What wonderful readers I have! Already 46 of you, and though you guys haven't left me an encouraging note or anything, I still want to keep going. If you like a particular story or character and want me to either continue their lives or add them in an important plot scene, go ahead and say so. So once more, thank you for reading and please enjoy today's chapter.
Man and pokémon soon arrived at a village; small huts, arranged in a semi-circle and facing the nearest Border; a precaution necessary if the villagers were to defend themselves. The young boy was towing a large purple animal behind him, its poisonous horn severed and left in the forest behind them. The nidoran was dead-eyed, trudging. It knew that death awaited, but couldn't fight the impulse to surrender to a superior force. Mental ability had defeated strength... for now.
The villagers were surprised by the boy's victory, but cheered and gathered around the beast with high spirits. They would feed well for a week, the boy and his family receiving the best parts. The shaman was disappointed that the horn had already been removed, abandoned, but cheered when he sliced the other spikes from its body. The nidoran roared in agony as it was cut, but the humans ignored its suffering.
"Food... already. Tomorrow. Nidoran, tomorrow," the chief grunted to the boy. "Feed... feed, eat tomorrow."
The boy nodded solemnly and dragged the creature away.
It was forced into a dark cave, the opening blocked up and weighed down by a heavy rock. Even the nidoran's great strength could not break open the stone cage; even if it broke out of apathetic misery.
The boy hesitated and shoved several handfuls of dried grass in with the purple animal.
The nidoran was stunned by this tiny show of sympathy- it felt something warm and unusual curl in its black heart. The stone closed over the cave again, and the pokémon thoughtfully munched on the grass with its grinding teeth.
The villagers feasted upon a tauros that had been bravely slain by one of the warriorwomen of the tribe. The boy happily ate his share and paused; there was too much for everyone, and some would get wasted. He didn't know if it was right, but something in his heart curled up in cold at the thought of leaving his catch without food until it was eaten.
The boy stole some meat and hid it in his shirt. No-one noticed.
"Nidoran. Nidoran," the boy whispered and levered the great stone from the cave. The nidoran sleepily opened its eyes and stared at the boy. It started back when he threw pieces of meat to it, but the familiar smell quickly reassured it and the nidoran tore the food to pieces.
The boy watched, a sense of accomplishment falling on his thin shoulders.
The nidoran swallowed its meal and glanced at the boy hungrily. The boy used his stick to hit the nidoran over the head. "No. Bad."
Nidoran looked back down, but its ears pointed backwards in pleasure.