Not sure how I feel about this, just yet, but I want to put it out here for the sake of it not collecting dust.
This takes inspiration from Fuggmann's 'Borne of Caution' and 'Borne of Desire' stories, but some part of me wanted to write in one of those universes of theirs.
Here is what I have, so far.
Day 1 of (a series of scratched out words) this thing
Date: December 12th, 20XX
"I need to keep a calm head for what's happened to me. One of the first things Dad taught me after seeing a hurricane blow through, is that you need to stay calm when under duress. Albeit this is something a bit more than a really large storm, but the point still stands: a level head can think better than a panicked one. Stress can increase reaction time, but that's pointless right now. I think. Well, I think it can increase reaction time, but I know that it's-
A few sentences have been scratched out.
"BACK ON TOPIC, I'll keep this brief. The long and short of it is that I've been in some sort of accident. My right leg is either broken or sprained heavily and I really hope there isn't any torn muscles or I'm in deep shit. This was supposed to be some cool trip through Keystone but I must've fell from climbing, because of both the leg and the feeling of getting knocked upside my head something fierce. I was with a hiking group and a guide, but I haven't seen any of them.
"After I took stock of myself, I hit the Ranger and tried to wait it out, seeing how I'm relatively safe down here. Based on my phone (which has no cell reception and a nasty crack down the middle) says it's been two hours and the beacon only lasts for one. Well, the light stopped blinking, in any case, and I can't tell if it's just broken or out of batteries.
"Then I went through the motions: make a splint for my leg, clear my immediate area of snow to keep warm, and I even managed to set up my tent all with one leg. Woo, go me! Now all I have to do is wait.
"Then the fox showed up."
She sets down her journal to close her eyes and let out a huff. Immediate regret colors her face when her sore chest - probably from the fall she can't remember - gives a dull throb of pain. At least her leg isn't in so much pain, as long as she doesn't do anything about it. Opening up her eyes, she scans around the extremely spartan living space she has; just the inner walls of her tent, the sleeping bag she stuffed herself into, her pack set off to the side and ready to go at a moments notice and the journal in her lap.
Honestly, she didn't think about writing in it, beyond a few notes for context on some sketches she did. It was there so that she had some handmade pictures to pin up on her corkboard and, maybe, if her DnD group ever went somewhere cold so she could help set the mood. Now it's here to help keep her sane.
She hears a light scratching outside her tent, and she frowns. Right. The fox. How could she forget? She glares at the offending white ball next to her, cracked open along a red line surrounding it and connected by a very tiny hinge. The glare hardens, as if it was the reason she had all the problems in her life.
She picks back up her journal.
"I'm not going to address it; maybe the concussion I have is making me see and hear things. Regardless, if I want to make it out of here alive and sane, then the fox doesn't exist. Even if the weird pokéball thing it came out of makes sense.
"My best bet is to just wait it out. Sometime tomorrow, there should be help, and it was a good thing I brought a few high carb snacks to hold me over and a little electric heater with a pot to get water.
"Just have to deal with the hallucinations right outside my tent, where the snow is."
Below the text, sketched very carefully, is a vulpine face with its fangs exaggerated in a terrifying way. Next to it are the words "TOTALLY ACCURATE, I SWEAR"
Day 2 of 'the thing'
Date: December 13th, 20XX
"It's close to evening, with no sign of anyone coming. Okay, this is somehow more real than my leg breaking and my food is running out and-
There's a small part scratched out after.
"The fox disappeared for a while, ignoring the realistic tracks and small hole in the snow next to my tent, so I grabbed some snow and had some water. It tastes strange. Food is... I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
"My leg's definitely broken, I feel okay as long as I don't move it around too much. Also, I'm not sure if my meds have a side effect if I get a head injury, but I feel sudden mood swings every now and then. One moment I'm trying to keep myself occupied, the next I hear the fox whine and a sudden pang of sadness?
"It hurt, whatever it was. I might have to brave whatever is this fox's deal, if I want a chance at food."
Placing her journal carefully into her pack, she lets out a huff of air.
Almost as if in response, she feels that same drop in her gut right before the fox whines. She frowns again, brow furrowing as she puts her head in her hands. You're not real. Just a figment of my imagination. I'm alone and waiting for help.
Just like last time, another pang hits her and... it hurts. Almost like some anxiety-induced nightmare of her father telling her that he doesn't love her. It hurts.
Then her stomach growls, relief flooding her of a bigger problem to think about.
"Alright, food. Need that." She mumbles. Carefully, she shifts herself closer to the entrance flap of the tent and puts on her gloves. As she raises her hands up to the zipper, she stops.
The fox is still outside. If she listens hard enough, she can hear it's breathing. If she wants to get through this part of life, she needs to go outside this tent and figure something out. That, and get more snow for water. Her lips are chapped to hell and back, but that can be solved by a hospital visit. But seeing that thing again would be...
Hm. Be brave, Morgan.
She keeps an ice pick next to her, just in case.
Carefully, she opens the tent and feels the already cold air grow colder. She keeps opening it until she gets an uninterrupted view of the tundra she currently resides in. It isn't familiar, but yet again she doesn't really remember much. She knows that behind her is a cliff that she must've fallen off of, but beyond that she has no clue about what's taking everyone so long to find her.
After about a minute of staring out of the tent, the fox slowly walks around the side and peers back at her. The big reason why she tends to believe she has a head injury is because of how... fake it looks. A normal fox wouldn't look like this. On top of its head is a mop of messy white curls that look just like hair, which foxes don't have, and behind it is not one, but six tails arrayed like a fan behind it which foxes should not have.
The periwinkle eyes are kind of adorable, despite the situation.
The not-fox tilts it's head to the side, staring at her. It makes a sound that almost sounds inquisitive.
She looks back at it. "Hey, yourself."
She feels another swing of her mood turn towards trepidation, along with something she can't define. Right after that, she sees the tails behind the fox wag in unison. They almost act like one large, weird tail.
Honestly, the worst part about this is how familiar it is. She hasn't been so out of tune of the games to know that this looks a lot like a vulpix. Well, except for it being white as snow, but she's already into extremely unrealistic territory so why not have white vulpixes? Wait- or does that make is shiny? What does a shiny vulpix look like, anyhow?
She'd keep asking herself these questions, if it wasn't for... something happening to her head. It almost felt like a nudge, which left an imprint of confusion on top of her previous confused internal ramble. She blinks, puts a hand to her head and shakes it, then sighs. She's been doing that a lot, lately.
"Okay, Morgan," She looks back up to her surroundings. "You have a broken leg, an empty stomach, and a hallucinatory fox jumping out of balls and breaking the laws of physics. How are you going to feed yourself?"
Looking off to the side, she can see a copse of trees that might be a small forest about a five minute's crawl away. She might be able to forage for something there, which is all she's good for, at the moment.
Not even good, with a busted leg. She morosely thinks.
Then the fox yips. No, not a yip- it sounds more like a spoken "Vul!" than something an animal could make. She looks back down at it, mostly out of the absurdity of it doing something other than whine, but it trots through the groves it made in the snow to the side of the tent, specifically where she remembers a divot the fox dug out next to it. It then walk back around the corner, with something about the size of an orange in its maw but blue. As it trots back to her, it sets it down right outside the tent entrance and she can't help but stare at the thing it dropped.
It's a blue orange. Her mind sort of grinds to a halt, just... staring at it. For some reason, it looks familiar. It's not until she hears a "Pix!" calling to her that she looks up at the fox. If an animal's face can look expectant, this fox sure is trying its best and is doing a good job of it.
She looks back down at the... fruit? "This is for me?"
The nod she received only confused her more.
...well, to be fair, theoretically speaking, if this fox is a vulpix, a fantasy creature from a video game/anime, then there were signs of it being an intelligent creature. Loads of pokémon seem to mostly understand what people say in the show, and there are literal godlike entities that can do stuff like control time and space, or whatever. Vulpixes aren't exactly mini-gods, but being able to think ahead and bring food to someone who needs it is fairly intelligent if she says so, herself.
Almost as if reading her thoughts, the vulpix preens as if complimented.
She looks back down at the fruit, then pokes it. "Is... is this even edible? I've never seen a blue orange, before?"
As if encouraging her, it noses it closer to her.
"...ah, screw it," She picks it up. "If this thing is toxic, I'll die on a full stomach."
Despite the pessimism, the fox makes a noise and a feeling of happiness washes over a corner of her mind. She has to take her gloves off to peel the weird orange, and to throw her for an even bigger loop is that, while the outside looks like an orange, the skin is quite thin. Peeling it back reveals it to look more like a peach on the inside, but if its insides were colored like a blueberry would. Shrugging, she bites down on it and finds it eats like a peach, too. Juices drip down her chin, making her curse slightly as she tries to catch every last drop, and the smooth, mild flavored fruit is eaten with gusto. She'd take a peach over this any day of the week, but she's not exactly able to find a farmer's market out here in the Alaskan wilderness.
As she cleans herself up of the fruit juice, a sense of comfort washes over her. The fruit will probably hold her over if it doesn't kill her, so now she can forage with a slightly better mood. Looking back down at the fox, she smiles. "Thanks. If, you know, you're real. Or my spirit guardian, or something. Heh," She gives a slightly hysterical laugh. "That would be a hilarious story: Morgan's distant Japanese family spirit shows up for her as a pokémon, of all things. Unless, like, you're actually are a kitsune or something, then prepare to be disappointed; I'm not religious or anything."
Strangely enough, after she finishes her little rant, the fox shakes its head and-
You'll never disappoint.
-her vision blurs, and she has to hold her head for a moment at the sudden lightheadedness she's overwhelmed with. She leans away from the fox, trying to see what the fuck just happened. She does it hard enough to quickly crawl away from it, back suddenly hitting the tent wall.
Did... was that feeling from- from the fox? The feeling was so visceral and tangible, as if someone's thoughts just crashed into her own. It wasn't even words, just a feeling of encouragement or... she doesn't have a word for it, but it's like her dad when he assures her on something she's doubting.
Assurance. That's the word. Raw, unfiltered assurance.
The words sort of spill out of her mouth. "That's a lot of faith you have in me, kit."
Another wave of assurance has her feeling woozy, and she shakes her head. "Alright, alright, I get it. Now enough of that, I have a concussion and I don't want some psychic fox spirit making it..." She slows down, brow furrowing.
Beyond the woozy feeling passing, she actually feels... good. Great, even: she had some food, her headache from before is practically gone, her chest doesn't hurt when she breathes in too deep, her leg- she just used her broken leg to move away from the fox earlier, but beyond a tender feeling she feels fine.
Then, as if finally awakening an old memory, she recalls something from the games. Berries. Specifically Oran berries, which look like blue oranges and heal for a small amount. A freaky fox that's psychic realized she was hurt, went out and found a bloody healing item from a video game, and gave it to her in an extreme show of intellect and quick thinking.
Slowly, she pulls back on her clothes, fixes her scarf, puts on her boots, then crawls out of the tent and slowly stands up.
She blinks, looking from her leg to the fo- the vulpix. The vulpix gives her a smile, albeit a very vulpine-looking one. Without saying a word, she crouches down and tentatively reaches a hand out to it. The vulpix gladly pushes its head into her hand, her hand scratching a spot behind its ears.
Suddenly, her chances of survival just went up by a lot, even if she has to accept the madness of a magic fox and cellular regeneration via a fucking fruit. Senzu beans, eat your heart out.
She pulls her hand back, the vulpix looking at her with its big periwinkle eyes. Shaking her hand, she says. "Yeah, sorry, but you're freezing. It's colder than the devil's nutsack out here, and I'd like to live to see all my fingers intact."
Day 3 of getting myself the fuck outta here
Date: 15th of December, 20XX
"Yesterday was a bit of a revelation, to put it simply. I went into that day thinking I was going to have the struggle of my life, and instead I ended it with more questions than answers.
"Before I tucked in for the night because of the cold, I walked over to the nearby wood and foraged for food with the (scratched out word) vulpix. The second half of that sentence is what's giving me a slight existential crisis. For one, while my leg still feels sore as hell, it's not broken anymore. The 'fox' from before turned out to be a hell of a lot more pertinent to my survival than I thought, seeing how it knew I was hurt, went out and somehow procured a fruit from a children's video game with healing properties and it gave it to me. That shouldn't have happened, but here I am following a white vulpix around and collecting half-frozen tubers and berries with it.
"Which leads to the other part of my earlier statement: a white vulpix exists and is helping me survive. I swear, this shit reads like some sort of childhood dream fanfic, minus the fact that I'm still not in a great spot. Better, absolutely, but I need to find civilization soon so that I can check back into reality and not have to get help from pocket monsters.
"Until then, however... entertaining this reality I'm in right now, the vulpix is confusing me. One really big thing is that I remember them being red and all about fire, but I've yet to see any facts pointing to this. It's ice cold to the touch, and I remember it shaking its fur out once and it shedding ice off of itself. At one point, it yawned and when it sighed afterwards I saw a nearby shrub gain a new layer of frost and sag from the weight. I know I'm not misremembering what a vulpix is, but the supernatural things going on makes me want to see it less.
"Other than that, I think I'm about done waiting for rescue to come. Tomorrow, I plan on climbing the cliff I fell off of and getting into a more visible vantage point. They know I'm missing, but they might miss me if I stay at the bottom of the cliff face. It even looks fairly easy to scale."
Day 4 of Operation: GTFO
Date: December 16th, 20XX
"So I scaled the ledge, and I discovered that pokéballs are frikkin weird.
"I woke up this morning, took my meds with some snow water, then packed everything up and came across my first problem. While I would be fine climbing up the sheer face, since I have the equipment to do so, the vulpix isn't so lucky. I was thinking of tying some cord around it and lifting it up with me, but it weighs a lot more than it looks.
"Also should start calling it a 'he', accidentally got an eye full of... yeah, while trying to find a comfortable knot to tie him in. He seemed oddly amused by my embarrassment so I flicked his ear.
"Then I remembered the pokéball. It looks different than the ones I remember, but I guess this weird fever dream I'm in doesn't have to be a hundred percent accurate; see the cold vulpix as an example. But, strange looks or not, a pokéball is supposed to help carry around pokémon of unusual size or something, so I took another look at it and saw a couple of buttons along it. One was a recall function, then after a starting flash of red light he just disappeared.
"The climb was easy, after that, with me setting up camp next to a rock that should help cut the wind. The vulpix wanted out ASAP and I had a giggle at how uncomfortable he seemed being shoved into it. Looks like someone took after Ash's pikachu.
"But I'm avoiding a fairly large problem, here. All of this that's happened, along with seeing a pokéball in action, is painting a very terrifying picture. They aren't supposed to exist. Yet here's an ice cold vulpix helping me survive out here in the middle of nowhere. There's probably some fancy word for what's going on, but until I see another human...
"I could be really, really lost. I hope I'm not, or else-"
The rest of the entry is scribbled out.
The next day was a lot less calm, on the count of there being a snowstorm. The wind wasn't too bad, but she didn't want the vulpix being buried by all of the snow, so now her little two person tent is filled to capacity. She wishes she had enough room in her bag to pack a book, because at this rate she'd die of boredom long before the cold will get her.
At least she hasn't gotten over the ice fox, yet. It- he seems content on napping the day away. Every now and then she'd put on a glove and give him a little scritch behind an ear, but beyond that he's curled himself up in a ball in that way foxes do and she's pissed that she's out of phone charge.
...well, he is a sapient creature...
"Uh, hey."
The vulpix adjusts his head slightly too look at her, still curled up. She doesn't really know what to say, given that he doesn't really speak at all, but then she feels a sudden wash of inquisitiveness and it takes her a moment to realize a fairly good topic to start with.
"Is that... you? Poking around inside my head?" At the feeling of confirmation she continues. "Is that normal, or..."
His eyes turn a bit hazy in thought, then look off to the side. A strange mixture of emotions flood into her, none of them she's able to discern their meaning.
"Okay, I get the feeling you're about as confused as I am about all of this." A pang of reluctance has her huff. "Oi, if you wanna talk about reluctance imagine finding out pokémon are real. I mean, no offense," She leans over and boops his nose. "You've been a great help and extremely cute to boot, but..."
It's like I'm in purgatory. Am I dead? Am I just having some crazy fever dream about my childhood fantasy? Or is... A sort of panic sets in, gripping her chest. Is this real, so real that I'm not on Earth anymore. How am I supposed to go home? What about my friends- my family? I don't wanna leave them behind in another world! I want to go home, damnit!
Her thoughts continue to run on, and they would've kept going if she didn't feel something cold and wet on her ungloved hand. She jumps, pulling her hand back slightly and out of her spiraling mind. Looking down at the vulpix, she can see him pull his tongue back into his muzzle, feeling worry radiating from him and painted on his fox-like face. Then his ears perk up, moving over to her bag and shoving his head inside of it.
"Uh, what're you doing- hey, don't mess up how I organized-" She pauses when he comes back out with something in his mouth, then pads over the three steps to drop it in her lap.
She stares down at the prescription bottle of viloxazine. Right, she forgot to take them, this morning... Normally, she'd have some sort of reminder set to help her remember, or a friend would ask if she had taken them (even if it gets annoying, she appreciates it) but now...
She sighs. "Well, at least one thing doesn't change. I'd give an arm and a leg to not need this. Years of frustration..."
A few minutes later and a slightly more empty canteen has her staring at the vulpix again. She narrows her eyes.
"...I need to give you a name."
The ice fox, who has relocated into her lap, looks up at her.
"I'm not going to call you 'that vuplix' or 'hey you' for however long you're with me, and doing the thing in the anime where they just say the name of the species is just weird."
Somehow, he does a thing with his shoulder blades and she recognizes it as a shrug.
She ponders a name for him. "Not gonna give you a pet name; something like Cuddles would be an insult to how smart you are." A rush of relief tinged with agreement graces the edge of her mind. "Hm... what about Hati, that wolf who chases the moon? Nah, too canine for you, and it kinda sounds like a pet name all over again."
She debates a few names with him, some a bit more agreeing than others, before the wind outside suddenly stops. She turns around, brows furrowed. The vulpix hops off of her lap as she twists around and unzips the tent, taking a peek outside. Sure enough, the snow and winds have finally given up on burying her alive, leaving skies that are beginning to clear and a nice helping of snow glare to flashbang her.
She squints her eyes, putting a hand up to block the snow. "Huh, guess it was just a squall."
Then it clicks.
"Squall..." Suddenly, she's reminded of a embarrassing crush she had when she was a kid, about some hot anime guy with the same nickname. Everyone had one, and hers came from some jrpg, as if she couldn't be anymore stereotypical.
Then she looks down at the little ice fox that came into her life all of a sudden and, well, she couldn't help but giggle. At both his curious look and the pulse of curiosity - as if he's saying 'wtf Morgan?' - she explains. "Just thought of the perfect name. How's Squall sound to you?"
It only takes a moment of thought, but after it passes she feels... warmth. Not actually, it's still cold as all hell, but whatever emotion he's projecting on her feels right to call it warmth. Now that is the kind of vulpix she remembers.
Then another thought suddenly crashes into her mind, making her smile go wider. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know any pokémon moves, would you?"
Day 5
"We found someone. I wish I didn't."
The handwriting is followed by a mess of lines scribbling out some largely written, short message. The leftmost part of it barely shows an "I'M" while the right side edge shows "ERE!" but only just.
Part of the page has spots of wetness dotting it, smearing the graphite.
Here we go again.