Despite the image of the guild on the outside, its members couldn't be bothered to make use of the absurd number of books its library had amassed. It wasn't the average guildie's job to read them anyways, they had Froslass. As the resident ghost, she was the only pokemon in this guild with enough time to thumb through every fairytale and logbook adventurers throw onto their hoard. Theoretically with all the knowledge she has; if she was ever put on a bounty she might just outright wipe out all crime on the Dusk Continent. They'll truly never know if she's secretly a masterful adventurer because she's way too comfortable where she is, freely perusing the guild's trove of books.

Leon would do a lot to be in a position like her's. It had all the dividends one could ask for: she wasn't pressed for time, no danger to speak of except for the occasional freak accident, and a whole space to call her own. It sure beats working around the clock to turn in criminals or find pokemon who've fallen into caverns. There were a lot less ways organizing a ton of papers can go wrong, it probably paid better too. No one else can do this job better than the pokemon who has been doing so since day one and on none of those days did he hear her once speak about her cut from the guild's adventures. So it's either access to everything here's payment enough for her or she's got huge stacks of coins hidden somewhere no one's ever going to find. It's likely the latter.

There's a one shelf in the middle of the library where all their covers have frayed, where every book is crammed with hundreds of bookmarks. Every hand in the guild has dissected them since the moment they were put here, and many more will. The dismal display shel houses everything important to the adventurer: quick references on applications for berries; methods of handling troublesome pokemon; threadbare knowledge about the world's strangest places (because relying on elaborate prose mid-dungeon was proven to be the end of adventures prior); and visual guides an utter newbie can follow. These were the ones which mattered. The rest of the library may well not exist.

Part of the bonuses included with being in the Scholar's Guild was unfettered access to the archive anytime of the week - provided it wasn't past ten. With nothing else to do at this moment, Leon and a belligerent Roserade hit the books. It was Leon who browsed the shelf of guild go-to's while Roserade sat nearby with his arms crossed.

A primer on dungeon tools called to Leon this afternoon. The frayed pages and water damage suggest someone has brought onto the field without Froslass knowing. The particular page was all about how to organize one's pack. It goes on about which items should be placed at the top, what others should be carried on the person rather than inside a satchel. All things he should know already but he's yet to put to use on a guild job. The break in had taken some of their wine and it invited an unease into the guild which was never there before. What's in these pages will help him when his time comes.

As Leon turns to the next page, Roserade speaks.

"What do you think, Leon? A week, a month?"

He thumbs through the top of the book, and drags out a loose paper used as a bookmark. Leon slides it to where he left off, closes the book, then slides back with the rest of its friends. He turns around.

"You aren't one to make bets."

"I'm not." Roserade sighs, "Let me rephrase: I just want to know how long you think Guildmaster's gonna keep those new bloods in here. It's not like him to allow any ordinary idiot into our guild, especially those who show up to our doors at dead-'o'clock moments after a break in."

"Don't you find this unusual, suspicious even?"

It was convenient, yes. Suspicious? Not as much as Roserade thinks it all is. If there's anyone who's trying to screw over the guild, it's not going to be the suck-up from downtown who has spent the last few months of his life trying to get in their door. A process involving throwing down some coin into the guild.. The answer as to why they were allowed in here - which is the real question Roserade is trying to ask - is pretty darned obvious the second anyone looks at the bigger not-so-newbie.

Now, how does he break the news?

"Prinn can be much, but I think Guildmaster was probably about to bring him on board anyways. I don't care if he skipped a few steps, if he's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried, it's the Braviary. Why bring him in?"

"It could be because he's the first Pokemon with a badge to have any remote interest in our guild. Him and Prinn are a package it looks like - can't have one without the other."

It was understood adventurers worked in pairs, sometimes trios. Parties any bigger than four were a rare case. It's generally understood they worked better, and safer this way. Leon can't speak as to how long Braviary has been with Prinn. They claim they've been together for "as long as they've known each other", whatever that's supposed to mean.

"He has a badge. He's a part of a guild already. What's he doing signing up with us?"

"I wouldn't assume that, he sounded really disgruntled. He may have the badge just as a token, a conversation piece. If I worked so hard to get my badge I'd sooner hurl a Shadow Ball at my guildmaster than fork it over." Leon glances around. No sign of a tiny rattata sneering at him for saying something like that aloud. "Not like we have any."

"As if we'll ever get badges."

A quiet third voice comes out of nowhere, familiar, but still very sudden. The voice gives them a good jump when it corrects Roserade.

"We will."

A cool breeze sweeps over Leon as the resident library ghost emerges from behind the bookshelf. If she could smile, she'd greet them all with a cheeky smile. She goes on without even apologizing, as scares from her were expected at this point.

"Braviary is our first lead in a long while. Now we have a chance for us to look at one close up, to understand how it works and if it's replicable with our resources" Froslass turns to Roserade, "For this, Guildmaster said he's welcome here."

"Okay, so we learn a thing or two then what?"

"It would be the guildmaster's decision, Roserade." she answers, "Should it content you to know, he requested I perform a background check on our new acquaintance. And the whole morning I searched the books to find anything which may connect him to an obscure guild someplace far away only to come up empty handed. There's no stray mention of a hatted Braviary in most of our books on other guilds, nor do any of their badges match his. He's truly remarkable as to leave me completely dumbfounded for once. I don't believe for a moment he himself knows his homeland or his guild."

"Sounds like a facade." Roserade grumbles.

"Then it's not a very good one if we can see through it." Leon speaks, "Where does someone like him come from? He looks like he came straight from the Sand Continent, but that's way too far of a place to come from just to bother us. Something is up with him."

How much does it take for them to understand a mysterious nobody should be approached with caution? Roserade grumbles.

"Do you see why I don't want him around here? He's off, very off, and I especially don't like it when I can't tell whether or not my own guildmates are telling me the truth. There's enough bad blood around these parts as is."

"Just because he doesn't know-"

"- doesn't mean he's not playing into it." Roserade completes Froslass' sentence for her. "He could be playing stupid, pulling the wool over all of our eyes. How did anyone find this dunce?"

"Unconscious on a beach."

"You can't be-"

Before the cuss words come rolling out of Roserade's mouth, Leon lets out a loud shush, then another until all eyes in the library are on the smeargle. It's then he rubs his temples in thought, working his mind to a conclusion which lies on the tip of his tongue. Of all the pokemon who had to listen to the pipsqueak go off about his dreams of adventure, the kid placed too much in this guild of nobodies to lie with such a dumb joke as finding someone on the beach. Prinn had to be sincere, and even if he wasn't, then what was the harm? It'd give them a cure for boredom at worst; an actual lead at best.

Those myths had to have some semblance of truth to them, right? They can't all be total fabrications. Stories began from somewhere no matter how embellished they become. What better place to wonder about tall tales than in a guild's vast library?

"Froslass, are you done looking into him?" Leon spoke up, "You have anything else you need to do?"

"Unless there's unforeseen break-ins tonight, no. Why do I not like where this is going?"

"There's a thirty percent cut of my next job on the table if you feel like reading stories of mysterious pokemon who show up to guilds out of nowhere. Because if anything about them is remotely similar to Prinn's friend, then maybe something might be up here."

Time was a commodity she had in droves, narily should it be wasted on the pursuit of tall tales from adventurers unknown. There is nobody else in the guild who was willing to waste such time, Froslass knew, and she giggled at Leon's proposal.

"Make it worth it for me. Forty percent, no lower."

"Deal."

Leon extends his hand, she makes the motion of shaking it with her tiny cold hands. This was a good excuse to index some of the dusty sections of the library if she had ever seen one. Roserade laughs at the notion.

"Your loss, Leon."

"It's not like I can spend the coin here anyways."

Roserade shrugs, it's a quiet admission of defeat.

"If there's anything else you'd want to say Leon, then I will get to reading."

He had nothing to say, he truly made a bet on a hunch and of improbable guild tales told at the bar side. Braviary was useful to the Scholars no matter what its one belligerent guildie may say, and if he's got to spend some of his own money to prove to everyone they shouldn't outright turn everyone away because of him then Leon will gladly take the stab to his wallet. He's the one Guildie here without a consistent partner, and if Braviary is shown the door, then chances are he'll have to listen to the kid till the day either of them calls it quits.

If nobody can prove if Braviary was or is in another guild, what harm was there in keeping the man around? They can always play dumb. Can't poach a pokemon who doesn't know.

"And I should be going."

Going where? Probably to ask the Guildmaster if there were any new jobs needing done.

In his short stint here Braviary had already caught on to some of the Guild's ins and outs, more specifically, he realized there were only one of three places to be in here. These being the Archive, the mess hall, and the gardens. There was a fourth in the form of the amphitheater, but it's more of an extension of the mess hall rather than its own place. Prinn said where they had their battles as the wayward move wasn't likely to damage the old stone. In any other guild the battlefield should be an utter wasteland but these people were scholars and explorers, not battlers. They used the amphitheatre more as a place to have outdoor meetings, cookouts, and other banal celebrations.

Prinn reasoned the Mienfoo they're looking for probably wouldn't be in the Library, so they checked the messed hall first. The massive table which spans the room was utterly empty; the kitchen silent. It was sometime between lunch and the end of the day meals, why would anyone be here? Of course, it became clear what Prinn actually cared about.

Prinn looked at the empty kitchen to his left, then the big chair at the other end of the table, finally at the double doors leading outside.

"I don't know what we expected." Prinn speaks. "You wanna check outside?"

This wasn't a question. Unless they wanted to bother the guildies, or worse, their guildmaster, the only other options were the Library or knocking on everyone's door rooms. Braviary knew what was outside those doors. He was walking straight into Prinn's trap, wasn't he?

"Check behind those curtains, maybe some little fella's hiding there." Braviary combs through the room "Or the kitchen if you're hungry. How long do you reckon until the guild's next meal?"

"Maybe two, three hours? They usually have it at sundown for the late arrivals."

Do they know when they're coming back ahead of time? How long did this particular guild's jobs usually take? He'd have an idea if there were a job board somewhere, but he hadn't seen one here or in Scoria Town. At least they look out for their explorers, Braviary thinks, that's a good thing.

Light momentarily bursts into the room as Prinn flicks up the loose curtains as he waddles towards those doors. He stops when he has a flipper on the handle. He won't wait for Braviary to move, so either the bird follows him to where he will absolutely pester him about battles, or he stays here and allows this kid to handle the investigation. No way. He'll probably get thrashed for asking far too many questions. Braviary rounds the other side then waits for the door.

Prinn chirps, and he opens the way.

Four stone rings of various sizes and heights surround a flat circular plinth. Although it surely looks crude from a distance, the seating looks very intentional. It may not hold as many pokemon as it should, but these seats are meant for guild members from all walks of life; the only thing it is missing is a huge bowl for all the water-bound folks to watch from. It's by no means an impressive addition to the guild, and the last thing on Braviary's mind was its potential as a ring for two idiots to duke it out.

Which of course, was the only thing Prinn was thinking about. Maybe it wasn't a perfect place, nor was it necessarily ideal, but however it was wide open and the guild's services were only a few steps away if something happened to them. So long as they didn't fire anything particularly devastating like a Hyper Beam fired straight up back towards the windows of the guild, then it's a swell place for two adventurers to have a friendly match.

One minute problem: he didn't want to be watched. Not like he'd hurt Braviary, he probably couldn't even lay a flipper on him. But imagine if the guild was watching! He doesn't want to look incompetent in front of the people he's trying to impress; they'd throw him out! Worse yet, they'd put him up against one of their own so he can get trounced even harder.

He didn't need to think about it, as the little yellow and pinkish pokemon sitting next to the stage looking down at a piece of paper in her hands gave him plenty enough to think about. They found who they were looking for.

"Eileen!"

The paper nearly flies from her hand when Prinn shouts from the deck outside the kitchen. She hurriedly stuffs it into a satchel she was sitting on.

"Wh-why are you here?"

Prinn skips down to greet her; Braviary drags himself with him. When Prinn eventually leaps to the seat next to her, the three pokemon are roughly about the same size. They're all expecting her to say something rude, but she seems more flustered if anything; wondering why Prinn is now accompanied by a one-winged bird twice his size who's devoid of Prinn's cheer.

"What's the matter? Didn't you already know?" Prinn smiles, "I'm partly a member of the scholar's now!

"This is good news, I guess?" she stutters, "Congratulations? What are they having you do?"

"An investigation!"

"Oh, about last night? No wonder I didn't hear about you, everyone was talking about the burglary, not the little fellow who just joined."

She avoids eye contact, and just waves to Braviary.

"Who's this?"

Before Prinn could make an embarrassment out of them by introducing him, Braviary opts to take the reins. He clears his throat, and dusts his poncho out of habit.

"Braviary will do. It's a long story, but at the end of the day your guildmaster put us up to the task and we owe it to the little fella to get to the bottom of this. Are you a member of the guild?"

"Yes, yes I am. Newest member," Eileen gestures to Prinn, "well previously newest."

She takes a moment to straighten herself. She didn't expect anyone to be here, nor could she have guessed it'd be Prinn of all people to find her. She's off-guard. If she's any as the feisty person they think she is, now was the time to get what they needed.

"Got anything else you wanna tell before we get into it?" Braviary asks, "Like maybe why are you out here?"

"I'm not a suspect, am I?"

They look between each other. Is she? What do they possibly have to go off of other than the suspected typing of the culprit, supposed mail trouble, a mean look? With any luck they'll find no connection between her and the thief, so she'd be able to sleep peacefully at night knowing the worst thing to happen today was this little blue twerp joining her guild. Still, it wasn't a good idea to lie to her face. Braviary thinks of the first question on his mind.

"Y'all good at battling?"

"I like to think I'm a bit above average, my father was pretty good at it. Lycanroc helps me train, but we don't get as much fighting in as we should. My typing makes it difficult. I don't want to accidentally hurt him"

"Like how recently?" Prinn says, "I thought about training out here ever since I laid eyes on it. It's a big, wide area, perfect for battling."

"It's not perfect. The shores would be better."

She shuts her eyes, and for the second she's somewhere else. Waves roar as they crash onto a black shore; glacial winds blow from the north. She's joined by Bravairy when he closes his, and he swears he could almost feel the salty air burn his nostrils. It's awful, disorientating even, but she must see something in this place. The only thing he took with him from the beach was a feeling of longing and isolation.

Things would be different if he hadn't awakened here dazed and confused. Perhaps he'd be able to see the beauty of Scoria Town if he had come here out of choice, just like everyone else in this guild.

You could never be one of them. The intrinsic something pulls him from the shore, back into reality.

"But…" she continues "we haven't had a match in days. I've been busy carrying barrels all day, he's been busy doing silly little errands for Guildmaster. He says my job will help me build strength. I don't see what he's on about, I'm never gonna get into a fight with wine barrels, so I hope!"

Braviary is the only one who doesn't chuckle at this.

"You're still making coins, right?" Braviary asks.

"Yeah?"

"Then it's worth your time. What are you doing out here if Lycanroc's gone?"

"Being alone."

She twiddles her fingers, They look wrong without the paper between them. It's as though it were part of her; more important than the low-ranking job she had no choice to take. Psyduck's testimony painted a very clear picture of what's going on here: a guildie away from their family either worried sick about them or the contents of their mail. This was personal. They were in no place to demand to read through her matters, but if she could give them any sort of clue, it would be invaluable.

Does he just ask for it? How does one tell someone to spill their poorly hidden secrets out into the world? He only knew how to handle money, Prinn on the other hand - what could he do? Braviary was smart enough to realize this wasn't his territory. He took one big step backwards then let Prinn handle this one of two ways, poorly, or not so poorly.

"Look, um, Eileen…" Prinn's feathers bristle with anxiety. "Me saying you're not in trouble won't make things feel better, but that's the truth. I don't think you are, okay?"

Okay, not bad thus far. Prinn was picking his words much slower than usual.

"I don't know what things are like for you, I'm not sure if we're really all that big friends." Prinn slows even more. Get to the point, get to the point, he repeats in his head. "Pysduck said to keep you out of this and that's what we're gonna do, okay? We're just thinking a fighting-type could have been the burglar, and he said you were worried about something. Just tell us what it is. I promise I'll keep true to Psyduck and you."

Her tiny, black eyes leap between the well-meaning water-type and the Braviary in the distance. She seems fixed on the bird, then darts away, as whatever was on her mind is shoved away to make room for him. "He's not-" he swears he heard her say before she speaks up.

"Prinn, you know my dad, right?"

"I never met him. You just said he's a good battler."

"Dad was big in another guild, the one in Calico. My mom was in the same guild at some point but it's not something she mentions anymore. She didn't want me to join one. It's personal. It's not fun to talk about, and I don't want to."

This could be all she wrote and there'd be a lot to take home. The involvement of Calico's guild, a second possible suspect. But where do they go from here? She stares at them in silence, expecting them to say something but there's nary a peep. Everyone's waiting for more from her. Eileen clasps her fingers together, she rekindles some amount of strength, then speaks.

"Look, I'll just give you guys this: I come far away. My only way of keeping in touch with her at all is through Murkrow. But she's just been asking more things about the guild recently. It's weird because she moved on from all the guild stuff, she was never interested, she only ever told me to keep away from it."

Eileen's mother wouldn't be the only person with beef. Prinn, who endured two days of guild-bashing from his partner, knew what was about to come when he heard Braviary laugh.

"Wouldn't blame her. Guild life's a bit much on some people. Not every pokemon out there is cut out for it, but it's the only avenue some folks have to stay afloat. They make your food, they give you a roof, they control your pay. It's all nice until you think about leaving, then you realize you've been trapped ever since they gave you their shiny little badge."

Prinn's not alone for once, the Mienfoo has heard the same rabble a thousand times before. It's the same dispirited, colorless talk about guild life from the mouth of someone whose guild had taken everything from them. The voice may be different this time, but it's the same tired preachings spoken from the heart. There were so many things he had to say of them yet the guilds' mark on them shines brightly on his chest. What purpose did it serve to be emblazoned on his chest other than a constant reminder of what was, what will never be again, and what was taken?

"You sound alot like her."

A tremble followed by a sigh; she had nothing else to say to them. They've been given what they were looking for, she wanted to be alone now with her thoughts - with her letter. They'll just have to accept the information given to them. The letter, for all intents and purposes, had been barred for them.

Prinn quietly slides off his seat, and Braviary follows him to the mess hall. She deserves to be let be.

Beyond the door they hear the rumble of the kitchen, dinner was being prepared, and with it meant night was fast approaching. The moon would soon settle behind the treetops, Froslass will lock the library away, and whoever is on ground duty will sweep through the guild and lock up their wine stores. The guildmaster will do a second look from his window, then everyone will be sound asleep in their cramped little rooms. Braviary reaches for the door then stops.

It's interesting, he thinks, that this whole investigation spawned solely out of someone trying to steal some guild's drinks. Important drinks, but still drinks. It's an oddly specific place to attack a guild unless they already knew what it meant to them, knew the guild's schedule, and their relationship with the local traders. Their investigation granted them the privilege of knowing all of this; however, they're all things anyone who has been here for long enough could have discovered on their own. Said pokemon could be anybody, yet their eyes remained squarely on Eileen. She may have not done this, but she still played a role in it. Someone was using her for information.

The big question of course, was who? Up until now there were two very easy explanations: someone with a grudge, a vexed ex-trader who got dealt the short end of the stick, or a criminal off to make money. They've been faced with the very real possibility this girl or her family just may well be responsible. A hole in their pocket means less explorer equipment, less equipment means less jobs are taken. A guild can recover from this in time, but to make the guild doubt its trust in its explorers will cause it to eat itself alive. Maybe the odd member or two will leave at first, which for a guild of this size may be all it'll take for it to begin its downfall.

Whether this is Braviary's experience or contempt speaking, he's been unable to separate the two since the beach. Goes to show how little he knows of him, himself, and this strange continent.

"Hey are you okay? You went off again…"

Prinn hasn't moved either. He's at the door with him, waiting for Braviary to step inside, perhaps a bit afraid to go run into whomever might be in the mess hall

"You can always count on it." he answers, "I just had a thought, I'll tell you once we have all our Psyduck in a row. Preferably while we're still not in possible eyeshot of your… friend back there?"

"Friend." Prinn nods, "Yeah.. friend."

"Just your friend, so what got you so nervous then?"

Prinn shrugs.

Yeah, okay kid.

With the push of a wing the door opens. Accompanying the storm being brewed into the kitchen is a familiar face from across the table: Leon, sat alone with a bowl of assorted berries. Taking up the seat nearest to him is a large bag made from a familiarly green canvass, its contents unknown, but there's enough in it to keep upright. It's hard to tell if he's happy to see them.

"Hey. " he bites into a bright red berry, "Anything new since last night?"

Over to the right they can see the guild's chef through the kitchen window, a metang. Their huge metal hands can barely work the pans they've been given as they whip the kitchen into the storm. It sounds like a racket, but it's clearly deliberate in some way because they're able to keep several stoves roaring with only a slight hassle.

"Oh yeah, a little bit!" Prinn glances back at the door. "We'd just back from talking to Eileen about some of it. I'd say we have a good idea of where to go."

"Huh like where?"

"Like, erm…"

This was an overstatement. Scoria Town was a guild town on a shore out in the middle of nowhere. Unless these thieves have some secret base deep within the pines, there's only one place to go from here - Calico Town. By time Prinn makes it to this other guild town, chances are the culprits will be missing, and he'll have to pick up the pieces in their wake. This is if these bandits are smart; if they're really smart they won't even stop at Calico Town. They'll go on to somewhere far away from any other guild then run their gambit there, selling their wares to the many, many travelers of the Dusk Continent.

Maybe they are out there, where no Pokemon would think to go without a guild's help. Let's not think of those places, Prinn shakes his head, let's not go into a dungeon as a first time job. He'd quite like to be around to collect his pay.

"Calico town of course!" Prinn gets it out, "Yeah - you remember those rumors of bandits, Leon? We figure it's the same group who went after the wine and the last shipment of it left before news about the break-in reached Scoria. The lady in charge of the shipment was headed right over there!"

"You gotta be kidding me!" The kitchen stops when Leon shouts. "Did nobody announce what happened last night?"

Psyduck was completely oblivious, on the other hand Garl sounded as though he had a vague idea of what went down. Doesn't Garl work with the guild? It'd make sense for a trader with direct ties to know if anything happened to his supplier. Then there's the odd pokemon out, the pokemon who left this morning without a trace - Aromatisse. The same pokemon who happened to have a shipment of wine with them.

There's no way they were the only pokemon to head to town and tell folks about this, right?

"I sure hope not!" Braviary speaks, "Garl was the only fellow down there who knew what went down. The only other pokemon we brought it up with was darned surprised to hear the guild got clowned on."

"It's a break in, Braviary. It's not 'clowning on'." Leon grumbles. "It's serious business, it's not some prank."

He ripped through another berry and spit out its core, only a little bothered.

"Go on. Did Guildmaster send you to tell anyone?"

"Nope." Braviary says, "Figured it was okay to tell Garl since he's obviously got more ties to the Scholars than anyone else down there. It bears repeating, we reckon he already knew."

"What about the Aromatisse?" Prinn exclaims

"Gimme a moment Prinn-"

Leon intercepts him a second time when he springs out of his seat, nearly spilling his bowl. He points across the table.

"Wait wait, you said an Aromatisse, right? Trader?"

"Yeup, Garl even said she's from a trade family."

"Not just any," Leon elaborates, "she's from one of the biggest families on the continent! A whole group of aromatisse all work under their banner, they're mostly incense traders, but they handle other things too."

"So… kinda like Murkrow right?"

"Sorta." Leon answers Prinn. "Except for mail they all do trade. Groups like them, consisting of one sort of pokemon, exist everywhere. The Aromatisse are entirely local to our lands. They sometimes hire other people to do their work, but you'll never see them, you'll only be talking to the traders who are all those pink folks."

Braviary leans forward, Leon shrinks back into his seat in response.

"And y'all know this because?"

Leon plops another berry into his mouth and chews. He takes the couple which are left in the bowl into a pouch on his travel bag.

"I told you I used to work with caravanners. So I may have worked for them without really knowing, just pushing things from one town to the back without reading the labels, lighting the way with my tail. The last caravan I worked with was on its way here when on the way back when well…"

Well if his caravan was headed this way, why not drop off an application to the local guild, make a pitch for a shot at a better job? The caravan clearly didn't listen to him anyways, they didn't heed his obvious warning to simply traverse during the day. After they would pay the price of their ignorance Leon was welcomed into the Guild's fold. He gave one miserable lifestyle for a slightly less miserable one. In all fairness guilds didn't tend to get raided on the regular, getting to the bottom of this was key to snuffing this out before it becomes a trend.

While Braviary had much to condem about the life of a guildie, Leon had the right choice here. Braviary nods his head in solemn agreement, he wouldn't have done it another way.

"I'm not saying if the Aromatisse you're looking for knows me, but I'm probably on their records in a basement somewhere, told never to be hired should I come looking. I hadn't ever found out who gave us the return job. I do know she'll absolutely hate the sight of me if it happens to have been her."

Great, they might actually get in a fight after all.

"Okay, okay, what do you suggest she'd know about the break in then? Because folks don't suddenly wake up and leave for no reason when there's bad news floating around."

"I don't know, Braviary." Leon shrugs, "Someone from here could've told her, or maybe her reason has nothing to do about this. She would have already been paid, she could afford to go anytime she wants. The guild isn't liable, but I don't think there's anyone with the guts to start a problem with a trade family like her's."

There was indeed someone from here already handing out guild information to the world, a Mienfoo who wanted nothing other than to be left alone. She could have left the Guild first thing in the morning, told the people whom she worked with about the terrible news, and through the vine - an Aromatisse would eventually hear about it. Out of a deep respect for the guild, and not wanting to soil their reputation with the town's supplier of the delicious wine, they'll continue to keep her out of this.

"So as for both of you, what's your plan? Heading out? Calling it a night?"

"If she did leave this morning, um, then the chances are she'd already be attacked." Prinn jostles his carrying tube around, hearing the map crinkle inside. "So the sooner we leave, the sooner we can catch up and warn her."

"Straight away, huh? It's going to be dark out there, you know. You could use a light."

The travel bag; the fact he was already investigating this when they rolled around. Braviary knew what was about to happen.

"Sure. Do you mind Prinn?"

"I can mind him as long as I get paid."

Leon chuckles, Braviary laughs, Prinn tries to follow along but he sounds more like a hatchling crying out for help. Perhaps feeling a bit bad about this, Leon quickly turns to the roaring.

"Mick! Can I take what's left with me?"

A voice, metallic, and grating sounds back. It talks as though each word is an effort to speak.

"You already did. It's in your bag's front right pocket"

"Are you able to make more?"

"This is not a question, Leon. I am capable of feeding this guild, so it stands to reason I can cook for three pokemon."

Leon thinks of his next words carefully.

"But will you, for the kid?"

"Of course."