I'd like to say that I'm real sorry for the changes that I'll be making to this story. After having read the old version, I find it jarring and uncomfortable, and largely unsatisfying. Hence, I've gone and made revisions to it, and after having put more thought and effort to it, I only hope that it can be a more satisfying read for you too.
"It's cold, it's cold..."
Within the thicket on the outskirts of Snowpoint, where great evergreens tower above, that was all that escaped my chattering teeth as I trudged through the unexpected blizzard. Living in Snowpoint, to not see any snow on any particular day would be cause for distress. It would mean some horrid drastic thing happened for the cold winds that eternally blow down snow from high up to cease. That day however, it was especially fierce. Forceful gales burned away at my face, and whipped my hood around forcing me to pull onto it to prevent them from being ripped off. The storm screamed in my ear, overpowering even the violent rusting of conifer pines. The worst of it however was how much precipitate just poured down onto my head. On an otherwise average day, these forests would be teeming with the indigenous ice-types, but on that day, even the native Piloswine would be hard pressed to set a foot out in this dreadful weather, making the forest have the atmosphere more akin to the barren wastes of Route 217.
And yet, with dinky camping lamp barely lighting my way in this obscuring tempest, I trudged through the snow, intent on finding a nice looking conifer to chop down to sell. It was nearing end of month and I accidentally blew my cash to fix my beloved accordion. So if all I had to do was brave a single storm, then I would gladly head into it. But with how bad vision was getting, I might just have no choice but to head back lest I end up a frozen mummy. Better hungry than dead.
"Another hundred steps in this crap before I head back." I said to no one in particular and began counting. 1,2,3... By step 31, I began to notice that the wind was dying down, and that the snow ahead wasn't piled as high. Thanking Jirachi for a wish granted, I pressed forward, chancing upon a clearing with just the perfect tree smack dab in the center. Smirk on my face, I eyed that beau of a tree and readied my axe. However, no sooner than I made my first step forward did a small figure appear from the tree line opposite to me. Afraid that it might be a hostile Pokemon, or worse, a ranger, I switched my lamp off and hid behind the nearest tree, peeking out ever so slightly to keep track of it. The shadow, visible only by the snowflakes stuck on its body reflecting trace amount of light, slowly made its way to the center tree, and stopped. All the snow and wind froze midair, then collected beneath the tree to burst upwards, turning the conifer's cone upside down. This blew a slit through the clouds above to let a sliver of moonlight through, giving the clearing a dim glow. Flakes blown off the tree left suspended in the air shimmered in the moonlight, making the dark clearing light up like the night sky.
Whilst I was distracted by the lightshow, the figure had moved to the tip of the pine, and it was only by luck that I caught sight of it plummeting into the fresh powder below. This kicked up a screen of flakes, from which it burst out of with tremendous speed, up into the air on a magical zephyr, leaving pixie dust as it went. It whooshed above my head and carried on in a cyclone, circling the clearing, closing in on the tip of the conifer with each lap round. When it reached the apex of its incline just above the tree, the figure balled itself up into a glittering jewel of ice, and burst into a firework. The clouds above which twisted downwards into the cyclone burst away to reveal the full moon, shining in all its glory. It illuminated the clearing, revealing what lay before me.
A pleasant dream of fairies floating on the breeze, wherever it may take them, joined by stars that jived and winked in the dark backdrop. All along with man in the moon smiling down upon it. The one responsible for all of it sat on the conifer's peak, smirking in satisfaction upon the scene it had made, and the one who did it all was, a Sneasel? Sure, it was most certainly an ice-type, what with the masterful manipulation of the element, but I figured it was a more graceful Pokemon. Example, a Froslass, famed, or perhaps notorious for their ice-sculptures and blizzards. Sneasel however were not at all known for the arts, not in the slightest. Travelers to Snowpoint were always warned to keep wary of roaming Sneasel. They were some of the most ferocious battlers, with razor sharp claws in perfect marriage with swift reflexes, they were the area's apex predators. Especially since they hunted in packs. There is many a good reason the Snowpoint gym is one of the last few on the circuit, and Sneasel were one of them. So to see one not simply alone, but putting on a stunning show, all for its own satisfaction? That's never been heard of.
While I was monologuing, the Sneasel, with her characteristic short feather, had already finished admiring her work, and was back on the ground. She spun around, grinning at the fluttering flakes, then held out her claws, as if daintily holding another. She closed her eyes, and begun to snarl out what might be a song. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, her footsteps made regular beats. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, she spun on her toes. It was a waltz, a solo waltz, and I came out into the clearing, hypnotised. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, I caught myself tapping along to the beat. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, my eyes followed her every sway, every swing. Finally, the waltz was coming to an end. Her snarls and growls were growing softer, as she made her final spin, stopping to bow to her non-existent audience. Still in a trance, I applauded.
Her ear feather pricked up, and she turned to face me. Slowly, methodically, robotically, she turned, eyes wide in fright and tears welling up. She bit her bottom lip, likely to keep her self from screaming. This was a major fuck up on my side.
"Look, Ms Sneasel, I realise this is quite the compromising situation we have found ourselves in, but would you mind," before I could end my sentence, there was already a deep gash just above my head in the tree trunk.
"Would you keep your coll perchance?" I croaked it out, hoping to appeal to her reason, or at least confuse her for long enough to get away, but she was not taking none of it. Her eyes focused on me, laser precise, and it stopped me in my tracks. I was sure it wasn't "Scary Face" being used, heard from one of them breeder types on the telly that Sneasel can't learn it, but that look sure was super effective. She pointed her dagger-like claw my way then hissed at me something in her language. My suspicions of what she uttered was confirmed when she made a slashing motion across her own neck with that claw that glistened under the moonlight. She crouched down into a pouncing position, eyes kept firmly on me, and leapt, screaming out her warrior cry. That surely broke me from my stupor, and I ducked in time for her to sail past me into the tree. It was high time for me to high tail outta here, and I narrowly escaped a vicious slash.
As I pumped my legs through the snow, the great snarl from that itty-bitty Sneasel behind me was surreal. The scene that unfolded would have been a right sight for any lucky onlookers, because it was that snarl that sent me sprawling to the ground for cover, and to crawl through the snow in a desperate bid to put as much distance between me and that scorned beast. She was relentless, letting lose what might be her whole repertoire of moves. Ice shards flew all around me, sticking into the trees I've been using for cover. The wind picked up and obscured my vision with powder. I even saw a dark pulse or two come close. Where I was running to, I didn't really know, so thank fuck that there were some lights in the direction I was going, and I made haste towards safe haven.
Just as I was leaving the forest, she decided to send me a final parting gift, an ice shard that cut my left arm some. I swiftly hid behind the sturdy marble pillar of the temple when the Sneasel began snarling and growling all sorts of what I believe to be profanities, then vanished back into the night. My arm was cut with surgical precision. The slash was a thin line, but the blood that flowed through was quite a bit, and it stung like hell. Damned Sneasel really lived up to their reputations, yet, now sitting in relative calm, I reflected back at how she seemed to hold back, more like she was trying to chase me away than harm me. Even this cut seemed more like a calculated warning than poor aim. Sure she was ferocious, but I was sure if she truly desired for it, I would have been naught but ribbons. Her performance was testament to that. Most of all was the performance, wild Sneasel don't waltz, Gardevoir do, Froslass could, any of the stereotypical pretty Pokemon would, but not Sneasel.
"Curious. Utterly curious. Never going back though." Just because she had been merciful did not mean that I ought to indulge in my curiousity. I was not going to test her limits.
"Who goes there?"
A light shone out, and turned towards me, effectively blinding me. I squint and hiss in response, raising my hands up to block some light.
"Vince? That you again? I've told you over and over again, ever since you arrived, this is not a public... What happened to you?" Temple guard Em shrieked.
"You happen to have bandages Em?" I raise my bleeding arm to her.
"Right! Yes!" Em went scampering to get the stuff and came back. I reach out for the cotton wool, but she smacks my hand away and begins patching up my wound.
"So, what happened?" She asked while cleaning the wound.
"Sneasel." I replied simply.
She nodded in empathy. It was commonsense. She applied a prodigious amount of antiseptic, making the cut burn. She caught onto my arm with her talons, and asked again, not in a friendly manner mind you. "And what was it that made you meet this Sneasel?"
She was grinning all Meowth-like, and I was definitely not going to risk lying to her. That said, I upturned my lips a tad, closed in my shoulders to appear smaller, and looked up to her a tad, hopefully cushioning the impact my words would have.
"I wanted a nice tree?"
She replied by tightening the bandage a tiny bit too tight.
"Aaggh! Good Lord I can't feel my blood flowing!"
"You should know that the forest is hands off! Nature sanctuary! You were caught and warned the last time! Do you want to go to prison? Do I need to get Candice on your case?"
That shut me up. I stilled my mouth and just shook my head vehemently.
"Good. Seeing as you don't have a tree, or your axe, I'm going to let you off, this last time. Next time however, that. Is. It. Capisce?"
I nod, agreeing one hundred percent with her. Straight-laced Em is horrifying, learned that my first day landing on the shores of Snowpoint. Suppose that's what made her a good temple guardian.
She let me go, after properly bandaging me, and I headed back to the dock worker dorms. As I lay in my cot, staring up at the peeling ceiling, I began to scheme. I needed that axe back. I'd forgotten it so conveniently up till Em reminded me of my lack of it. Sure, my tree chopping days are definitely over, what with Em's patience for my misdemeanours likely dried up, but that axe wasn't mine, I still needed to get it back. But not just that, I was still enraptured by that Sneasel. That little ball of teeth and claws. Sure she was a terror, but she was also one of the most skilled ice-type I'd ever seen, playing with the element with more control than even the gym trainer's Pokemon. She was an exhilarating watch, more so than Candice's battles. And most of all, I thought she was quite reasonable. While I certainly never wanted to meet her ever again, on the off chance I do, I'd be ready. With her in my head, I fell asleep, dreaming dreams of glittering snowfall.