I awoke slowly. Not wanting to relinquish my grip on sleep, I kept my eyes closed. I noticed more warmth than my bed would naturally provide, and a slight pressure over my stomach.
That's strange, I thought, opening one eye a crack. Ack! It took all I had in me not to cry out.
Ziken was lying right next to me, his arm around me, too close for comfort. Then why do I feel so calm?
I tried to free myself gently, hoping he would stay asleep. My hopes were in vain. At my slightest movement he awoke, and, instead of jumping up and apologizing, his grip tightened and he smiled at me peacefully, untroubled at all.
"Let go!" I whispered, trying to break free.
"Not a chance," he whispered back, coming closer to me. "I am too cold, and you are too warm."
"You're pressuring me!" I cried quietly, hoping he'd let go at that.
My hopes were dispelled when he laughed silently and said, "You know what? Right now, I really don't care." He slid his other arm under my neck, pulling me closer than ever.
I frantically reached behind me for a giant leaf I had full of water for midnight thirst and dumped it all over him.
He shook himself and spluttered, "What happened?" Once he saw he backed away, pushing himself up against the empty air of the entrance to the den and fell over backwards.
I slid outside, shivering, walking over to and standing at the edge of the clearing. I turned to face him. "Well? Explain yourself!" I demanded.
"I – I'm sorry!" he spluttered, confused and now confronted. "I didn't know I was awake! I'm sorry!"
"So you thought it was a dream?" He flinched, and I knew why. If he thought it was a dream he had either had the same dream before, or he had been thinking about this recently, most likely before he fell asleep. I, however, remained cold and indifferent. "We are friends, nothing more, and I refuse to be anything more. If you want something more, go find yourself another Blaziken, in another territory, far, far away from mine."
He hung his head. "I'm sorry," he insisted, though submissively. "It wasn't a dream, I just wasn't fully aware yet, not responsible for how I acted. Please don't kick me out; I don't want to go back to the humans!" he sobbed suddenly, desperate to stay in the wild.
I eyed him angrily, then repented. "Alright, you can stay, though maybe we should have our own separate rooms." Fully aware that I wasn't even moving him to another den, and wary of my decision, I sighed and went back inside and began to dig.
"What are you doing?" he asked, coming inside.
"Well, you need a room, don't you?" I answered, and he joined me in digging. It took most of the day, and, while even stopping for lunch, we were still ravenous afterward and went our separate ways hunting, regrouping at the den at sunset.
Unbenounced to him, I had ended my hunting early to move a soft bed of dry, crackling leaves into his room, and one giant leaf, like mine, to hold water for him at night. I even took the liberty of filling them each with the clearest, freshest mountain spring water, from the falls nearby, where the melted snow ran into a small pond belonging to a Poliwhirl family (I got it before it reached the falls, at a bend in the creek above). When he moved into his room he was speechless, and for a moment I was proud of myself. It looked as though I had forgiven him for that morning, though I hadn't really, just tolerated his presence and thought that with his room fully equipped he would be less likely to move out, into the other room that I was in. Then he insisted on thanking me, which eventually got annoying. I settled down for the night.
The next day, a sudden roar of thunder woke me. I was a bit surprised, and Ziken, still half-asleep, dragged himself half-out of his room to ask me why I was stomping on his roof. A few seconds later he realized what he had said, blushed, saw the storm, groaned, and dragged himself back into his room. I settled myself into a comfortable position and prepared to wait out the storm, but fell asleep.
A few hours past what my stomach told me had been a wasted lunchtime, I awoke, completely and fully aware that I was alone in the den. I sat up, looked around, and Ziken suddenly rushed inside, out of the downpour, sodden and soaked but triumphant and holding many Berries that grew next to the clearing, in a nearby grove.
"Thanks, Ziken," I said gratefully, and he set the fruit down and shook his mane vigorously to get the water out.
"Thanks, Ziken," I said, this time a little less gratefully and a little more annoyed.
"Sorry," he replied sheepishly, and dove into a watermelon and a Berry that very much resembled a watermelon, the Watmel Berry.
I contented myself with a Berry that looked a bit like a star, all yellow and with five rounded points, a leaf and stem on the very top point. I bit into it. It was very good. It was sweet and tangy, a perfect blend, and I moaned contentedly as the juice ran into my mouth, some missing it and running down my chin. "Hey, Ziken, where'd you get this?"
He looked confused. "There were only two. I planted the other so it could grow back, and in this storm it should. What berry is it?"
"I dunno." I shook my head, juice running down my arm. I bent to lap it up. "It's delicious, though. Here, you deserve some." Breaking off the two remaining points, I jammed the middle into my mouth, only to discover an enormous pit. I placed the pit on the edge of my leaf full of mountain river water, hoping that we could plant it. I gave the points to Ziken, licking my beak and reaching for a Razz and Bluk. "These two Berries go great together, they grow in great quantities and a short four hours, and even the seeds are edible." I noticed he hadn't touched the chunks of the star-shaped Berry I had given him. "Come on, Ziken, try them."
He smiled at me, but then the smile dropped and he went back to staring at the fruit as though it were poisonous.
"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. This was not at all like him.
"I just can't shake the feeling that I shouldn't have touched that tree," he admitted. "Even if I did plant the other. These whatever-they-ares are new and suspicious and I'm just not sure if they belong here."
"Of course they do," I insisted, taking a small bite of both the Razz and the Bluk. I swallowed the delicious taste, then continued, "We may have just discovered it, that's all. Humans discover stuff all the time! Besides, it's really good."
He sighed, and took a small nibble of one. The next second he was jamming the fruit in his mouth ravenously, and decided to try the Razz-Bluk combination I had.
Little did I know that the fruit had been sent here, from some other dimension, directly for me and Ziken. Little did I know that I had just unwittingly bound our futures together.