Excited squeaks and bouncing abound as the ragtag group of six fuzzy insectoids make their way across the valley's lowlands.
The youngest adult of the mountain pack, Thumpy, was quite eager to please. He had quickly volunteered for the exciting, important task - to help teach the next generation the ins and outs of hunting. Indeed, the elders had even let him go alone!
His wings thump happily as he glances over his shoulder at the throng of Larvesta lazily trailing behind him. All of them are just as excited as he is, he hopes - though if they could stop tumbling over one another and fighting along the way, it'd be ideal. Thrice, he's had to stop to recollect one of the small ones, as they had gotten distracted, and nearly wandered off.
He shakes his head slowly - they may not understand, but this is important! As such, he lets loose a low growl, enough to nearly immediately jolt the misbehaving young to attention.
Sheepishly, the five line up behind him, tilting their heads in curiosity.
With the young gathered and at attention for now, Thumpy sniffs the ground, taking in the earthy scents of the soil below. The young are too small, too helpless - too innocent - to hunt any real prey, so he focuses, trying to find the perfect prey to whet their talents upon.
Finally, his nose picks up the scent he was searching for - a rich, earthy scent of faint rot.
The thumping of his wings picks up as he lets out a deep chirp, before once again collecting the young, who had already begun to wander off. In fact, one had even begun to dig, coating herself in dirt in the mere moments he was looking away. She looks back up at him with complete innocence, only marred by the mud entirely coating her face. No thoughts flicker behind the glassy, adorable stare.
Letting loose a commanding boom, easily understandable as an order to follow, Thumpy quickly lumbers along the scent trail, eager to arrive before it goes cold.
The young exchange glances for a moment, before all making the equivalent of a group shrug, and tumbling after their excited superior.
Perched atop of a hill, Thumpy points out the prey to the young huddled on and around him - a fairy ring of Foongus, resting in the midday shade of a cliffside.
Small, slow, and generally helpless, Thumpy distinctly remembers his own hunts against these creatures - even when he himself was small. An easy fight, and even better, prey unable to evade a determined Larvesta, let alone harm them in return.
Letting loose a quiet chirp, (which in truth is still rather loud), he ushers the young forwards.
Slowly, the young dismount and crest the hill, trying to make sense of the new scene -
At least before one of them emits a sharp, excited squeal, and rushes forwards at top speed. The others perk up nearly immediately after, rushing after their self-declared leader.
Thumpy merely takes a seat atop of the hill, content to watch the young show their stuff. He doubts he'll need to interfere, but just in case, he is content to watch. Happiness fills him, glad to watch the young learn -
The closest Larvesta to the hapless fungus closes the distance, quickly reaching biting range, before instead leaping into the air.
Letting loose a squeaky warcry, the airborne larva strikes the Foongus from above, throwing their entire weight into the creature's cap.
SPROING!
And the momentum is immediately directed back upwards, launching the now-squealing Larvesta straight up.
Thumpy blinks, unsure of what exactly he's seeing. This confusion doubles, once the other young follow the first's example, joining them upon the top of a Foongus each.
Why aren't they hunting?! They should be doing what they're told! This isn't playtime!
SPROING! SPROING! SPROING!
Instead, the juveniles are… bouncing, atop of the Foongus. They chirp and squeak, occasionally doing little flips in the air, as the unfortunate pokemon below them are forced to shoulder the burden.
Grumbling, Thumpy slowly descends the hill, closer to the young. At first, anger comes to the adult's mind, despair at having his task fail so utterly… But by the time he fully arrives, any sort of fury has long faded. Instead, he merely sits down nearby, watching the young ones enjoy themselves. Part of him wishes he could do this, back when he was small.
SPROING! SPROING! SPROING!
A low rumbling from nearby draws the watching adult's attention.
Emerging from the ground slowly, a far larger mushroom breaks through the dirt, rising and rising, until it reaches his own head level.
Shaking dirt off of its two-meter-tall frame, the fully grown Amoongus lets loose a roar, shaking its moss-covered cap in rage.
With speed contradictory to its appearance, the fungus pokemon quickly turns its eyes to the Larvesta so blatantly disrespecting its charges, drawing back, puffing up and up and up…
Before blowing a cloud of glowing golden spores in their general direction. The hazardous stun spores drift slowly on the wind, quickly closing the distance, intent on paralyzing the intruders -
The Larvesta merely blink, as the golden spores cling to their dense fluff, unable to penetrate their coats. Pausing their bouncing for but a moment, they exchange glances with one another, before continuing what they were doing, unperturbed.
The Amoongus blinks, bewildered that its dangerous, debilitating attack wasn't merely dodged, but flat out ignored. Fully unaware of the Volcarona watching it with a tilted head.
Slowly, Thumpy glances between the Larvesta bouncing upon the Foongus… and the Amoongus, larger, stronger, and looking about the same.
His wings begin to beat faster.
To the Amoongus's credit, it's able to let loose a gurgling cry of dismay and surprise just in time - before a fully grown Volcarona flings itself onto its cap.
SPROING!
Thumpy lets loose a roar of jubilation, echoed by cries from the young now watching excitedly. Though far larger and heavier than he was before his evolution, he's having a great time.
SPROING!
The Amoongus groans as the great weight bounces off of it again. It lets loose a noise not unlike that of a leaking balloon, already looking a bit out of shape.
The Volcarona looks down at its feet, ready to land once more -
CRONCH POOF
Only to land on solid ground instead, with only a very thin, and a very, very flat Amoongus below him.
In an instant, it's as if a volcano had erupted, spraying spores and fluff everywhere. The young lean back, cooing at the light show as the various spores form a multicolored cloud which slowly drifts along the wind.
Thumpy blinks, finding himself painted every color of the rainbow. He quickly attempts to shake himself off, causing another spray of hues to fly out, but unfortunately he's so thoroughly coated that nothing short of a soak in the river would be able to remove it all.
The young probably need baths too - though knowing them, they're definitely going to hate it.
Out of the corner of his eye, the adult watches the very flat Amoongus slowly dig back underground to safety, out of his reach. Sure, he could dig it back up in its weakened state… But they aren't very good eating, anyway.
Still, with the Amoongus' departure, the young eventually grow bored with harassing the fungus Pokemon, gently hopping off, and letting their captive toys burrow underground to finally find relief. Chirping at their caretaker, it's then that he remembers that… right, they were supposed to be hunting.
With his first option failed, Thumpy grumbles as it tries to remember another adequate prey.
Before nodding. Perhaps… Yes, that will do. They should be around this time of year, anyway!
Raising himself back to the feet, Thumpy begins to walk off towards a new destination.
As the young follow, eager to find the next fun thing, a great bulk peeks out from behind the cliff face, hidden from view from the others.
The older, more experienced Volcarona shadowing the group merely rolls their eyes. Kids will be kids, it seems. Even if they themselves had grown up a bit in the meantime.
The hapless prey screeches in terror as the gigantic monster flails it about, determined to snap its spine.
Growling in dark fury, the monster isn't even content in crushing it, ending its suffering - only prolonging what should have been a few moments, a single bite…
The creature's few attempts to sting its captor had failed. Now, it can only wait for the end.
Thumpy stares with a mixture of disappointment and confusion at the vicious Larvesta going at it.
On one hand, he is hunting… On the other…
Rrrrrrrr-rrrrrr
Flailing a hapless Wurmple about in his jaws, attempting to snap its non-existent spine, the bloodthirsty Larvesta is putting on a show of dominance. Every move is exaggerated, every noise loud and clear, trying desperately to underline just how tough they are.
Too bad that, besides Thumpy, no one else is watching. They all have far more interesting things to do.
Nearby, the other juveniles have scattered. One Larvesta is currently cowering away from a Silcoon, and another is asleep under a tree. At the very least, one of the five is chasing after another fleeing Wurmple with a manic expression.
Oh, and the dirty one is only visible by the tip of her tail, as she is currently nearly fully burrowed into the ground. Happy squeaks echo out of the hole, at least confirming that she is alright.
Thumpy groans in frustration. No attempts to coach, discipline, or even direct these unruly children has succeeded, and now he sits, tired and upset at having failed.
Flopping to the ground, the defeated adult merely watches the young scurry about, only raising his head to watch the filthy Larvesta slowly pull a large tuber, nearly as filthy as they are, out of the hole. Well, at least someone was productive.
Quickly fleeing to safety with their new prize, the filthy Larvesta moves to a bush, cronching away at their earthen treat. The sleeping Larvesta startles awake, at audible the promise of food, but a quick glance around reveals none to be at hand, and as such, sleep once more takes priority.
Thumpy huffs once more. He'll give them until the sun begins to set - then they'll return to the pack, whether they succeeded or not. Though they haven't really learned much, he is not too stubborn to forget the ever-present threat of a nocturnal, long-haired Jigglypuff deciding to make a meal of a helpless, innocent - and at the moment, quite irritating Larvesta.
With his head hung low, Thumpy trods back to the pack's temporary dwelling. Nestled in his fluff are the sleeping young, all tuckered out from their activity. Amoongus spores still glimmer in the light, clinging stubbornly to the moth pokemon.
He sighs, glancing up at the sky. He tried so hard, just to fail? It doesn't seem fair. Still, he tried his best, he thinks, and trods onwards, unperturbed.
Closer and closer, he stomped towards the pack's camp, dreading the reveal of his failure more and more.
Finally, he reaches the clearing, easily denoted by a ring of grass stomped flat by feet, under the shelter of a large tree.
The other adults watch him with anticipation as he arrives, carrying the future generation of hunters and protectors upon his back. The generation younger than that, of course, are happily nestled against their family, dead to the world and snoring along.
Gently, Thumpy lowers his belly to the grass in the center of the camp, and shakes himself, causing another light dusting of spores to fall from his body, as well as rouse the little ones riding on his back. Letting out a few happy squeaks at being home, they jump off, fully unaware of the trouble they had caused.
With a defeated sigh, Thumpy shows submission, rolling onto his side to show his stomach and failure.
There's a few moments of silence.
Before chuffs and snorts break out all around, coming from the very same adults that should've been punishing, or at least chastising him!
One of Thumpy's eyes slowly opens, to confusedly glance around. None of his elders seem angry, upset… or even like they care at all?
Snorting happily, the Alpha of the group steps up to him, looking him into the eye… before lightly tapping his belly with an extended foot.
Thumpy merely blinks, unaware of the meaning. It's a soft touch, one that urges him to sit up, rather than continue lying down.
The Alpha chuffs again. How could Thumpy ever possibly succeed at teaching the little ones, if he was just as much of a problem when he was small?
Thumpy pauses, unsure of the meaning.
The Alpha grumbles, easily understandable. All Larvesta are just completely un-trainable. Nothing short of a miracle could ever get them to sit still to learn.
There's another pause.
Oh.
Thumpy slowly rolls back onto his belly, bewildered and confused.
This… was a setup then? He thinks for a moment… trying to remember how he was as a Larvesta -
Only to blink.
Right. He was just as bad. He distinctly remembers chewing an adult's neck temporarily bald during his attempts to teethe.
Sheepishly, the youthful adult stares back.
Letting out the bug equivalent of a group laugh, the others trod forward to show him a bit of sympathy - the first experience as a real adult is always the hardest.
So they just shoved him into the deep end to understand, just as they had been when they were in his place.
Sighing, but now mollified that he hadn't failed too badly, Thumpy slowly trods towards a spot under the tree. Successful or not, he is quite tired.
And so, with a final yawn, the day of hunting draws to a close.
In the end, who are the only true winners of the trip? The Foongus. For in the years to come, the spores spread by the large Volcarona on his path would birth new Foongus. Those Foongus would sprout, grow, and probably be used as trampolines by future Larvesta as well.
And so the cycle of life continues.