Author's Note:
Oh hay, it's an update!
By the way, I'm sorry for all the changes that I've been making recently. I tend to be a kind of OCD writer, always going back and tweaking little things all over the place. And just so you know, I promise this is going somewhere big. :) I've got a lot of ideas now...duhn duhn duhn...
Oh, and I hate to sound like I'm begging for reviews...but please review! It's nice to know that there's somewhere out there reading and thinking about your story, and it's always good to have notes on how to improve. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Chapter Six: Intercepted
Two days now, counted Squirtle as he peered up into the sky. Two days he had been following Charmander's trail.
The moon perched in the night sky like a giant white dimple, the greatest source of light he could see all around. Bright and round, it spilled silvery light on the ground where he lay, sprinkling the grass with dabs of milky radiance and casting miniature flecks of shadow on the patches of dirt. Squirtle lay back with his shell against the sloping trunk of a tree, his arms folded behind his head as he rested, fighting sleep.
His eyes flickered back and forth contentedly as he rejoiced in the peace and quiet of the night. It was the only time he had to stop and spend time with his own thoughts, to halt his relentless pursuit and enjoy the beauty of the forest. Now, rather than shrill banter, he heard only the sound of the humans' faint snores from only a few yards away. He could spot a corner of the red tent beyond the bushes from where he lay, and if he craned his neck just a bit further to look beyond the bushes, he could distinguish their shadowy forms through the open flap of the door, the thin fabric rippling back and forth in the breeze.
As the humans walked the main path the day before, he had followed after them along the side of the woods, darting between bushes and tree trunks. He didn't dare confront them head-on; when the girl lifted her hand, he had seen that she carried not one Pokeball in her belt, but five. He gulped; he knew he stood little chance against that many Pokemon, not to mention that all of them were probably well-trained. He hadn't exactly been preparing for battle all his years in the wild. And if he was knocked out, as he was bound to be, he would lose track of the humans, along with all hopes of finding Charmander.
As the sun approached the horizon and the sky began to darken with swirling hues of orange and purple, the humans had finally stopped at a clearing. They plopped themselves down on a large rock by the side of the road, and Squirtle stopped as well, watching them from behind a tree.
"I wish I had some kind of flying Pokemon!" the girl complained loudly, wiping her forehead in an exaggerated gesture. "Or at least—at least some Pokemon big enough to ride on."
The boy put his arm around her and planted another nauseating kiss on her greasy cheek. Squirtle shuddered, then sprang back to attention as the boy pulled something from the pack he carried on his back—a large piece of fabric and a set of poles of different sizes. He dropped them, and they clattered to the ground with a loud thunk. Squirtle frowned, perplexed, and leaned forward to see what they planned to do with the things.
The humans got to work right away as Squirtle gawked at the strange, cumbersome structure they struggled to set up, trying to follow the process. They inserted one pole into another, joined different ones together, hammered them into the ground, and stretched the cloth over the whole thing, talking the whole time. Squirtle's head spun. Somehow the foundation was strong enough, somehow the poles crossed into a X formation at the top, in just the right position for the fabric to spread across it…however it worked, in less than ten minutes, the structure was up.
The humans sighed in satisfaction and stepped back to give Squirtle a full view of the thing. It looked to him like a bulky hunk of cloth on stilts with a zipper door—something they called a tent. It was some makeshift building for them to sleep in, Squirtle realized. The humans unfolded two makeshift beds that looked like tubes of fleece with zippers and threw them inside the tent. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, they perched themselves on the rock again and gazed up at the night sky, talking. Finally, as they began to yawn with every other word, the humans crawled inside the tent and lay down. It was clever, Squirtle had to admit, all of it. Humans and their inventions…
As he heard their first snores and their soft, rhythmic breathing, it dawned upon him that now was the time for him to make a move. His heart skipped a beat. Yes…now he could sneak into the tent and, while the humans were sleeping, reach into the girl's belt without her notice and take the Pokeball with Charmander…
Your move, Squirtle. Steadying his breathing, he tiptoed toward the open doorway and leaned forward ever so slightly to peer inside.
He lurched back instantly, his heart hammering wildly. Curled inside the tent, its furry white tail wrapped around its body, one eye lazily open, scanning the room—was a large Arcanine, sprawled directly in front of its master. Its Pokeball lay next to the boy's sleeping bag, which was pressed tightly against the girl's, both zipped.
Squirtle's heart sank. He had no hope of reaching her Pokeballs. He could only be glad the Arcanine hadn't seen him. He shivered at the thought of those teeth, that trail of flame, licking at his back…that loud bark which would wake its masters and was bound to send the rest of their Pokemon barreling after him…
Dejected, he turned and trudged deeper into the forest, where still he lay awake, thinking of ways to save Charmander. With that Arcanine around, and all those other Pokemon, there was no way he could reach his friend…he would just have to wait for an opportunity, or perhaps follow them all the way to their destination…
He caught a few hours of restless sleep before dawn came, the early morning light rousing him back to the dilemma at hand.
As soon as the humans awakened, a few hours later, they took some time to take down the tent before they started on their way again, Squirtle in hot pursuit. Nothing of note had happened the next day, except that he had to listen to the girl's shrill singing the whole way down the road, each song followed by the boy's thrilled applause and endless compliments. Both of them discussed how she was the greatest trainer ever, and named all the exciting, powerful Pokemon she was bound to capture. Squirtle rolled his eyes. As if she could capture even half of them.
But at night…the truth was that Squirtle was afraid to sleep, afraid that if he awakened one morning even a minute too late, the humans would be gone, gone along with all traces of Charmander. He kept track of the happenings inside the tent with a few quick glimpses as dusk fell, but that Arcanine was always there, pacing back and forth and waiting for anything that could pose a possible threat to its masters. Squirtle knew better than to try again.
Instead, he lay quietly every night, catching short naps whenever he could, whenever the humans stopped and slept themselves. His naps never lasted, luckily—his fitful anxiety always awakened him not long after, calling to him even in slumber. He was always afraid he would wake up too late, though it was unlikely, since the humans loved to sleep in. The few hours of sleep he managed to steal each night were enough; his head was clear, clear as the moon now, and the forest on which it shone.
He loved the forest dearly, loved the sounds of life all around him. Bug Pokemon chirped softly, and the faint call of a Hoothoot reached his ears from the distance. He could hear Rattata and Raticate scampering about in the undergrowth, and below that, if he listened closely enough, the Diglett and Dugtrio shuffling about underground.
He heard something squirming nearby, and the grass parted next to him. Squirtle looked to his side in surprise and propped himself up on one arm as a young Caterpie squiggled through the foliage, its head cocked with curiosity as it studied him.
He smiled. "Hey, little buddy," he greeted softly.
"Rrrrooww!" the Caterpie squealed, and with a flash of green darted surprisingly quickly in the other direction. Squirtle watched its yellowish tail disappear under a bramble-covered bush. He suppressed a chuckle. It must have been a young one, easily startled and not having learned yet the ability to speak. His parents, Butterfree, Squirtle was sure, must be teaching him, somewhere in their nest.
These Pokemon are so free, he mused. A strange blend of comfort and wistfulness diffused through his body. He wasn't alone; he was surrounded by wild Pokemon, Pokemon who were his peers, his allies, and his friends. But while he could enjoy the same freedom…his best friend, just a few yards away, could not. No matter how close they stood to each other, he seemed to belong to an entirely different universe. No matter how close Charmander was, Squirtle couldn't rescue him. At least not here, not now.
I wonder where these humans are going, Squirtle thought. He rolled onto his back once again. Were they on their way to a Pokemon tournament? He frowned. No, it didn't seem like it. There was an air of laziness about the girl that told him she wasn't in the process of training. And something about the way they were so on guard, the hint of secrecy, and the cruel, over-the-top smugness of the girl, Mallie, unsettled him.
He sighed and settled back against the tree. His ears caught a strain of musical notes. He furrowed his brow and listened. Hardly a Pokemon was awake at this ungodly hour of the night. But somewhere above him, in the dense, leafy branches, the sound drifted to his ears: a mother Pidgeot sang to her young, sleepless Pidgey. A lullaby.
"It's okay, little bird," he heard her croon in the midst of her sweet melody. "You can sleep now. I'll be watching over you. Look up at the night sky, my darling. You see those stars? That moon? Someday, you'll become a great, strong bird, and you'll be able to soar into the sky, into that beautiful world you see now. You'll get to meet that moon, and those stars. Maybe even the sun." She clucked quietly. "Shhh…it's all right, my baby. Someday, your wings will grow big and strong, and you'll be able to fly free, my little bird. Free into the sky." He heard the soft caress of feathers against feathers, and the gentle murmur. "But you can sleep now, my baby. I'll protect you."
Free…into the sky…you can sleep now…I'll protect you, Charmander… For Charmander would fly free into the sky someday, too, as a Charizard. Squirtle's thoughts blurred in and out of focus as if they danced through the lens of a kaleidoscope.
He eyed the tent opening again, concentrating in his mind's eye on the single Pokeball that carried his friend. His eyelids drooped, as the sight blended like a mist into reality. He halfheartedly reached an arm forward to touch the Pokeball that he knew existed only in his dreams, only in the imaginary world of the night. He could rest now. The trees rustled above him, the wind swept past the endless blades of grass, and the soft cloak of sleep wrapped its feathery wings around him as he withdrew into the dark safety of his shell, into a world filled with nothing but shadow.
"Rrow!"
The abrupt cry jolted Squirtle from his fidgety-as-ever slumber; his eyes snapped open to a strange muted darkness. Upon hearing the faint chirps of the morning birds and discerning the difference in the shade of his shell—more of a soft brown rather than navy—he realized it was no longer night. He jerked his arms and legs, and with a pop they surfaced from the the shell.
With a tiny jolt of surprise, Squirtle emerged to see the Caterpie he had encountered the night before now perched before him on the dirt, its great black eyes examining him unflinchingly. Its skin was dappled with the first golden rays of dawn, grazing the Pokemon with their subtle warmth and kissing the dewdrops on the grass. Squirtle grinned. It seemed the bug Pokemon had overcome its fear and had decided to come back for more.
"Thanks for the wake up call," he quipped with a yawn.
"Roww. Yowrr…youwrr welcorrrm," the Caterpie replied, scrunching up its face with the effort.
"Hey!" Squirtle exclaimed. "You…you can speak! Or at least you're learning, anyhow…"
"Rrowwrroww." The Caterpie nodded and spun around in a circle.
"Ha, good job, I'm glad you can talk!" Squirtle punched his fist in the air, then lowered his arm sheepishly. "Oh…and sorry for scaring you last night. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Rroww-ow. Irrt's okrrray." The Caterpie beamed and bounced up and down enthusiastically.
As his mind awakened to match his body's alertness, Squirtle cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure the tent was still there. Sure enough, he spotted the hump of red cloth and the bottoms of the two humans' sleeping bags peeking through the doorway. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and turned back to the Caterpie. "So…where are you fr—"
"ROW!" Without warning, the Caterpie leaped almost a foot in the air, its eyes bulging, and scuttled away at top speed. Squirtle raised his arm to call after it, but before any sound escaped his throat, the bug Pokemon had disappeared under the bushes and out of sight again.
Squirtle scratched his head and frowned. Did I say something…again?
As if answering his question, with a soft tap, a Pidgey hopped down from the tree and alighted on the grass in front of him. It ruffled its feathers and squinted its beady eyes at Squirtle. They gleamed with a mild accusation, as if asking, What did you do with that tasty treat that was here a moment ago?
"Sorry," Squirtle muttered with a grin. "That wasn't my fault."
The Pidgey regarded him suspiciously for a few moments more, then seemed to decide that the strange blue Pokemon wasn't worth its effort. It swiveled its head to the side and lovingly caressed its own tawny feathers with its beak. As he watched the bird preen itself with the utmost care, Squirtle sighed and leaned back into the bark. It was another young one, clearly, another Pokemon who could only watch the world around it for now and could not yet utter a single word to express the meanings and desires that throbbed deeply in the heart of every Pokemon.
Squirtle stirred to attention at the sound of a loud yawn from within the tent. He sprang to his feet and sidled past the Pidgey toward the bushes at the edge of the clearing. Eyes narrowed, he grasped the branches and peered through the leaves. He caught the sounds of still-sleepy murmurs and the rustle of fabric beyond the doorway of the tent, and minutes later, the girl emerged, beaming and stretching her arms.
She stopped all of a sudden, her eyes flashing as they alighted on the oblivious bird Pokemon. "Hey! Hey, look, it's a Pidgey!" she exclaimed, her voice hushed. A nasty grin spread across her face as she reached into her belt. "Finally! That flying Pokemon I always wanted!"
As she raised the Pokeball in her outstretched hand, Squirtle gasped in horror. "No—" he started, and then stopped himself mid-warning. The humans would hear him if he tried to warn the Pidgey, and he couldn't risk being discovered by them. He bit his lip and sent a silent plea to Arceus instead. Please…please don't let her get the Pidgey…the poor guy doesn't deserve it…
The Pidgey was turned the other way, its head still buried in its feathers, completely oblivious to the danger that had suddenly befallen it. Squirtle inched forward, reaching for the Pidgey's legs. If he could only get close enough…to startle it into flight, into the sky, where the girl couldn't get to it…
"PIDGIEEEW!" The deafening screech echoed through the sky, shaking the still forest to its roots. Squirtle dropped to the ground, clamping his hands over his ears. The girl gasped and dropped the Pokeball, her eyes huge with fear. She turned and raced toward the tent.
The massive mother Pidgeot swooped down toward her like a bullet from the sky, and with a great cloud of feathers, her talons grazed the human girl's head. A great gust of wind bore down upon them as she careened upward again, flattening Squirtle's body against the grass. Mallie screamed.
"GET AWAY FROM MY CHILD!" the Pidgeot roared, though the human could understand none of it. "MY BABY! HOW—DARE—YOU—LAY—YOUR FILTHY HANDS—ON HIS FEATHERS!" The mother's eyes gleamed ferociously, the crest on her head streaming in the wind like a bright, rippling banner. She punctuated every word with a vicious peck. Mallie's face reddened as she struggled to cover her head with her hands, tears pooling down her cheeks.
"Robert!" she wailed. "Robert! Heeeeelp!"
The boy poked his head out from the tent. His jaw dropped, and he let out an astonished howl as he took in the bizarre scene before him. He gestured wildly toward the girl. "Mallie, get in here! Quick! Get inside!"
She barreled into the tent, screaming and flailing her arms like no tomorrow—and still, the Pidgeot followed ruthlessly, her talons tearing the tent fabric to shreds in one sweep with a loud, horrible ripping noise. Like ribbons, the fragments of cloth twirled in midair and fluttered toward the ground.
Squirtle watched, hypnotized, as both boy and girl screamed and clutched each other in terror. "Whoa," he murmured to himself.
"RUN! JUST RUN, MALLIE!" Robert hollered. Stooping down, he hauled their sleeping bags from the remaining floor of the tent and struggled to grab hold of her arm with his other hand. His balance didn't hold; he stumbled forward and let go of her. She shoved him forward and staggered after him, bawling and cursing. And still the Pidgeot chased them, all the while screaming insults after them.
"That'll teach you!" she shrieked, beating her wings against their backs. With a burst of adrenaline, Squirtle dashed out from behind the bushes and sprinted after them.
"Whoa! Waiiiit! Waiiiiiiiiiiit!" Squirtle panted as they receded into the distance. "Wait up! Stop!" He scrambled as quickly as his legs would carry him over the crumbly mat of leaves, jumping over logs and tree roots and dodging the low-hanging branches of trees. The humans, with legs longer than his, were outrunning him, sprinting away. "It's my friend you're taking with you! Stop!"
As he clambered over a particularly large log, a searing pain suddenly engulfed his lungs. Squirtle fell back, choking, his eyes filling with tears. Everything was black around him; he couldn't see, couldn't move…he clutched his stomach and crumpled to the ground as his body shook with hacking coughs that seemed to burn through his very insides. Nauseating chills danced through his body; he doubled over and retched at the foul stench that filled his nostrils. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he retreated into his shell, still coughing and twitching.
Squirtle didn't know how much time passed as he simply lay there, his throat convulsing. When he peered out of his shell and opened his eyes but a crack, they burned with agony—he saw nothing but an endless black cloud of fog which seemed to have swallowed him. Wha—what happened? It hurt even to ask the question, to think. When he tried to remember the humans, his mind blurred, and a wave of nausea threatened to rise up inside him. He fought it down with all his might and promised not to think again; it hurt to do anything but curl up inside his shell and wait.
In his reeling state of consciousness, he slowly became aware of voices, murmuring voices muffled by his shell. They stretched and undulated in his head as he struggled to hold on to his wakefulness.
Thunk thunk. The sides of the shell vibrated as, Squirtle realized dully, someone was tapping on the outside. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled himself even more tightly within.
Thunk. Thunk. THUNK.
"Wha…" he murmured sleepily.
THUNK!
"Enough! All RIGHT!" Aggravated, Squirtle thrust his head out of the shell, a glare plastered across his face. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "All right, what do you want?"
His voice trailed away at the sight that confronted his eyes. Blinking in surprise, Squirtle took a step back and shook himself out of his stupor to take in his surroundings. He had stumbled under a large oak tree and was sprawled next to its trunk, its branches dipping above his head. Standing before him was a semicircle of Pokemon all gathered around him, peering at him curiously. A tentative hint of concern glimmered in their eyes. The two parties warily sized each other up, keeping their distance.
"A-are you all right?" a Vileplume ventured finally, stepping forward.
Squirtle cocked his head to the side. "Uh…I think so…? What's going on? What just happened?"
"Uh…" A deep, slow voice thrummed to his left, and an oddly shaped ball of purple drifted up to him. A skull-and-crossbones symbol was imprinted on its chest. The dopey-looking Koffing grinned sheepishly and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry…that would be my fault. We saw some humans running by, so I let out the usual alarm—some poison gas, to throw 'em off. Didn't know there was a Squirtle there, too. Really sorry 'bout that."
"Um…" Squirtle coughed again, expelling the last of the reeking gas. "It's all right…"
"Here." A high-pitched, perky voice rang out from the middle of the group. A young Eevee bounded forward and extended her hand out to him, her fluffy tail waving in the air. "Need a hand?"
"Th-thanks." Squirtle took her paw and she pulled him to his feet. He brushed himself off and took in a few gulps of the much-needed fresh air, savoring its clean taste.
As his mind and body cleared, a sudden panic gripped him, and he lunged forward. Bewildered, the Eevee tried to grab his arm, but he shook her off.
"No! I can't stay!" he yelped, shaking. "You guys saw those humans run by, right? Which way did they go? How far do you think they've gotten by now?" His breathing quickened to a frenzied pant. "Oh, no! I need to catch up with them! I need to!" His heart racing, he dashed forward toward the road.
"Hey!" the Eevee exclaimed. "Where're you going?"
"Sorry, I can't stay!" Squirtle gasped, shaking his head blindly. "I need to go! I need to find those humans!"
"Whoa, whoa, wait!" The Eevee cocked an eyebrow and glanced back. "Bulbasaur…" she said.
As he ran, Squirtle suddenly felt something that felt like two ropes close around his chest—he flailed his arms blindly and stumbled to the ground. His chin smashed against the dirt, but he barely noticed the pain.
"No! No! Charmander!" he screamed. "CHAAAAAAARMANDEERRRRRR!"
His fingers scrabbled desperately on the dirt for something to grab onto—a rock, a log, even a tuft of grass—as he struggled painfully to cling to the soil and pull his weight forward on his hands and knees. He coughed and wheezed, but he thought of nothing else as he crawled forward, each inch an immense wave of agony. Squirtle threw back his head and yelled in dismay as the Bulbasaur's vines tightened around his chest and firmly dragged him backward.
"NOOOO!" he howled, stretching his arm forward as his stomach scraped against the ground. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Oh, no, he's gone crazy!" a fourth voice sighed.
"Calm down!" the Vileplume snapped. "Don't make me stun you!"
"You're not strong enough!" the Eevee protested. "Squirtle, stop it! Stop! Just stop!"
"Bulbaaaaaaa…" the Bulbasaur strained through clenched teeth.
"LET GO OF ME!" Squirtle roared, fighting the vines. "LET GO! I NEED—TO FIND—CHARMANDER!"
"Stop it!" He felt a sharp slap that sent his head reeling. A Mudkip, the fourth Pokemon, had whipped its tail across his forehead. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but stop, so we can help you! You need more time to recover from the poison…"
"I'm—fine!" Squirtle gritted his teeth. "Just—let—me—go, Bulbasaur! Please!"
"I hate to break it to you, buddy…" the Koffing said apologetically, "but those humans must be long gone by now. Long gone."
"No!" Tears sprang into Squirtle's eyes as he momentarily stopped struggling. "They can't be! You've got to let me go so I can follow them!" But in the one moment he had let go, Bulbasaur had managed with some effort to yank him back in line with the others. The bulb Pokemon retracted his vines and stared at him with sympathy.
"I'm sorry I had to do that," Bulbasaur told him solemnly. "But you're still weak. You have to rest."
A tear spilling down his cheek, Squirtle slumped to the ground, all the fight gone out of him. He lay on his stomach as misery engulfed him; he felt small, weak, pathetic. Everything they said was true, he knew it. His chances of finding Mallie and Robert again were slim, and his body did still ache horrendously from both the poison and the fight with Bulbasaur.
He buried his face in his arms. Why did that Pidgeot and that Koffing have to come along ruin everything? But he knew it wasn't their fault—it was his. He shouldn't have let that Pidgey distract him. He should have kept going. He had done so well in the past two days, keeping track of their every move! And now, all his efforts were as good as gone…and worse, he had broken his promise to his best friend. I'm so sorry, Charm…
"Charmander…" he whimpered, as more tears followed the first and splattered silently to the ground, painting dark, wet circles on the dust. "I'm so sorry…"
He heard a pop next to his right ear and turned limply. Something had poked out of the dirt directly next to his head.
"Diglett?" queried a small voice. The mole Pokemon gazed at him curiously, its mouth sagging into a frown. "Aww…are you all right?"
Squirtle turned away. Sighing, he slowly, slowly, dragged himself to his feet. The other Pokemon watched him from a few feet with sad eyes glowing with sympathy, allowing him some measure of space. The Diglett slid through the dirt to join them. As Squirtle met their eyes, the Eevee stepped forward and approached him.
"Look," she murmured gently, laying a paw on his shoulder, "I'm really sorry, Squirtle, whatever is wrong. We were only trying to help you back there." She swallowed. "I can't say we really know how we can help you solve your problem, but hey, we're all Pokemon here. We're all in this together."
At those words, Squirtle looked up at her in surprise. It sounded like something he would say; in fact, it sounded like words he had already thought to himself many, many times. He listened, ears perked, as the Eevee continued.
"I don't know how much we can do, but together, we've all agreed to at least try to help you." A shy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "And I know we didn't really meet under the best of circumstances…but…but that doesn't mean we can't become friends, right?" She held out her paw tentatively, waiting.
Squirtle regarded her curiously as thoughts raced through his mind. Something about these Pokemon gave him a positive feeling, especially this Eevee. And he couldn't easily find Charmander on his own, now…but perhaps having a group of friends, no matter how raggedy, would help. He had made a promise, after all. And I intend to keep it…
He took the Eevee's hand and shook it. "Yes. Friends."
The Eevee beamed. "All right! That's fantastic." Her tail waved merrily in the air as she turned over her shoulder and beckoned toward the others. "In that case, Squirtle, you deserve a proper introduction."
As the others gathered around her, she smiled and pointed to herself. "I'm Tawny. This"—she gestured at the Vileplume—"is Pluma." The Vileplume waved. "That dopey ol' Koffing back there, that's Hak. The Mudkip is Kippy." Kippy bounced up and down, grinning. "And Diglett and Bulbasaur, well, I guess they just go by Diglett and Bulbasaur." She chuckled. "All of us, we're a bunch of wild Pokemon who found each other one way or the other…sometimes in very strange ways. But no matter what, we stick together, and we look out for one another. We're a team, and more than that—we're a team of friends."
Sounds like me and Charmander, Squirtle mused.
"So what's your story?" Tawny asked him, her black eyes twinkling. "Do you have a special name?"
"Er…" Squirtle shrugged, scratching his head. "Not really, I guess. I'm just…Squirtle."
"Okay…Squirtle." She grinned. "I like it. You can be like Diglett and Bulbasaur back there. Nickname-less."
"Yay!" Diglett squeaked.
"But more importantly," Tawny continued, more serious now, "why are you out here? What is it that you're looking for? I…I can tell you're looking for something."
Squirtle sighed, and his shoulders drooped again. He looked from face to face, wondering whether he could trust these Pokemon. Hak, who had apologized so earnestly for attacking him. Pluma and Kippy, who had tried to stop him from hurting himself, and Bulbasaur, who had been the one to pull him back. And most of all…Tawny, the Eevee who had reached her hand out to him, and promised, promised, to help him. He remembered her words, his words—We are all wild Pokemon. We are all in this together—and his choice was made.
He nodded. "I am. I'm looking for my best friend…my best friend in the world…his name is Charmander. He was captured by a human not so long ago, a few days, in fact. And his new masters are those humans who just went by."
A collective gasp rose from the five Pokemon. "Oh, those humans!" Pluma exclaimed. "They seemed especially nasty! The worst kind!"
"No wonder you wanted to go after them!" Kippy added fiercely.
Squirtle sighed. "Yeah…I know…they don't seem like good people at all. And they have my friend!" He clenched his hands into fists, and his voice climbed to a passionate shout. "I have to save him, guys! I have to get him out of that Pokeball and back into the forest where he belongs! He…he means more to me than anyone in the world, you know…you've got to understand!"
Bulbasaur studied him with his ruby eyes, and then he drew forward and inclined his head. "Yes. We do understand. The friendship between two Pokemon is one of the strongest bonds in the world. If I were to lose one of the others…" His voice trailed off, and he held out a clawed hand. "Squirtle…I swear that I'll do everything I can to help you find your friend."
A brown-furred paw rested on top of Bulbasaur's. "We all will," Tawny declared resolutely, her dark eyes gazing into his. Squirtle watched with a rising sense of hope as each of the other Pokemon nodded and asserted their determination to help him, adding their hands (or their heads, in Diglett's case) to the stack.
"Wow, guys…really?" he marveled, hardly daring to believe the solid friendships he had just forged, and hardly daring to believe what his new friends would do for him.
"Of course," Tawny answered firmly. "Pokemon have got to help each other out. It's the right thing to do. From this day on, we go forward together…as friends."