I stared. I stare deeply into it. Its tiny perforations,its redness, its dark flesh. Should I cut it in half, save some for later? Or should I go all in now? I stare at it, seeking for an answer, but from it comes naught. All it could do, as I held it in my clammy grasp was stare back at me, wordlessly, as if asking me in a Socratic fashion, "What do you think?" Indeed, what do I think?

"I think you should just shove it in your mouth!" Roared out from behind, a heavy hand landing on the small of my back. It caused me to jump and my only meal for the day slipped out of my hand, that magnificent BLT, straight into the icy depths below, only to bob back up for a second before being snatched up by a Buizel that lived nearby. It waved my sandwich at me, smiling cheek to cheek, then dipped back down. There was my answer of what I thought, nihil. Not in my belly, not in my hand. Certainly not for later. "Uhh... Sorry 'bout the sandwich there Vince. I'll get you a new one?"

I turned round to the culprit of my loss. A great, burly, stumbling fella sporting a lumberjack beard, with the plaid to match. Jim's face wretched in turmoil for having caused such an unfortunate accident. I put a hand on his large arm, and he ceased his stammering, and answered, "Yes please." He guffawed, holding his belly tightly, then smacking me hard in the back again.

"Oh that's a good one!" I look at him, giving him the stink eye, but he paid no mind.

"At any rate, what's up? Not many people stare at food as wistfully as you did. Something eating you up?"

As I raised a finger, about to explain the titillating world of cost-benefit analysis, where I was measuring my marginal costs and benefits of eating it now compared to saving some for later, as well as of BLT Socrates, Jim began shaking his arms up and down like a little schoolgirl who got her hands on the juiciest of scoops. He even squealed at a pitch so high that I wasn't even aware a man of his stature could make. He seemed to have made his own conclusion, and so, I shut my mouth up, finger shriveling back down. The persistent scowl on my face morphing into a deeper frown. I was not going to like the tangent that he was about to go on.

"You fell in love with a girl haven't you! Who is it? Who is it?"

I opened my mouth for a split, but closed it back down when I saw he wasn't done. Jim was still going on about possible matches, so, I decided to zone him out for a bit, and think about better things. Like what sandwich I'll get him to buy me. It won't be too expensive, after all, he is about as poor as me. It will be more filling though. Yes, sandwich. I checked back on him to see if he was done yet, but right now, he was just listing off girls. Em? Nah, she scared me. Candice? I only knew she was the local gym leader. Old flame from back home? I flinched hard at that, enough to call attention from Jim.

"I'm. So. Sorry. Ididn'tmeananythingfromthat I'msosorry!"

"Nah mate. It's just the mention of home. I haven't got a girl back home." I soften my frown and tried to pat him reassuringly. Yeah, I miss home a lot, but I'm here.

"But you were thinking of a girl just now weren't you?" I roll my eyes at him and carried on, back to the deli. I'm not ready to date right now. I haven't even got food on my plate, so to date would be frivolous. There also aren't any ladies around that I would consider seriously. None that has caught my eye. Made me swoon and sigh. That was when my imaginations drifted to a little fluff ball of death. Her performance took my breath away, and while her song was not traditionally beautiful, I did catch myself giggle and hum together with it last night. I chuckled underneath my breath, which gained a puppy-eyed look from Jim. I remarked back to him, "Oh chuff off."

"I've struck a nerve there haven't I!" He guffawed, hanging his lumbering arms upon my shoulders. "Fine, fine, I'll lay off. At any rate, have you seen my axe? It isn't underneath my bed anymore."

To this, my calf tensed up. I had to quickly school my expression and keep moving at a steady pace. Any sign of hesitance or surprise could incriminate me. Not that I've done anything criminal. Just loaning a personal effect without permission is all. Was going to hand it back straight away too. "No sir, n-not at all. I'm s-sure you get it right? Once you've stopped looking for it, bloody thing will just magic itself up out of nowhere!"

He looked over to me with appraising eyes. I grin toothily, attempting to get him off my back. I can't have done anything to throw him a bone. My face was natural, voice was spirit leveled, I wasn't touching my face or nothing! After looking me over a bit, he shifted his attention back onto the road, and reverted to his carefree self, saying, "I guess. Just tell me if it turns up alright?"

I nodded, sighing internally. Luckily, Jim was as trusting as they come. I need to get that axe no matter what by sunrise. I owe it to him really. Also, I would not want to see how angry Jim could get.


Finding my way back was simple. There was not a cloud in the sky and the full moon was out, its majesty illuminating the forest. I didn't even need the dumb lantern. The snow was falling steadily, but not heavily. The carnage left over from yesterday's chase certainly helped some too. It took no time at all before I saw her, pristine as the day I left her. The conifer that I could never have, and with that, the money that won't ever land into my grubby hands. The axe was right there, laying on the gnarled root. It gleamed in the moonlight, seducing me closer. It spoke to me in a the tone of a musical saw, "I can't chop trees by myself!" Its right, it can't, and that pine over there really looks right for the chopping.

I picked up Jim's axe, turning it over in my hands, feeling its heft and weight, just right for chopping that tree in the middle. I eye it up, stalking my prey, inching closer to it, raising the axe slowly till it was above my head. I was halfway to the tree, anticipating the sound of metal on wood, when I heard the distinct cry of a Sneasel. It sent me into a flurry straight back into the forest, away from open ground. I peered over, checking to see if that Sneasel had come back to finish the job, but instead, I was treated to the sight of a small group of 3 Sneasels, two female and a male, running for the cover as the snow was struck with great force, covering the group in a heavy blanket. A cold wind blew through, bringing with it shimmering flakes that obscured my vision, and likely theirs. Then, a small shadow sauntered from within the snow cover, and I could immediately tell. Those Sneasel weren't running from a Froslass, but an extremely theatric Sneasel. She waltzed out from the cover to show her terribly peeved face. The male in the group blew off the blanket from them, and snarled at my Sneasel, which for conveniences sake, will now be named Angry McGrumpface. Angry McGrumpface did not take his shit, and punched him straight in the nozzle. Not even a move or anything, just unceremoniously plonked him. The two females raised a claw against McGrumpface, to which she rolled forwards and made them fly with an icy wind. The male, once finding himself alone, scurried towards where the two females had flown off to, snarling all sorts at McGrumpface, what I can imagine to be insults to her ancestry. Angry simply glared at him, the same way she glared at me, sending him running.

I realised how her talents in the arts lent themselves to her battle prowess, or perhaps it was the other way round. In other words, Angry was a terror, and a terror that I would rather not encounter for the second night in a row. I backtracked slowly, trying to be as silent as an assassin, when I heard a tiny sniffle. I came back the edge of the clearing to take a peek at Angry, and there, underneath that tree, she was she was sniffling, wiping furiously at her eyes. Her scowl that drew shivers from me, was turned to a frown that squished my stomach, twisting a knife in it, which sincerely pissed me off. She was meant to be an unholy slayer of all things, not an actual being with feelings and complexity. I had to make it stop, and I only knew one way. I put down the axe, and with grim face, I stepped out into the clearing, standing tall.

There was an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me, back home, and it was one she sang whenever I cried. It made me stop all the time, because she always ended up crying when she sung it, and I hated seeing her do that. She was a woman of unadulterated rage at times, and definitely wore the pants in my family, so I hated to see her cry. Out there, with only me and the Sneasel, I sang that song.

The Sneasel ceased her sniffling, turning around to face me, eyes wide with shock. He wide, expressive peepers, still glistening from the tears, and a tad red, stopped to stare at what was likely the most terrible thing she lay her eyes on. A dirty vagrant with a nigh unbearable voice. It got her to stop crying though, and that was enough for me. I cleared my throat, and made my way back to the axe, having enough of this self-inflicted embarrassment.

"Grraaogh..." She moaned. Her claw caught onto my pants. I faced her, about to growl at her back, to lay off and scram, but I lost heart to do it when her waterworks started up again.

"Grraaogh..." She moaned again, tugging listlessly at my leg. I had no choice but to continue the lullaby, all the way till she fell asleep. I was certain she would not cry any longer from here on out, and thus, picked her up and left her under the tree. I headed back, forcing myself to not look back.