at the absence of other rhyhorn and geodude.

"The confusion drove most away, I'm guessing," she responded calmly. "I know that every pokémon went for the passage they were closest to, or followed everyone else through what they probably presumed was the safest route. I saw your kirlia friend escape through a tunnel after being ushered by a number of my kind, while you were left behind." She eyed him cautiously. "Did she abandon you?"

"No," he chuckled lightly, "she could never do that. She told me she would quickly assess the passages to deduce which was the safest before she was going to choose one for us, but once she stepped out before the entry, the others pushed her through. I tried to follow her, but the same thing happened to me, although through a different tunnel. I wouldn't have been able to walk all this way, anyway..." He glanced to his right, in the direction of the room he had previously been. "I dragged myself up the slope to avoid thugs like that guy." He nodded his head toward the passage to the next room, assuming the other rhyhorn slipped through there.

"A futile effort, clearly," she responded, bobbing her head in understanding. The krinar waited a moment before nodding.

"Do you have a clue of where we're headed?"

"Nope," the rhyhorn answered factually, glancing toward the exit. "But I have travelled these paths before. Not these exact ones, but once we get to a certain point, I might be able to lead us to the surface."

"Good to have you." Etire figured that, if he wasn't torn to pieces by that first rhyhorn, without her, he wouldn't have been able to make his way through to the next room while he ceiling collapsed around him.

She gave a neutral smile.

-ooo-

The hairs on the pokémon's back remained erect as she and her fluffy friend travelled through the caves, extremely alert and eyes flicking about in preparation for any sudden attacks that could be directed their way. Rhyhorn and geodude lined the walls, some up and ready to fight, others exhausted and wishing to rest. The ones that were on their bellies watched grudgingly as the two Ussters passed, and a few up ahead showed no interest, while a duo rearing to go broke from the wall and began charging. The large bird pokémon shouted warnings as the quadruped braced herself and felt a momentary rush before she built the required ice and fired it, watching as it dowsed the two rhyhorn and ended with shrieks. One of them blinked repeatedly and lost complete focus as he realised that his horn had been frozen solid, and charged blindly right past them as he eyed the ice. The other came to a halt and backed away, sticking to the wall of the narrow passage while the two passed, their backs awkwardly trying to face one another.

Walking sideways was a new concept to Azure, and as she tried to do so, her many paws continuously forgot their place and made her stumble. Eventually she resorted to walking normally while the altaria by her side waked backwards. Their combined efforts got them through to the next room, which looked to have few inhabitants, to their relief. There hadn't been a large amount in the previous room, but, were it not for their split allegiances, their combined numbers could have formed a small force—one that two pokémon, one with a number of disadvantages, were not equipped to handle.

Up ahead, as Tarla turned around to face the same direction her legs took her, Azure caught sight of a rhyhorn she recognised: Thunderquake. As she began to approach, the leader looked their way and seemed to be in the middle of indecision. The two glanced to each other, trying to decide if they should speak with her or not. "...She might know a way out," Tarla reasoned, and Azure, although hesitant, agreed. "Excuse me, can you tell us the way out?"

The rock and ground pokémon steadied her gaze warily. She broke away from the company she had been conversing with and trudged towards them. She straightened her shoulders and looked to relax a little, her plates of armour fitting nicely together. Her small judgemental eyes studied those before her. "Is your purpose true?"

Azure wanted to roll her eyes, but Tarla kept herself composed. "Yes. We have come this way because our colony was attacked by three pokémon believed to be members of the Rokont Organisation. A small party including myself left to find where these felons resided after one of the captives told us that their hideout was in these upcoming mountains." She looked up, almost as if she was about to gesture to them, only to realise they were not within her view. "We only wish to pass through and find our way through those mountains, to that hideout."

The rhyhorn considered her words, but even if she was sceptical, Tarla knew that she was not inclined to attack them after she believed their words back in the cavern. She watched her draw a breath. "It is said that they have a settlement in the mountains, yes, but I have not heard from them in a number of weeks. Months, even."

Tarla's brow dropped. "What do you mean, heard from them?"

"I use the term lightly and perhaps inaccurately," she sneered. She then averted her gaze before continuing. "I cannot begin to explain what they have put my herd through. My father, Tynor, was a great pokémon capable of many things. He was...killed during the largest battle our herd has ever been a part of. The likes of a ruthless torterra was simply too much for his bulk to handle." She trailed off, her face rather stripped of emotion as she stared at rock lining the walls. "Before then, there were regular attacks on Rumblerock, our home and the name of these parts. Members were killed without reason." She glared at the dragon and flying type, and she shivered, suddenly understanding the full blow these pokémon had taken under the cruel fist of the Rokonts. "My father wanted to put a stop to the unwarranted violence. He made an attack on their base, leaving me behind in order to keep me from harm. Consequently I do not know the location of this hideout. He and a number of the herd returned, but not without permanent scars, both physically and emotionally. Over half the soldiers he took were either killed or knocked unconscious, probably later to be taken prisoner.

"They returned for revenge, or, as my father had uttered to me as the onslaught began outside our den, they had come to seal our fates." The words washed down Tarla's back, erecting many small bumps in response. "...He was killed that day, along with countless friends and foes alike. The day was...an epic tragedy. The opposition withdrew merely to spite us and demonstrate their power...without the need to wipe us all out. Perhaps we were no longer a thorn in their paws, but merely a petal to be crushed at any chosen time." The rhyhorn's face remained as if she had betrayed no information, but the words spoken clearly opposed that.

Tarla was shocked and continued to look at her, a face of sympathy reflecting her thoughts. She flashed to Azure, who seemed relatively expressionless, and wasn't sure what she was thinking.

"Do you understand our reaction to your presence? Was it not understandable that we suspected malicious intent after experiencing similar things with a sinister group you could have easily been a part of?" she scoffed, allowing her brows to shape a sort of disgust. "Rokont parties are composed of assorted pokémon to cover all weaknesses and strengths. How do you think we would have reacted, given the assumption, which, as you can see, was entirely legitimised?"

The two shared a quick glance before returning their eyes. "It is entirely understandable," Tarla reassured. "...Deepest apologies."

Thunderquake only shook her head and snorted, averting her gaze. "Save them for someone who needs them."

Azure threw a look which could be accompanied by a scoff, indicating the ungratefulness of the rock and ground type, but Tarla only let her sympathy drain away. "You said...that these areas are called Rumblerock."

"Yes," she began immediately, "we are in Rumblerock Pass."

"Does that mean...this land is your territory?"

"No. My herd does not own the entire province of Rumblerock, but occupy a mere section of it. The extent was larger before...before my father was murdered." She heaved a sigh and turned around again. "You ask if I know the way out. Yes and no. My herd and I have a rough idea of a general direction, but not a specific path."

"These rhyhorn are your herd? Not...the traitors?" wondered Azure, glancing at the few in the room but remembering the larger number in the passage they had crossed through. Thunderquake nodded. "Why are half of them giving us those looks? They're on your side, aren't they?"

"Is a free mind a foreign concept to you?" she queried, her eyes accusatory as she eyed the glaceon over.

"N...no," she began, a little taken aback. "I just...thought..."

"Many of them understand you are not Rokonts. Many of them still blame you for what you have caused. I am one of those many, but I will not refuse to aid you."

"Thank you," Tarla said, giving a small nod. "It is appreciated."

"It is not from the goodness of my heart," the rhyhorn added, dipping her head and turning it on its side a little, her expression stern, as if to warn them that they had no warrant to believe they had been spared out of understanding. "If we do not help you, you will wander around this pass for a time much longer than we wish for you to stay. The closer you are the us, the more harm you can do." She narrowed her eyes a small amount. "Understand this."

"We understand," Tarla responded, nodding compliantly, as if expecting no more and no less. "Even so, any help you provide us with is still greatly appreciated. Whatever the reason you choose to help."

"Yes, well," began the pokémon, turning herself around again, "just ensure you don't attract more danger before we can be rid of you."

Azure looked at Tarla, a little exhausted, and both shrugged to one another. They could see that the leader of the herd was quite justified, but at the same time, neither of them was looking forward to their treatment on the road out of Rumblerock Pass.

-ooo-

My grogginess revealed the world to me as how it had been before I fell unconscious. Immediately the beat of my wound pulsed in my ears and my brain pounded in protest against the injury. I groaned at the pain, extremely uncomfortable as I tried to shift. I realised with minor horror that I was pressing against the wound, and made an effort to roll over. I knew that it had probably acquired dirt and probably a number of other nasty things that weren't going to help in the time that I had gained it to where I was now, but that quickly escaped part of my notice as hurried chatter sounded nearby. I could hear the quiet murmuring of a pokémon, and whoever they were, they were nearby.

My head shooting up, I surveyed the area, only to spot a shadow in another passage a little ways down, where a tunnel veered off. The figure was causing her – by the sounds of it – shadow to appear and then disappear, and I came to the conclusion that she was pacing. It certainly wasn't the figure of a rhyhorn, or any of the other ground types, so I forced out a breath of air and took another, hoping it was one of the colony members.

"H-hey," I called, surprised at the weakness in my voice. I coughed unsteadily and felt my breath catch a few times, trying to gain a steadier flow before I tried again. "Hey!"

The shadow stopped and I could only see the head. Obviously the pokémon was surprised by my calling, and had immediately come to a halt at the sound of my voice. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Hello?" I coughed again. "I...I need help...!"

Slowly the shadow grew until a figure rounded the corner with it, her footsteps light and slow as she came into view. I was a little surprised how defensive she looked, but all wonder vanished as I noticed how battered she was. Her white skirt, which fanned out in separate sections to create an image that reminded me a little of an ivory flower, was dirtied and a little torn, while her legs were scattered with a few cuts. Her eyes looked positively worn, but what surprised me the most as the fact that she...was frightened. When I thought about it, the prospect wasn't peculiar at all, but the look in her eyes nearly frightened me. She looked...almost mad with fear and loss.

"Are you...okay?"

"You're the flareon," she stated, her voice shaky and small. "You got that injury."

I looked at her and cringed, trying not to show any pain as my body began aching from the odd position I had formed on the cavern floor. "And you are...?"

She continued to look at me, her head jolting in tiny, tiny movements in different directions, almost as if she were showing odd signs of coldness. "Rentana."

The kirlia twitched continuously, and for a moment I was sure she was about to burst into tears. Her blinking made me wonder if she had something in her eyes, but I figured that it could have been anything. "Are you...alright?"

"No," she told me immediately, the wavering in her voice a sure sign that she had diagnosed herself accurately. She tilted her head upwards but kept her eyes on me, as if she was restraining tears, and continued to watch me. "My mate was lost."

I gave a small frown, turning myself in a way that corrected my posture. "What...do you mean?" I asked slowly, sure that she couldn't have meant that he had died.

"We were separated," she said shakily. "I...was...separated from him. He is... I don't know...where he is."

I was a little shocked by her response, unable to fathom how such a thing could possibly put her in such a state. "But you...know we'll meet up with him later, right? Along with all the others, once we get to the surface?"

"If I pray," she began, swallowing her saliva as she focused somewhere else in the room, "maybe...maybe we'll return to one another."

My face twisted with some form of misunderstanding and confusion, and I stared at her with clouded eyes. I was rather confused how she was such a wreck, for the simple reason that she had been separated from someone. I nearly snorted in amusement; not even I had broken down so heavily when I had been separated from those I treasured, and I considered myself quite emotional.

I cringed, feeling another thump of pain from my wound. It made me tense and I remembered that it probably had dirt slip into it in the confusion of the steelix attack. With a small jolt, I realised that the granbull, whatever his name had been, was still fighting it...or, at least, that's what I assumed. The gigantic creature was frighteningly huge, and the fact that he was trapped in the same room as it was positively petrifying. With a sudden sickening feeling, I realised...he may not come out of that cavern. That may have been his last battle. His last breath. The odd thing was, he saved me at his expense, a pokémon he didn't even know. For all he knew, I could have been the one to doom Luck.

Turning to the kirlia in a small burst of anger, I shouted, "Pull yourself together!" Silence followed my order, and Rentana kept her eyes planted on mine, wavering with some sort of accompanying fear. All her fear was beginning to frustrate me; if she was capable of lasting on her own, then I would understand, but she seemed highly distracted and emotionally lost without this krinar. For a moment I wondered if she was under an attract spell or something. It wasn't uncommon for pokémon to know how to execute. "You can't base your entire emotional wellbeing on this guy. He's not your lifeblood."

Her eyes, firstly full of apprehension and soon transforming into muted rage, were beginning to eat at me. I was uncomfortable under her glare. "He is everything to me!" she hissed, her posture suddenly not slumping.

At first I was a little shocked, but when I realised what I had done, I cleared my throat and tried again. "He's just a male. You don't need a male to survive, you know."

"I need him to survive!" She seemed to writhe with frustration, as if I was missing something crucial.

"No—you need your heart and your head to survive. This guy needs his as well, not yours."

"We are different," she growled, referring to me and her.

"Yes. You're not the same pokémon, the same being, so why would you physically need him to live?" I questioned, still confused by the notion. As far as I knew, there would be no reason why a mated pokémon couldn't simultaneously be their own individual. I certainly had no intention of 'melding' myself with whoever I ended up mated with. Paired with that thought was the known possibility that I didn't even need a mate to survive. So unless my trainer wanted it, and in which case I would need to be pretty close to the male, I would have no reason to bear pups. It wasn't that I didn't want to; I just had no particular interest in it for now. I would have preferred to continue travelling with my trainer than anything. I forgot my momentary tangent and focused again on the kirlia. "Come on. Stop thinking about him for a while."

We stared at one another for a short while longer, contemplation mingled with pain layering her face as she slumped and downcast her crestfallen expression. "I..." she breathed, unable to finish what she had intended to tell me as she continued to rest her eyes upon the cavern floor.

Once I hobbled a few paces past her, I stopped, the wound in my side searing. I pretended to stop only out of concern, which was half the reason anyway, and turned my glance toward her bent body. "Come on," I repeated, softer this time. "We need to get moving." When that did nothing, I added, "...The sooner we escape here, the sooner you find your mate again." She responded to that, of course, rising and righting herself on her tip-toes. She still faced the other way, however. "What was his name again...?"

"Etire," she responded immediately, finally turning to meet me. When I saw her face, I was a little surprised. It was as if she had put on some kind of mask. She had concealed the emotion she previously showed, only to display a face of focused neutrality. I was a small amount concerned when I realised that I couldn't, in fact, make out any sort of emotion at all. She had completely sealed it off.

Making a small noise of acknowledgement, I turned back, pausing before I completely faced the direction leading out of the cave. Taking another step was surprisingly difficult, and I nearly buckled over at the shock of the sudden pain the wound caused. With an inward groan, I concluded that it was probably going to start bleeding again—if it even stopped, that was. I could feel dried, crusty blood on my belly and understood that there would probably be more by the time we stopped to rest again.

Exiting the cavern, the next room opened up into a small expanse of seemingly nothing, which quickly led us into the next one, which was similar but far larger. The room stretched on for an impressive time until another section joined up at the end. There was no small passage this time; the end of the room opened immediately up to another, the likes of which I couldn't properly see from so far away. Based on the fact that I couldn't make much out, I figured that it must have sloped upwards and past the opening, which wasn't as large as the room's width and which hung down a bit, blocking my view of the next room.

Figuring there was no way to find out but to continue, I took a hesitant step into the wide-open room. I was a little confused by the cavern's appearance, however, as the ceiling was lowered to create some kind of enclosed space. It was long and wide, but the confines of the room regarding height were not at all generous. I could comfortable stand and lift my ears without problem, but I knew that any pokémon twice my height would have had trouble standing upright.

Curiously I continued, head lowered in as my leg jerked in its awkward limp each step, and surveyed the surrounding area. I was almost expecting predators to leap out from nowhere, and as I continued, the almost inaudible sound of the kirlia's feet on rock following, I heard an unfamiliar groan. Wildly I whipped my head about, turning around, until I spotted a stray rhyhorn in the corner of the room which I hadn't noticed while passing through the entrance. The pokémon was waking, so I saw no sense in lowering my voice.

"RENTANA!" I shouted in shock, feeling my leg muscles tense, which involuntarily agitated my wound. "There's—look! It's a rhyhorn. What do we do?" I hissed, understanding that my condition was hardly one fit for battle, and hers, although weakened in a different way, was not a large amount better. As well as mentally, I knew she was physically worn as well. The shield she had erected and held earlier must have cost her a lot of her energy.

She looked to me casually, her eyes calm but a light frown of disapproval on her face. "Pull yourself together," she smirked sourly, and I recoiled a little, somewhat amused by the words which ricocheted back to strike me in the face, but also surprised. I hadn't expected her to be any kind of cheeky, and on top of that, I was left to assume that she had used them against me because the rhyhorn wasn't a threat. However, I was yet unsure.

"But he's—"

"Not the enemy," she assured, turning to him and approaching on light feet. "Up," she commanded, and he looked at her, a little wary before leaping to his hefty feet. His rocky armour clunked together as he did so, and with eyes of fear and alarm, he watched me unsteadily. "We won't attack you," she confirmed, and he continued to stare, completely sceptical of her claim.

"But...but you're—"

"No longer fighting the opposition," she interjected, and I raised an eyebrow in response. She was seemingly keen to interrupt those who were talking.

"Wait," I began, realising what she meant, "is he not part of Jaskore – or whatever his name is – ...his followers?"

The rhyhorn threw me a stern glare. "I am not," he growled. "I was just...wary. And..." He raised his gaze to Rentana, his eyes displaying sure signs of minor guilt and a little embarrassment. However, it was all shone through a stony face.

"Oh..." I began, nearly snorting in minor amusement. "You, uh...had a fall-in."

"I freaked out," the rhyhorn stated firmly, his voice hardened by embarrassment and the need to defend himself.

"Hey, hey, I get it," I began, a grin on my face as I closed my eyes and turned away, half-tail swaying. I could only imagine his face. "We all make mistakes."

He only snorted in response. I understood. He didn't want to be disturbed. He was a lone mightyena, and I was fine with that. As well as that, I was mocking him, but I dismissed the thought and looked to the other end of the room. I was still deciding what I thought about its massive extent...it wasn't that large, but it would take at least a few minutes to reach the other side. I was unsure if it meant more room for freedom and more area for space around us in case we were ambushed, or whether the space was a bad thing. If we were ambushed, they could surround us with ease. It was a rather uncomfortable thought and I tried not to think of it. There were no tunnels along the walls...or very few, anyway, and although I imagined they could probably work as perfect routes for a sneak attack, I also knew that I was aware, and if it had to come to that...I could always use my flamethrower. I tried to ignore the fact that fire was weak to rock types and spending energy of any kind may have led me to even more pain.

I turned to the kirlia. "We going?" I questioned.

"Yes," she answered immediately, gracefully stroking past the rhyhorn. She proceeded without me as I stilled myself and eyed the rock and ground pokémon. He was evidently uncomfortable with it.

"What've you got to do?"

"Uhh...nothing?" he answered, and I gave a few nods.

"Well...do you wanna come with us?" In all honesty, I had my and the kirlia's best interests at heart, since a rhyhorn would be far more likely to be able to repel any enemies, and he looked to be in a fitter state than both me and the psychic type fused.

The question caught him off guard and he remained still for a moment, the kirlia pausing to turn to him, probably interested in his answer. "No."

My face turned sour. "What? Why not?" Giving him a judgemental sneer, I added, "What, you got something better to do?" I nodded in an upwards motion to the wall behind him. "Like talkin' to that wall?"

"Don't mock me," he threatened, and at the words, I just sighed.

"Well, come on. You don't have a reason."

He narrowed his eyes. "You just want me for protection."

"You know what?" I began, exhaling again and giving my head a light shake. "I don't have the time or patience for this." I whirled around and began walking up the cave again. I did not have any interest in more talk. Sure, I was a talkative flareon, but when that was all I'd heard – bicker and chatter – for the past while, beginning when I woke that day because of that stupid houndoom, I was positively sick of it. I wanted action and progress, not another argument. Zaion had explained to me that while I was asleep, the rhyhorn's herd had split in two – a party following the original leader and a party following a rebel who disagreed with the leader – just when things were looking like they could lead to peace. I didn't witness it, of course, but the thought that we were nearly free of the tedious battle, only to wind up with a larger problem in our paws, was frustrating beyond compare. I just wanted to be rid of these caves and back on the surface so we could hurry up and find that base.

I was halfway up the room when I turned around to view the position of the other two. The kirlia had dropped behind and began conversing quietly with the rhyhorn while my thoughts were busy having a discussion with me. I turned back, head casually low as I walked, and very subtly edged my head to the right so one of my eyes was spying the rhyhorn, who, watching me carefully, began to trudge a little faster. I flicked back, wondering if he was, in fact, following us, or if he was simply progressing in the same direction we happened to be going because there was no other path. I watched as he passed by the few tunnels lining the walls, glancing warily left and right, and my mind told me he was less than interested in veering off and disappearing down them. I understood: fear of the unknown. I too preferred to carry on in the direction of a room I could actually see.

I slowed my pace so the kirlia would have a chance to catch up much faster – or that would have been my excuse if she asked how my wound was doing – and soon enough she was but a few metres behind me, the rhyhorn a little closer in distance to her. However, I arrived at the entrance to the next room before she met up with me, and, slowing to a stop, I realised that I had been right—it did slope up, although at a rounded angle, rather than a straight slant.

I surveyed the room from where I was, noting the many rising pillars around me. The entire room was riddled with giant ledges and carved cliffs rising from the ground at great angles, although there were only a few of them. Mostly the rock formations rose far above where I could reach, either a square shape at the top, and therefore easy to stand on, or looked to be lumpy and difficult to grasp. I clenched my jaws, feeling the effects of my wound after the walk as I stood still and could unintentionally spare focus for it.

"Well that...looks like a climb," I commented, wondering where on earth I was meant to begin. With a wary face, the kirlia cast a solemn glance across the room, displaying subtle signs of caution and, I could see, some kind of hopelessness. I wondered why she was acting that way, especially considering she was able to teleport herself, but when I noticed the rhyhorn lumber up beside us, I understood. She was worried the rock type wouldn't be capable of scaling the oversized ledges and pillars. When I thought about it, I had similar trouble envisioning how he would climb, and wondered what he would be made to do. I turned to him, trying to find some solution in my mind. It was in our best interest that the protector made it through as well as the protected. "Maybe...there's another way through?" I asked sheepishly, hoping that he would suddenly reflect my hope with strength I couldn't find.

He remained silent as he absorbed the scene. He didn't seem nearly as dismayed as Rentana. "I hope you didn't underestimate my ability to climb rock," he grunted, and with a flicker of minor surprise, the psychic type and I glanced to each other with cocked heads. He didn't say anything for a small amount of time, as if expecting us to consider his statement, and then become suddenly knowledgeable about what he was talking about. I watched as he emitted a sigh. "This is what I'm used to. I live in a rocky place. There are high-sailing structures like these all over the place that I have to find my way up." He eyed one of them. "It's not uncommon for rhyhorn to know how to climb."

"Ooh," I began as I looked to the same formation his gaze was set upon, clicking, "I get it now."

Rentana hesitantly took the first few steps into the room and craned her neck slowly, as if the rectangular pillar before her was some monstrosity she was required to conquer...and then I realised that it was. "There are large gaps between those formations. You cannot leap across," she affirmed. We both looked to her questioningly, and I noted she was right.

I doubted that even I could leap across some of the spaces, and it was obvious that we needed to ascend most of the rocks to reach the entrance to the next room, which sat far above in the wall, a ledge before it. I suddenly wondered to myself how the surface hadn't yet begun, and wondered if we were perhaps...underneath the mountains already.

"I will find my way through," the rhyhorn told her, and although she showed no sign of protest she, like me, was probably sceptical of his comment.

The kirlia lowered her head and faced him. "Even so," she began, "the path won't be an easy one."

-ooo-

After trying to find a way to get back into the room they had been previously in, Zaion had given up with a growling huff and figured that the rest of his company was probably separated as he was, and probably just as lost, and would all be making their ways through the tunnels with the hope of reaching the end. He knew that they should have been close to the mountains, so emerging from them would be ideal, for once they were out, they could use their closeness to their advantage and arrive as quickly as they could.

He glanced to the quagsire beside him, eying him with particular interest as he wondered what exactly inhibited the pokémon's ability to accurately communicate. It seemed, for the most part, his brain worked cognitively, but his emotional side was not well adjusted. He had considered that perhaps the quagsire was simply not an emotional pokémon, but readjusted his thinking and concluded that it wasn't that he simply lacked enough emotion...it was that he seemed physically unable to properly express it. The thought of his emotions being suppressed in such a manner frightened him, although it would be all the quagsire knew. He probably never had much emotion in the first place to be taken away. He also wondered how many summers or winters old he was. It was peculiar that he couldn't tell, but shrugged it off, making an attempt to stop focusing on his travelling companion and start focusing on the travelling itself.

"I'm fairly certain you can understand me, quagsire... Do you have any idea where we are?" he wondered curiously, throwing his head left and right as he examined rough walls with no sign of veering off. He could see another room up ahead, but still, he was extremely curious.

The water and ground type said nothing – he didn't even look at the houndoom – until they reached the room, where he turned his head to shine his big, dopey smile at the fire and dark type. "Quagsire," he mentioned, beginning to wag his tail. Zaion blinked peculiarly, unintentionally analysing his tail and suddenly finding that it must have been useful for many things—from a swimming aide to a handy tool in battle. He compared it with his tail, and although he had always liked the fact that it was slim and easy to keep track of, he wished it did more things.

They emerged into a room that, to both of their surprises, dropped immediately downwards several metres, the part they came out onto evidently some kind of strong ledge. The houndoom was quite happy to have been saved an immediate drop, and they would have had to remain at the mouth of the hallway as simple onlookers. He surveyed the area, noting that there was a giant lake in the centre of the room. The cavern itself wasn't overly large, and estimated that he could probably run along the length of the ledge – which they had emerged onto the middle of – in five seconds per way, totalling a ten second stretch from wall to wall. However, this was only the width of the room, and he guessed that the distance from his side to the other side was at least twice that, if not a little more.

He cringed at the thought of water; he didn't mind it that much, but he preferred to steer clear of it. It wasn't something he enjoyed bathing in, but would if it was necessary. The feel of it simply reminded him of the attacks that water types used on him when they thought they had a hope of winning. Nevertheless, the thought of the feeling remained, but he was sure that he would have no trouble crossing it if they could get down from the ledge.

His first task was to see if there was a way to descend the ledge and end on the bottom floor, as there was no other way to continue, and gave a sigh. He figured that his counterpart would probably not be able to provide them with anything substantial, and began his quest to find a way down.

It didn't take him long, however, and soon he and the quagsire were before the lake. With another inward groan, the houndoom watched as the quagsire simply fell into the water and slipped beneath the surface. If it weren't for the subtle change in the pokémon's disposition as soon as he hit the water, he thought he might have fallen in unintentionally, or with the inconvenience of being paralysed as he entered. He was relieved when the pokémon broke the surface and began to swim around happily; the thought of having to rescue a pokémon his size when the houndoom's swimming skills weren't exactly top notch was a little worrying.

He tested the water with two toes, cringing as he slipped the rest of himself in, a little surprised as the floor suddenly dropped and his front paws shot down into nothing but water. He began to drift as he paddled, his back legs dislodging from the floor unintentionally as he swayed and bent his legs in turn, nearly faltering a few times as he quickly sneered and began to swim to the other side. It was an effort, but he was able to make it to the other side without much fuss.

The quagsire swam about, diving in and out of water and splashing about as if water was his favourite thing in the world—which Zaion wouldn't have doubted anyway. Upon reaching land, the fire and dark type shook off and searched for somewhere he could blow his fire and keep it burning so he could dry himself. Instead he attempted to heat his body's temperature.

In the middle of doing so, he looked around, spotting his companion still dipping through the lake. For a moment he was fearful that something would pop out and swallow the quagsire up, but he realised that the lake was far too small to carry something that big. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Splash," he called, "are you done?"

There was barely a response as the pokémon only paid him a small amount of notice between his dips and turns in the water, and for a while he didn't rise again. It was then that Zaion feared something may have gone wrong, but when his head appeared again, thankfully still attached to his body, he could reassure himself. Perhaps the quagsire knew the depth of the smallish lake and was sure nothing lay at its bottom. If he were to ask, however, he knew he would get an incoherent response if a response at all.

"Come on," the houndoom commanded, motioning with his head for the pokémon to follow. "We need to find the others." He began walking away, pretending he didn't care at all for the dual type pokémon, and continued through an opening in the wall that led to the next cavern.

Upon popping out, the houndoom was semi-surprised to find himself in a wide open space that had a floor riddled with stalagmites everywhere he looked. The most peculiar thing was that some towered over him at more than twice his height, but most of them were either a little taller than him or somewhat smaller. What confused him a little was their frequency; each were only a few paces from each other, forming a sort of maze. The thought itself was hindering, as he knew he would have to navigate with his mind instead of his eyes. However, he did have the advantage of smell on his side, which he decided he would prominently use.

Voices made him instantly freeze. At first he was lost for direction and identification of the voices, but as he stood, surrounded by the protruding rock formations at the entrance to the cavern, he could hear them nearing. He deduced that they were echoing from his left, and figured there must have been another opening in that general direction. He didn't dare approach, however, as he continued to hear the nearing voices. He glanced around to the quagsire, who had pulled himself out of the water moments ago and shook off, and glared at him with wide eyes. Warily he crept away from the entrance and hissed a warning.

The quagsire approached the opening with the houndoom and stopped to listen. Zaion was well aware that the quagsire was taller than him and would likely outmatch a good number of the stalagmites in height, and clenched his jaws in anxiousness as he wondered if he would soon be sighted. Yet, when the voices continued and the quagsire emerged into the room in a leisurely pursuit of the sounds, he knew that it wasn't involuntary sightings that he had to be worried about.

"Hey!" he hissed, lowering his head. His shoulders came up beside his jaws. "Quagsire, stop! What are you doing?"

Despite the calls from the houndoom, the ground and water type pokémon didn't stop at all. He didn't even turn around as he began to effortlessly and loosely navigate his way through the crowd of stalagmites. Angrily Zaion thought to turn away and shoot back the way they came, or fling off to the right, but he knew that both options were not exactly ideal. Besides, even if he was the one instigating the trouble, he didn't want to leave Splash alone. If he met with those pokémon, they would surely find a reason to attack him, especially if they were on the traitor rhyhorn's side. On top of that was the fact that his fire type moves would do nothing to a rock type's armoured hide, whereas Splash's water was a more than suitable means of attack.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes closed while his body very slowly leaned in a few directions before he gave in with an inward sigh and began sneaking after him, his leg motions fluid and somewhat awkward in order to keep him low. At the same time, he gauged how far away the pokémon speaking were and used it to judge how much he should project his voice to the quagsire. "Come on, buddy. You have to stop," he insisted. When the quagsire still didn't listen, he thought of something else. "If they're rock and ground types then..." He trailed off, understanding that the quagsire had a type advantage in two areas, but feared that a type advantage alone wasn't going to save their hide.

Deciding it was still best to convince him to retreat, he hurriedly captured a few more paces and calculated the action before latching onto the creature's tail. Even though he ensured that his bite wasn't hard, the quagsire suddenly yelped and swung around, taking the houndoom with him for a short period before the tail passed a stalagmite and the houndoom's side slammed into it. He dropped like a bundle of slaughtered prey, and it was in that moment that he thought not about pain, but about accidentally attracting the unwelcome visitors.

Instantly the pokémon froze in their tracks and questioned the noises. They, just as he had expected, raced along the ground, the harsh thud of rock on rock as they powered their way, certain to appear from within a few stalagmites and begin to tear the place apart in rage. He groaned and lifted himself to his feet just as a silver rocky creature came into view, revealing itself to be a rhyhorn, just as he had expected. The creature turned her enormous head upon the sturdy shoulders towards them and stood still, surveying them over a few times. Zaion was convinced she was about to charge, but was surprised when the quagsire suddenly began to wag his tail.

Zaion watched as Splash weaved through the stalagmites loosely and came upon the rhyhorn, stopping before her and remaining still as his tail still swished. It wasn't long till, to his surprise, a familiar face hobbled into view, rather aghast at what he saw. He looked first to Splash and then to Zaion, and they frowned at one another before the houndoom started nodding his head slowly and began to approach.

"Although I don't know you well," the fire type started, eyes on the white and green pokémon, "it's good to see you here."

"You too," the krinar responded, more shocked than anything. He let his surprise fade as he introduced the rhyhorn, whose name was Maka, to his fellow colony member and the houndoom, who he had only seen around on occasion. Maka nodded to each, briefly explaining her course of action: to lead Etire out and find her way back to her clan. "Always good to come across someone who's on your side," the psychic and fighting type chuckled, and Zaion nodded slowly.

Expressing his response, the quagsire took a few steps before enveloping the injured Usster pokémon in a strong embrace. The krinar made small sounds of protest as Splash hugged him, but it soon wore off, and the pokémon was once again freed.

"I suggest we keep moving," the rhyhorn announced, swinging her head toward the other end of the room. It passed the wide opening in the wall that Zaion and Splash had come from and looked to rise with a few complicated ledges they would need to scale, but overall Zaion figured it made sense. If they been travelling to the left from the entrance, he would have been confused and objected, but considering that, emerging from where he had been, the trail continued on his right, all made sense in his mind.

While they passed the opening from which Zaion and Etire had come, the houndoom was quick to mention the lake, in case either of them needed a drink, so they took a small break to drink before Etire dipped himself in, keen to wash off any blood and cool any burning wound he may have still been suffering. When Maka questioned the lake's random appearance, Zaion remarked, "I think it travels from some small hole in the wall hidden under the surface or something. One that would be big enough for it to flow through."

"Well...what if the hole is big enough to fit through?" Etire asked, wading calmly into the water. Splash dipped in and out around him, constantly popping up. "Maybe it'll take us to where we need to go. I mean, it would have to come from the surface, right?"

Maka and Zaion looked to each other with hardened hesitation. Both glanced distastefully to the water and resisted, each taking a step back or leaning away from it. "I'm...happy to follow in its general direction on land," the rhyhorn confirmed. "Besides, I'll sink in water. Many of my kind...have died by falling into lakes and deep rivers." The others stared at her with relative horror, except Splash, who continued to obliviously dip in and out. "Well...oceans not so much for two reasons; the first being that salt makes us much lighter, not that it prevents us from dropping straight to the floor anyway, and the second that no rhyhorn would want to live near one. That's not where these formations generally are." She angled her head and surveyed the room.

"And I thought I had it bad," the houndoom remarked, giving a light chuckle that was more nervous than anything else.

"Ah...yes," the krinar simply responded, then, in the middle of keeping himself afloat, turned around to the pokémon whose attention seemed to be focused completely elsewhere. "I guess he would have told us if there was an underwater path we could follow." He looked up, catching Zaion's raised brow and eyes with eyelids halfway down. Etire was unsure what he was making the face for before he shook his head quickly, as if remembering something, and corrected himself. "Well, you know; not told us 'told us,' just...told us. With arms. And...grunts."

"Grunts," the houndoom repeated with a strong tinge of amusement that was close to mockery.

Etire scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean!"

"Uh...I'm not getting any of this," the rhyhorn interjected, unintentionally excluded.

"He doesn't talk," Etire clarified, deciding it was time he emerged. As he began to wave himself towards the edge of the lake, Splash rose from behind him, his large, goofy smile plastered to his wet face.

"Quaaaaag!" he gurgled, flecks of water jumping about at the back of his big mouth.

The rhyhorn cringed with amusement and gave a small chuckle. "I think he's adorable."

Etire made a noise of clear disagreement mingled with distaste as he placed his arms carefully on the rocky ground. "Yes, that's the term the females use."

"What's wrong with it?" she asked.

"Nothing," Etire snorted in amusement, not looking at her as he hauled himself up into a seated position. "It's just what the females use."

Zaion chuckled with agreeing amusement as they both looked to one another while Maka stood, a little confused by the whole thing. The rhyhorn only released a sigh.

-ooo-

"So far she hasn't commanded us to do anything," Azure uttered, prowling beside Tarla as she directed one eye to the rhyhorn behind her. She kept her head low and only angled it just so, and knew it wasn't enough to be seen by her target.

Tarla too turned her head with her elongated neck, proceeding to bend over and 'preen' a cloudy feather or two before returning to normal, under the impression that keeping a watchful eye was a wise choice in such a circumstance.

"Is that not fair?" they heard from Thunderquake, who was discussing matters with a few of her fellow rock and ground types. A few from the passage the two had passed through before meeting with the rhyhorn herd's leader had emerged and pledged their allegiance to the rightful leader, as they referred to her as, while many of them remained behind. Tarla assumed they were either gathering their strength and waiting for a suitable time to attack, or they were simply reluctant to move on when the one they betrayed was so near...as well as some of her followers and, more importantly, an ice type.

Azure had offered to seal the tunnel with ice, but Thunderquake declined her offer for two reasons: one being that she was reluctant to anger the issue even further and demonstrate that she harboured no true dignity, and second that a block or sheet of ice would be useless against their heavy bulks. They would be able to shatter through it with a number of tries, depending on how thick the ice was. Azure was a little sour at the notion that her ice was hardly effective; Tarla understood her frustration as she continually glanced at her crippled wing and sighed, wondering how long it would take to heal. She hoped it was only bruising and a sprain, rather than a snapped bone. Aemara could tell her when they returned, but she resenting having to wait so long.

It wasn't long before they came upon another wider cavern. It was painfully dark, and the duo, entering first, were required to wait as they stared into the inky depths of the room until details they hadn't previously been able to detect smudged into existence. It was fairly large and although the ground up ahead was exceptionally dark and there was some eerie chill about the place, the altaria swallowed her apprehension and strode forward, the glaceon tentatively following.

It was only because there was rush of air that shot from the ground and blew back her feathers did the altaria stop, angling her head away as she grimaced in distaste. Azure, barely paying attention, bumped into her from behind and jumped instantly away before she realised it was only Tarla. However, before the glaceon could question her friend's actions, she paused and blinked several times. In the minimal light, she could make out only ground...which then disappeared.

Curiously she wandered up to the edge, where the ground seemingly disappeared, and rolled her paw pad on the edge. She slipped her paw slowly downwards as she leaned, bending her back legs and applying the most amount of body weight she could on them to ensure that she wouldn't topple over forward and fall down into what appeared to be some kind of...nothing. The ground had been removed. With a rush of alarm, she realised that it was an absolute drop down to someplace far, far below.

"Tarla..." she began, her voice a little weaker than she hoped for it to be. "Don't...move..."

A zap of shivers suddenly scaled her back as she ceased all movement but the frantic beating of her heart and her curious eyes, which rolled toward the glaceon, chancing movement with her head to face her. "Wh...why?"

"Put your foot out. But don't put weight on it," the smaller of the two commanded, hearing voices from the cavern they had just been.

Extending her leg, the altaria began to stretch out, running her foot along the rough ground before there was something that felt like an edge. She quickly confirmed her assumption that the ground suddenly vanished. "A chasm?"

"One that extends across both sides of the cavern," the glaceon confirmed, referring to the walls on the left and right. She stared down below, shooting tiny bullets of ice without particular force. They plunged into the darkness and vanished. Not a single sound of shattering managed to reach their ears as they waited in silence before flashing looks of alarm, which were hardly visible in the blackness, to one another. Azure bounded off to her right, travelling alongside the chasm but ensuring she was at least a few paces from it before stopping once the wall came into her face. She turned toward the abyss and, unable to see to the other side of the empty space, squashed her cheek against the cold, stony wall before she fired more ice shards. She watched them travel with the wall for a time before they lost momentum and sunk, also disappearing without a sound to follow.

In her amazement, the altaria hardly realised she was so close as she moved to the edge and peered down, unable to make anything out. Her foot edged closer to the cliff, and she reached down, wondering if there was a ledge just below ground level, but realised she was wrong. In the midst of her awkward position, she suddenly jerked, the pain from her wing pulsing to life as she angled it awkwardly while distracted. The abrupt movement stole her balance and the altaria shrieked as she instantly filled with dread.

Before she panicked, the pokémon broadened her wings and beat the air, sure she could easily overcome any kind of drop before her bad wing cried out with a splitting pain and she roared in agony, realising with horror that it left her to fall. In the split second that she began to fall, her foot about to lose any connection it had with the floor, impossibility flashed through her mind. She was a flying type, and she was condemned to fall to her death. It was both inglorious and frightening, as she knew not how far she would be falling at all. The sense of fear was far greater than anything she had ever felt, terrified she had been denied the precious wings that had always given her security. For a flying type to fall to their death was the most shameful death of all.

Suddenly her foot felt as if it had caught aflame as it halted in place, when her bad wing simultaneously fired up with a painful sensation as it was pulled and tugged, the altaria ready to struggle against whatever caused it. Despite the strength of the pain and the extreme discomfort it caused her, she realised that it had stopped her from falling. She couldn't move her foot either, and as the searing iciness began to shoot up her leg, she realised that it was, in fact, ice.

"FLAP!" screeched the glaceon, her mouth full with feathers as she applied all her weight to her back legs, leaning back and resisting against Tarla's mass. In spite of her desperate attempts, she quickly began to slip toward her. It wasn't enough.

A flock of thoughts soared through the dual type's mind before she realised her comrade was referring to her good wing, which was under her, and furiously and frantically she began to force the air under it to retreat and return, elevating her as a result. With a burst of a realisation that it was working, she ignored the pain in her wing as best she could, cringing as she worked her wing even harder. Finally she was upright again, but with a feeling of fright, discovered that she couldn't actually move out of the way of the cliff given that her foot was trapped in ice. Azure still gripping her bad wing, the altaria, although in a blubber of pain and discomfort, bent over and drilled her beak repeatedly, shattering enough ice to slip her foot out from her ankle.

The two flew backwards, tumbling on the floor and halting in a tangled heap. Tarla was more in shock and fear than anything as she and her friend heaved with the effort, and remained there until Azure helped herself up, her breathing steadying again. "I told you...not to put your weight—"

"That's not how it happened," Tarla snapped, and Azure guessed she was more intent on nursing her pride than her wing. She was not to know, however, as the altaria rose and allowed the wing to drape over one side and meet with the floor. After a moment more of silence, she looked to the glaceon. "...Thank you for...saving me."

Azure looked back, studying the altaria's face as she detected streams of draining fear. "It's...fine," she responded, looking away. Both pokémon laid their eyes on the horror that the absence of light had made all the more dangerous and inhaled deeply. Tarla strongly regretted her foolishness while Azure tried to convince herself that she was not to blame for encouraging the pokémon to do such a thing, but the two did not speak of either matter.

"We'll have to warn the rhyhorn about this," Tarla concluded, and the glaceon shook her head, even if in agreement.

"Yeah, but...even if we tell them to steer clear from it...how do we cross it?"

The question repeatedly rang in both pokémon's minds. There was obvious there was no bridge from their side to the other, and without Tarla's ability to fly, not even she was capable of crossing. As far as they could tell, the question had no answer.