While seeking iron for food, it digs tunnels by breaking through bedrock with its steel horns.
13
I didn't run to the fire padlock.
No. I ran that last span of our pasture to the back fence and leaped.
My legs must have gotten stronger, for the wood didn't so much as graze the tip of my tails. My paws caught the earth below me with ease and launched me into the sparse undergrowth of the woods.
I thought I heard him call my name, but if he had it was weak and breathless.
I had long ago concluded that these woods were not the same ones that surrounded my hometown. The trees had smoother bark and a thicker canopy. The brush whipping past me had soft, feathery fronds and few stones broke across my path, only to be replaced by moss-covered roots. The humidity thickened as I left the expanse of the padlocks. The afternoon sun filtered into an emerald twilight.
When my legs began to tire I had only circumvented a few hills, each covered just as the rest of the ground with heavy, moist forest. Occasionally a burst of color or movement alerted me to other poke'mon, but before I could look I had sped past, and my dark coloring helped me to blend into the shadows and, therefore, minimized the alarm I caused.
As I ran, guilt, excitement, and dread battled for a place in my mind. Guilt for Chevy and the hit Carlos was bound to get for losing such a rare poke'mon. Excitement that I was finally out and on my way towards, what, I didn't know, but it had to be better than spending the rest of my life as a breeding poke'mon. Dread for the unknown.
Fortunately, I had found a small map of sorts hanging on the wall of Carlos's cabin. Unfortunately, Ninetale's eyes were not meant for reading small, far away print, and I was only able to gather that I was near south of Foretree city. Mt. Pyre, the Mountain where Vulpix were said to dwell, and vicariously Ninetails, was south east of Foretree city surrounded by water. Therefore, if I headed east, which is the direction I had left Carlos's ranch from, and kept the setting sun at my back, I should be going in the right direction. The canopy made that difficult, but occasionally I managed to hit a break in the leaves.
As darkness started to creep over the woods, I slowed, searching for water to allow some of the excess heat out of my mouth. The moisture of the woods made sniffing out water difficult, so I tried listening, but the noises of the leaves and distant Noctowls disturbed it.
Just as I was conceding to a roll in the dirt to cool off, the leaves ahead of me rustled and a slinky, brown-stripped Linoone appeared.
We eyed each other warily. Even though it was closer to the ground than me, I was not foolish enough to think that size meant I was stronger.
When I showed no further sign of attacking, the Linoone sniffed the air.
"You don't smell of these woods," it said, high and soft.
"Yes, I'm trying to get back home to Mount Pyre, where the ghosts and Vulpix are."
The Linoone made a soft wuffle, almost like a quick series of breaths through its nose. After another second, it raised itself onto its hind legs.
"You smell so strange…"
I sighed, or tried to, through my overheated pants. "We've covered that."
"You are heading in the right direction for the place of ghosts."
"Sweet."
"You burn."
"Yeah, could you point me to some water per chance?"
It wiggled its claws. "Keep going past me. You'll find a stream—"
"Thanks—"
"—and a cave." It's black eyes shifted. "Not the place of ghosts. Place of ghosts across a lake. To enter place of ghosts must enter a cave, across the lake. First across stream."
"Across the stream, got it."
It blinked at me, as though not really understanding, or not sure I understand.
"Past me," it said.
"Yeah, a stream, and still burning, so I better hurry. Thanks again."
It gave a nod and the moment its front paws were back on the dirt, I was off again, my lolling tongue desperate for cool water.
Weird little thing, I thought. Though there had been useful directions. I didn't know you had to enter a cave to access Mount Pyre. It wasn't like I'd ever been there. All I knew was that it was a mountain with a bunch of poke'mon graves which ran all the way to the top. Fun place.
Quicker than I expected, I came upon the stream the Linoone spoke of and cheered as I dropped my steaming muzzle into its frigid waters. They burned, but quenched the fire all the way down to my belly.
I drank my fill before taking in my surroundings, most likely a poor decision on my part.
"So, where to stay for the night…" I thought about climbing a tree before banishing the thought. I didn't even know where to start with that one. Maybe a hollow? No, it had to be somewhat protected, at least from the elements, since I didn't know of any poke'mon big enough or predatorial enough to seek out a Ninetales for food in this area…outside of Mightyena, but I figured I knew that scent so well I'd be woken up if any came within a mile of me.
Figuring I might as well cross the stream, I did so, doing my best to ignore the burning it left on my feet. It would leave soon enough and I still couldn't find it in me to completely fear water.
Just as I did so, I saw the trees thinning up just barely up ahead, and when I stepped into the clearing I saw what must have been the cave the Linoone was referencing as "not into the place of ghosts" or however it had phrased it. It wasn't much, but it did look tall enough to allow a man to enter with his head ducked.
I sniffed around the entrance, wary of anything that didn't smell of dirt, water, or plants. There was a chalky sort of scent to the cave walls, but since I could find traces of it in all the rocks around the cave and deeper in, I figured it was some sort of mineral.
A distant rumble drew my attention to the sky. Oncoming dark clouds crawled along the edge of the circle of sky above the clearing.
"Just in time." I padded into the cave, testing around for a higher spot to curl up so water wouldn't pour from outside onto me. I found a little rise, like a pedestal, and curled up with my tails, already missing the feel of Carlos's rug and a warm fire, or even the press of Chevy's body next to mine.
Chevy….
I huffed to release the tension my chest gathered for a whine.
With the rain came the blessing of my scent being muddled or washed away entirely, so there was a lower chance of Chevy being able to follow me. I didn't know what I'd do if I had to face him again, or worse, face that horrid daycare again.
It was with these thoughts, along with imagining the cold stone around me was cool grass and the shade of our favorite tree, that I drifted to sleep and back into a forest of my dreams.
The leaves weren't unlike the foliage I had just fled through, though I paid them little heed, my focus on the silver-haired man ahead of me. I could see each metallic strand of his hair with ultra-clarity. His hands reaching up to push branches out of the way each wore a silver ring. One held a blue stone, the other red. Not gems, but simple polished mineral with swirling shades, like marble.
His fingernails were short, clean, and lined with white stripes from years of abuse. I had seen similar nails on my father, who had worked as a carpenter and construction worker, back when I had still been okay sitting close to him. These were the hands of a man who did rough work.
A bang of thunder jerked me awake. The mouth of the cave had become veiled in rain, like a waterfall. The chill humidity dug into my fur, making me shiver even more.
"Kind of wishing she'd turned me into a water or grass type poke'mon," I muttered.
Another bang thrummed around me, but not from outside, and not thunder. It was a cascade of cracks and thuds, echoing up from behind me. Amidst it all my sharp hearing caught what could have only been someone's yell.
I jumped to my feet, my fur going on end. Behind me, the rest of the cave dipped off into darkness.
"Hello?"
But it had come from deeper within. The crackling thuds came to an end, leaving the pattering rain to fill in the silence.
I eyed the black warily. It could've been hiding anything. The only reason I hadn't paid it any mind was because the entrance was small and hadn't smelled of anything other than earth and that chalky mineral.
But if someone had been caught in a rock slide…
I gulped, reaching down to my stomach for my fire as I did so. Once I had my heat, I allowed it to broil out of my mouth and drop to the floor in steady streams of blue fire, which brought every divot and bump of stone as though a glowing body of water lit it.
Steadying my nerves, I lifted my tails high and went to the back of the cave, where I ducked down to carefully slide down a short incline into the darkness. Stones bit into my paws before crumbling away. Chalky stone indeed. A short trail of fire followed after me into the darkness before fizzling out into the cold.
I kept my eyes peeled for Zubat and the like, ready to flame down the little blood-suckers. Who knew, maybe they tasted like chicken. Had to start fending for myself somewhere.
The cave dropped down, sometimes abruptly into craggy, platform like steps, sometimes in gradual, gravely slopes. There weren't many stalagmites on the ceiling, though I did see them occasionally, along with their jutting out stalagtite(?) partners on the floor. Occasionally my fire would catch onto a bit of glitter. Soon the chalky smell surrounded me, pervasive as steam in a closed in bathroom, till I could practically taste it. Having never eaten chalk, I couldn't say that's what it was, though there was something salty and bitter about it that made me reconsider eating any Zubat I found in there.
Thunder from above hummed down through my toes. Soon, however, I was too deep for even that to reach me, and the silence pressed in on my ears like physical weights.
Soon, the constant use of my Will-o-Wisp had chased away the chill sleeping had brought in.
I could have only been in the cave for a quarter of an hour, at most, when my paws slipped near a particularly steep incline, sending round pebbles bouncing down. I leaned over the lip, letting drips of my fire fall after them and lighting up a sudden stop at the end where a pile of stone nearly blocked off the cave from going any farther.
My fire glinted off shiny metal. I thought I could see fingers.
"Arceus…" I breathed, sending several more drips of Will-o-Wisp before me as I set my first paw down. Despite my best efforts, I ended up sliding all the way to the bottom, stones scrapping past the back of my thighs and nethers.
Sure enough, a pair of dusted arms stuck out from the rubble. The gleam of metal had been two rings, one on each hand on the index finger.
A chill ran up my spine. Two rings. Short, flat fingernails.
I swore again, only to regret it as my fire bounced dangerously close to the hands. I looked around desperately for something I could light and saw a backpack, one of those tall, heavy-duty, serious adventure type backpacks leaning against the wall. Before I got too close, I sucked in my fire, letting pitch darkness as I had never known fall in around me as I nuzzled my nose into the pack and grabbed the first cottony thing I could find. What must have been a sleeping back slipped out with a rustle of polyester and rife with the smell of tea, thyme, and some unnamable musk. Once my back end hit wall, I got it into the best ball I could and then let my fire loose.
It took a minute, but eventually the fire caught on to the fluff and cotton within and brought the cave into orange and blue light, my flames changing color once they had something other to feed on. I wrinkled my nose as the burnt smell of plastic reached my nose.
"Okay, before it goes out."
I started at the top, using my back legs to push off larger stones enough to slide down the hill. Lucky for me, the chalky smelling stones were lighter than I expected, which also made them more brittle as I found, once I had kicked off a good the bigger ones, much of what was underneath had been crumbled to smaller bits and shale. Once I had enough off, I moved back to the bottom to put my front paws to work digging around the arms.
My breath blew away the dust on those long fingers. The color of the rings stones came out: blue and red.
Heart racing, I dug on.
In the dying light of my sleeping bag fire, a head of dirty, gray hair appeared, followed by what looked like a suit-coat.
"Arceus, please don't be dead…"
Patches of dust and gravel matted blood came away with the flat stones I pushed off from his head and face. His thick lashes looked like powdered fans against his dusted cheekbones. Even as I licked dust off his nose and mouth, I could feel the barest breeze of air.
Fire lower than ever, I dug faster, for once grateful for my quick working claws. Soon I had most of his torso free.
Just as I reached his belt loops, my sleeping bag fire gave one last flicker and oozed into curdled embers.
I cursed and felt back up to his face to lick it, ignoring the taste of blood and bitter chalk in hopes of waking him.
"Come on, weirdo dream guy," I blew across his eyes. "I can only do so much, you can't die here. What kind of anticlimax would that be? You've got to be some kind of wizard or magical destiny of mine, you can't just die—I'm already scarred enough as it is!"
A low groan broke through my tirade. With a yip of excitement I hadn't meant to make, I licked more furiously near his ear.
"Wha…what the—ow, hell…"
Heart near my throat, I backed up enough to let up another Will-o-Wisp, filling the cavern once more with light, just in time to see his eyes flicker. A fresh stream of blood broke loose from the dust around his hair to trickle down his freshly cleaned cheek.
Slowly, grimacing, his head slid up towards me.
"Who—who's there?"
He sounded awful. But the point was he was still making noise.
I pawed the floor anxiously, trying to think. If he could put his arms around my shoulders I could possibly pull him out, maybe even up this incline. Though he was still a grown man, and I wasn't the strongest thing ever, and I wouldn't be able to keep up my Will-o-Wisp without danger of burning him.
My thoughts paused momentarily as his eyes finally fell on me and froze. A sour scent my brain automatically filled in as fear bit through the chalky surroundings.
"What…what are…" his raspy voice faded away to a wheeze.
"No—no—no don't be afraid, I'm just—" I snapped my mouth closed as flecks of fire flew towards him from my breath.
But then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his lashes closed once more.
I scrabbled over with a squawk. My fire went out.
"No! No, I need you awake! Aw flipping Bidoof's ass…"
Guess it was back to the drawing board.
Or, in this case, the backpack.
I snuffled around it some more till I found a pocket filled with small, round balls with single buttons. Who would want to bet they weren't poke'balls?
Hoping with every hair on my tails that whatever was inside wouldn't eat me, I pulled out one in my teeth and set it between my paws. Once I had it turned around so the button faced away from my, I very awkwardly set a nail against the button. Once, the poke'ball enlarged to full size. Second, and lightning filled the cave, momentarily burning out my eyes and filling my nose with the pungent scent of metal, vinegar, and ammonia.
A rumble, like stone against stone, creaked before me, telling me that whatever had appeared before me was very large and very heavy.
I gulped, then carefully let my fire back out.
The darkness peeled back from a large, double-horned, metal behemoth who had electric blue eyes aimed down at me. It stood on two stout legs with the help of an armored tail to weigh it down.
I eyed it's heavy, short-clawed fists and felt my tails fight for the space between my legs.
"Um…uh…I did what I could to help your trainer…" Arceus, could my voice squeak any higher.
The metal monster gave me a slow blink before swiveling about the cave, instantly finding the downed man at his feet, still half covered in stone. It gave a short, gravely grunt of alarm and reached down, slinging aside the stones I could only scoot down like they were paper.
Within seconds he was free and lifted up from under his armpits by the beasts short, armored arms. One of his legs wobbled at the shin in a direction it shouldn't have.
I winced. "Be careful of his leg, it's broken."
It gave me a blank, look that could have said anything, just letting its trainer dangle at armslength from his chest.
After a second of not moving, the thought occurred to me that this huge thing might have been panicking, as the scent of fear had come back with renewed vigor.
"Now—now, it's okay. He's still alive and I now the way out of here." The poke'mon gave a rumble that almost sounded like a whimper. "Just hold him close. Put an arm under his legs. Careful now!"
With a ginger caution that looked misplaced on its thick, armored body, the poke'mon carefully shifted the unconscious ringed boy horizontal in its arms and against his chest, one arm beneath his shoulders and another under his knees.
I nodded before turning back to the backpack. It definitely took a good deal of work, and the metal monster next to me whined and whimpered like a bass-toned dog in the entire time my fire was out, but I eventually got the straps of the backpack over my neck and against my breast. I could just carry it, making me laugh at the idea of carrying the guy myself out of here.
"Alright," I dug in deep for my fire once more. "Let's blow this taco stand."