Breakfast was finished, and Jack threw on the rest of his hunting gear. He was anxious about the day ahead of him, more so than Cleo. Wilson would not accompany him this time because Jack still insisted on bringing the Pokémon with him. That meant he had to carry more guns, and anything he would shoot and bring back would be heavier. Still, the grandson didn't want to chicken out the last second. Jack would go through with this as if it was the last thing he would do.
On went his thick outdoor clothes and his hat, leaving only the skin of his face exposed to the elements. He slapped on the chest holster, fully loaded Wilson's revolver, and went to get his Encore rifle. Jack inspected it with thoroughly and safely for any defects and loaded the six stock slots with bullets. The hunter felt pretty protected with the firepower he had to carry. Not to mention the natural-born hunting Pokémon he met and had a fuss over yesterday with Wilson.
"Well, I wish good luck for you," Wilson said as he gave a few strips of dry, tough jerky and some biscuits as field rations, "it's the least I can do."
It was to help keep him and Cleo going through the day. It would suck if Jack had to return just because his stomach begun to rumble right when he was on the verge of finding something. He started to feel like an army man, carrying guns and going on a mission to search and destroy any feasible game Pokémon he came across. This was starting to feel like what he imagined hunting would be from the get-go.
"Thanks for the food," Jack answered as he secured them in his pockets.
The young man gave an honorable nod as he double-checked the last of his gear before setting out with Cleo into the windy white lands.
And so Jack was now on his second official hunt, this time accompanied by the Sharp Claw Pokémon that quickly grew attached to him. Jack broke for the path he already took twice, partially obscured from midnight snowfall. As the outdoorsman passed the first few sets of trees retreading old ground, Jack reflected on the past twenty-four hours up here. He was entirely responsible for getting everybody roped into this situation by going out and bringing back the Weavile. His grandfather still held a grudge over Sharp Claw Pokémon in general and refused to tag with him during these hunting trips. Jack didn't have a seasoned trapper at his side that he could talk to and have his questions answered at any time; he was largely on his own. Going alone in arctic, hostile wilderness, with invisible winds blowing from behind, trying to sap his heat. It seemed like suicide.
The young man tried to spin it into being positive, gripping his Encore in frustration while stopped in the snow. He tried to reason with himself that he was the only one he could rely on at all times, that he couldn't always rely on Wilson to carry him through the woods. Jack tried to see this as a test of independence; how well he could fair without an expert guiding him, or holding his hand throughout the hunt. Now was a chance to be a hunter the dreamt of instead of tagging along and just following every move Wilson made. This was an opportunity to prove himself that he had his grandfather's blood in him for being an outdoorsman and that he could live up to the daydreams he had when he first arrived of being a macho-man hotshot by braving what the wild had to offer. It was scary and risky, sure, but Jack reasoned that's what he would need to grow and be forged.
But, should things go south and he runs into trouble…what if he was wrong about doing this?
The hunter didn't want to think about it. He continued to stand still like a statue and point his eyes at the snow covering the ground, deep in reflection. Jack Hotchkiss was still young and naïve, and he was beginning to accept it as he recalled something Wilson said before, something that matched up perfectly with how Jack was acting,
"Your fantasies of being a real man by going out there will be the death of you."
He quaked in his boots from the cold and regret. But there was a crucial detail the hunter had forgotten. A detail nudging him around the waist from the very tip of its crimson crown trying to pull him back into reality.
"[Are you okay?]" she mewled to Jack, a rare sign of sympathy and decency towards another, for her kind. Jack looked up from his meditation and looked around, unsure where he was. He suddenly felt something plush and feathery prod at his lower body again, causing him to look down at Cleo, staring back with a concerned but somewhat impatient look on her face. He had forgotten about her.
That Sharp Claw Pokémon was the reason for all of this. Cleo was the one that moved his heart and prompted him to reach out and help another when she was stricken with food poisoning. Jack reminded Cleo of herself, now that she thought about it. What with the infighting among his peer, how he was put in stressful situations, and learning how to fend for himself out here. Although she didn't know why she was following him around. Maybe because he brought her someplace new and didn't opportunistically finish her off while she was ill. Or, maybe Cleo knew that just about anything was better than going back and getting in another argument and then getting beat up with her "friends." Perhaps something else was the reason, which Cleo could sense something right and proper about the human that clicked with her, that she agreed with and didn't want to squander. If nothing else, it was a pleasant change of company.
And the Pokémon was still promised some action to feed her predatory nature of participating in hunting and getting her claws deep and dirty into other Pokémon she viewed as nothing more than fuel for her and her new accomplice's superior biological machinery designed solely to kill and reproduce. Cleo wasn't going to get any of that by standing in the snow waiting for Jack's fingers to fall off from wind-chill.
The young hunter was embarrassed at stopping in the snow when he should be moving, for neither of them found any other Pokémon to shoot yet. He knelt down and scratched Cleo behind the ear again to make up for his delay. Cleo titled her head to make it easier, loosening her up which in turn allowed the hunter to move again.
"Sorry 'bout that." he apologized and gave a piece of jerky to the Pokémon, greedily snatching it up and popping it in her mouth. It was quick dry and chewy to the Weavile, but her saliva started to draw out the flavor of the snack as she chewed. The jerky kept Cleo occupied for now, lest Jack would want to deal with some holes in his legs.
They kept on walking for a while; the armed man had forgotten that everything pretty much looks alike out here. There was nothing but white and faded gray-chocolate colors to make a crooked maze of dead trees. Especially as they came to a clearing, straying away from the dense hideout he and Wilson arrived at before. It was tough to make a note of any landmarks they passed, with the exception of a gradual, low-sloping hill that didn't feel like it was declining until they were already at the bottom of it. At least the sun's rays were hidden behind an endless patch of clouds, so they weren't snow-blinded. But everything looked exactly the same to the hunter.
Wait. If everything looked the same, and if he was to stay out here for most of the daylight hours…
…how would they find their way back?
Oh, but Jack thought he knew. Jack foolishly put his free hand on his mouth and sucked in a mouthful of cold air. His concentration was slipping, and he mentally smacked himself for worrying over something so fussy. The two of them had their footsteps to retrace, no big deal. But doubt didn't fully leave the boy's mind. What if it got dark, or snowed heavily and obscured their steps before they returned?
Jack gave an uncomfortable groan at the fear of getting lost. That was the last thing he wanted to do out here with not enough provisions to last a day. The hunter needed some sort of plan, or atleast some type of insurance.
The outdoorsman stopped and turned around to look at the trail he left. He was originally going to try to mentally retrace and map the path he took. However, a few dozen feet behind him was Cleo in front of a thick tree they passed, standing alone as the trees were sparsely populated in this area leading to low, rolling hills. The Sharp Claw Pokémon was busily working on something. He didn't hear it until now, but she seemed to be scratching the tree. But why?
"Er… Cleo, what are you doing?" asked Jack as he marched back towards the Sharp Claw Pokémon occupied with the tree. She finished her work right as Jack's shadow fell over her, and the outdoorsman pestered her with questions. Cleo stepped aside to reveal a very intricate symbol carved onto the tree, consisting of a large circle almost entirely filled with lines running across it, with a few scratches outside the circle. It almost resembled some sort of historical cult's emblem, but it was done surprisingly well. Cleo kept her mouth shut as Jack tried to interpret the symbol, soon catching on.
"Oooh, you're trying to map this out and leave markers for our way back."
He forgot from one of Wilson's ramblings that Sharp Claw Pokémon love to carve into things, not only to keep their nails pristine and sharp but also to communicate. Jack couldn't decipher the strange markings she carved…but Cleo could. She was the one keeping notes, thankfully.
"Come to think of it…" mused Jacked, "you also probably have some pretty acute senses compared to mine. If it gets dark, you could probably lead me back. And you could probably even lead me to something to shoot because it's still daylight. Huh, interesting…"
Cleo nodded, feeling a bit smug about her art and more so about her naturally keen senses. She scratched her chin and looked up at the tree she carved into, noting a clearing with an exceptionally thick branch thrown in. The corners of her lips were raised in intrigue as Cleo gave an affirmative "[Stay!]" whimper and started to scale the side of the tree. She climbed to the branch and perched on it, peering through the slits from other branches and looking down the low hill with intense eyes. She didn't see anything animate or distinct against the white backdrop, so she turned to focus on another portion ahead. Jack was captivated by Cleo's ability to climb and scout out the area, something he had no clue Sharp Claw Pokémon did.
It seemed to work out perfectly. Cleo could be the eyes, ears, and maybe the nose of the duo, while Jack was the brawn with his firearms to make the actual killing extremely efficient.
Unfortunately, there wasn't anything interesting that Cleo found from the vantage point. She climbed down disappointed. Jack was the opposite and complimented her while reaching for another piece of jerky,
"Quite intelligent, aren't you?"
Cleo looked up and had a smidgen of blush on her face from the compliment, understanding just enough from her mild comprehension of the human's tongue to hear it as a good thing. She began to pick up and piece together small phrases she overheard from Jack and Wilson's lengthy conversations the night before, understanding how they spoke and what they meant. And there was plenty of room for improvement for the Pokémon up until Cleo could effectively take orders and make good, coordinated judgment. Cleo started to be very thankful for the smarts her kind was notorious for, even if she wasn't always bringing in fantastic results with every move she made.
Being complimented made her feel more welcome to be at the hunter's side, something that was absent from her time in her pack. Especially when he was a reliable source of filling, tasty food instead of meager scraps.
"Well, let's keep moving. You keep carving and looking. I'll keep my gun ready."
It sounded like a plan.
The two kept hiking through the landscape, finding nothing but faded tracks that led to nowhere. Periodic stops where made for Cleo to carve a landmark into a tree and to try to pick up any peculiar scents while on the ground. Then she climbed the tree until she got to a proper altitude for reconnaissance. Jack trusted the Pokémon to lead him back with the trail of symbols through her night vision and memory for such things. It was still daring for the hunter, as they've been out here for hours and haven't found a damn thing. No other Pokémon besides them out here, steadily sapping Jack's morale for the day. Not to mention that he just scarfed down the last of the provision Wilson gave him, so now they were officially out of food. And the sun already seemed to be in its decline, beginning to drop and hide beneath the horizon. There was a tinge of darkness from the past-noon hours, making Jack worried.
Cleo was more disappointed than anything. If she was still alone, she could work at a much faster pace and already picked something up. Of course back then, she was sick and had no clue what her chance of survival was if she was not found. The human did provide a reliable source of food for her back at the cottage, anyway. And she spent a lot of time with him now. Cleo didn't feel like it was right breaking off and becoming a loner after what Jack did for her.
They were now at a near-invisible slope in Arceus-knows-where, back in the woodlands. Cleo continued her carve and climb routine, which Jack kept his hopes up for in being rewarding despite costing them time and ground covered. The hunter's realization of chasing some futile was dawning on him. Today was turning out to be a total wash to both of their disgust. But still, the hunter kept moving on, passing through more trees glazed with ice and frost-caked soil as daylight started to die out.
Eventually, the hunter sat down to one of the barren trees the Weavile carved a sign into, feeling like he wasted his time. He rested his chin upon his left knuckle again and dropped his gun at his side, trying to draw more positives from this overall empty hunting trip as he listened to the distant sound of a running river. Cleo caught up to him and patiently waited in front of him, giving him some mental material to work with on what to take away from this day.
Well, he learned some things about Cleo he didn't before, like her skill in climbing trees to scout from above. That was certainly impressive to the hunter. And he was given a chance to prove himself independently; there was that as well. But why must he return empty-handed, why was there not a single soul to find out here besides the hunting duo? It just did not seem fair to the young man.
An exceptionally bitter gust of air pierced him, making him shiver in the ice. Cleo was hardly affected by it, taking it as comfortable as a warm spring breeze. He looked to his left, the direction the wind blew; behind him all day. The same direction he came from, leaving behind an indentation in the snow with every step.
Then it hit him, and he felt like an absolute moron for not realizing it before:
Because he forgot to spray himself with the masking scent, the wind behind him carried his natural scent across the landscape, alerting distant and potential Pokémon in his path that something foreign and potentially dangerous was coming in that direction, forcing them to relocate out of instinct. At least, that is what he thought; it could have been another issue entirely that was hidden his lack of experience.
Jack cursed loudly out of disgust for not realizing a vital detail in the hunting process. He thought he had everything planned out perfectly, and that today he would track, shoot, and recover a good game Pokémon, only to find that he was set up for failure from the get-go. Cleo gave an oblivious "Vi?" whimper, trying to figure out why Jack was upset. Jack looked at the Pokémon with a fed-up face,
"I forgot to hide my scent with his spray, and all day the wind blew my scent all over the place, alerting Pokémon to where I was, and probably yours too. If I didn't forget, they would've thought we were any other Pokémon in the area, and not care or scurry out a mile before I arrive."
He shook his head in disgust, growling under his breath at a novice mistake, or at least the one he thought was most plausible. And he was in the middle of nowhere, freezing on the spot and daylight rapidly running out. He picked up his gun and brushed the snow off his clothes, still not happy with how it went.
Then came more of the expert's advice, surfacing from his memory to help him come to terms with today's results:
"Often times you will come back empty-handed. But it's all about that one trip where you find, shoot, and recover a Pokémon. If a day turns out to be a fluke, use it as an opportunity to figure out how to make the next one better."
Wilson was right. He shouldn't be expecting every day to be a success like he envisioned from the beginning. Hunting was a sport about patience where the one payoff comes at the one Jack finally finds and manages to bring down after who knows how many attempts. Today was simply not that day. The outdoorsman took a deep breath and looked at the sky, being somewhat at ease from its brilliant, rosy-pink and gradual gold gradient blending perfectly across the sky from now broken-up clouds, indicating that it was about to turn dark soon.
Jack ultimately accepted that today was a fluke and that he would have to take and learn something constructive from this day to aid him on the next hunt. He made a vow to make sure he'd give himself a hearty coating of the masking spray so the wind wouldn't betray his location to Pokémon with better noses than him miles away. More importantly, he now knows that what Wilson said about hunting and patience was true. The novice must learn not to get mad when expeditions only result in a lot of exercise.
"But just remember this, Jack: not every day is successful. Hunting is a sport of patience."
He was going to take all of Wilson's advice about the sport itself to heart, and never get too overconfident that any day will be his big break. Tomorrow was simply another chance to make things work with Cleo, another opportunity to take a different path and see where it will take him.
Also, might be a good idea to keep the gun holstered until he needed it drawn instead of always gripping it in his hands, ready to go off at a moment's notice from aggravation.
For now, all he was concerned about was getting back to Wilson's warm cottage. The hunter holstered his Encore and fumbled around in the many pockets of his coat. A small, black flashlight was brought out and turned on to help him get back. It wasn't much, but it was better than being blind. He turned to the Sharp Claw Pokémon,
"What do you say we get going?"
Cleo gave an affirmative cry. The two of them made a dash back to where they started.
He got about two-fifths of the way back before the sun dipped under the horizon, quickly casting an umbra sky over their heads. Worst of all was that the clouds started to congregate and precipitate, concealing the moon and raining heavy flakes of ice. His old tracks were getting readily covered up, and it was getting even colder, making his teeth chatter even while running through the wild and getting his blood madly pumping. The outdoorsman started to panic, fearing he may have gotten lost. The flashlight was being waved back and forth out of uncertainty to make it harder for him to backtrack from the prints he left. He was forced to stop and calm his breathing, making him look at the black and brumal sky in vain.
Right behind him was nocturnal Pokémon trying to not giggle at the human getting lost in the dark.
"[Getting tired, huh?]" called Cleo behind him, having no problem seeing in the night with her characteristic night sight. She almost sounded amused by the human's plight of getting lost in the biting wilderness. Jack turned around, shining a light at the Weavile, making her close her eyes and turn her head away to comfortable readjust. The hunter struggled to tell where her dark body started and ended with the light, but there was a very distinctive red shine from her eyes when he pointed the flashlight at her, like a flawless ruby.
Jack suddenly got an idea. Cleo would lead on, and he would follow. If she got too ahead of herself, she'll turn around and let him catch up by following the reflection from her tapetum lucidum, the tissue in her sharp eyes responsible for those nightly, devilish reflections. It was better than fumbling around blind and alone during a snowstorm. It would be his only guiding light back to Wilson's sanctuary.
"Those eyes," quivered Jack in the numbing arctic night, "That sh-shu-shine… you can l-lead me back. You know the w-way, understand me enough t-to want to bring me back."
The nocturnal Pokémon scratched her chin before she caught on to what the hunter was talking about. Then it came to her, and she smirked at the plan. She remembered those daunting eyes other Pokémon had in the night, especially other Sneasel and Weavile. The only things anything could see where those spectral, spooky pair of eyes glowing in the night, staring and plotting. She didn't have much issue seeing in the dark, but he did.
Cleo went ahead, being a better guide now it was night. The human followed her with the light stuck on her, trying his hardest to track the elusive and dark-furred figure back to shelter. She remembered where she left the odd carvings and retraced their steps, thankfully for what the other Weavile had taught her. Every so often, she stopped again, turning towards Jack with her reflective eyes and calling to him. He could spot the ruby sheen without much hassle, guiding him closer towards Wilson's cabin. This went on for longer than Jack would've liked in any capacity, underestimating how far he traveled, and how slow the return trip was.
The Sharp Claw Pokémon was highly entertained of escorting the blind hunter through the woods while also being on the lookout for any other nocturnal, opportunistic predator. She was putting her acute senses to the best possible use for Jack's survival. After all the walking they two of them had to do, she welcomed any sort of fun, even if it was a little antagonizing to the human. If not for Cleo, Jack would be forsaken out here; left for dead.
The hunter thought the whole thing was supernatural, dreamy, even. A dream he'll wake up from when he gets to the end of this black, twisted road of ice and find out he was in the sanctuary of Wilson's cottage all along. Jack also realized how tired he was getting, beginning to get hard for him to walk through the compacted, ever-growing precipitation. But pangs of uncertainty and instinctual fear of the frozen dark remained in his gut, forcing him to continue no matter. Jack persisted through the many cries of "[This way!] [Here here!] [Follow me!]" from his Weavile companion guiding him back to safety through the signs she carved, wishing every second that it would end.
Eventually, Cleo stopped and looked ahead, catching a curious glimmer of golden-white rays up ahead. She called to the hunter with certainty that it was almost over. Jack went a few steps further and saw the glimmer enter his vision that was hiding behind a few invisible trees. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief that the trip would almost be over, that he finally got to the light at the end of the wide-open tunnel.
"Fucking finally!" Jack exasperated as he and Cleo made the last few dashes towards the open landscape, following the growing light to the cottage. Soon there was enough light that Jack could see where he was going with Cleo's guidance. He found himself in the open clearing surrounding the cabin, where all that was left was a straight line to Wilson's warm sanctuary. Jack spat and made a full on sprint for the last part of the return trip, panting heavily at the door, feeling miserably chilled to the bone.
Jack entered the cabin, holding the door open just long enough to let in the giggling Weavile, and slamming it shut. There stood Wilson in his hunting gear by his bed, almost ready to go out and look for Jack. He stared at his grandson and the Pokémon, heavily rimed. Both looked like they shredded some old couch cushions while covered in glue for a comedy sketch.
"Jack!" cried Wilson in relief, "I was worried about you! I was just about to go out and try to find you. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, of course I am," murmured Jack through chattering teeth. "I j-just came back after running through a blizzard at night."
Wilson's face grew sour at his grandson and the Weavile that he brought with him.
"You know, if you didn't bring that Pokémon with you instead of me, we'd probably find something out there and have returned much sooner. But no, you gotta go out there with a Weavile of all things."
Jack menacing glared at Wilson.
"Yeah? You just said earlier that not every trip is successful. That it's a sport of patience. Sometimes you get lucky and shoot something, other times you don't. It sure as shit would not have made a difference if you went with me today! We still would've found nothing, and probably still had to run through a blizzard!"
"Boy, don't you-"
"Next time tell me to come back sooner before the sun sets, and I have to follow a Pokémon back home. Tomorrow's another day. At least she grew up in this environment, and knows her way around by instinct and how to lead me back to where we started from, even if the two of you don't like each other."
The rest Wilson's pleas were ignored by the exhausted young man as he saw the Weavile give him a small, cocky, "I told you so." smile like she was responsible for something. And she was looking a little tired, too. The older hunter didn't bother pursuing any more questions about his grandson and the Pokémon he brought with him.
Maybe they were more useful than Wilson thought.