How in the Distortion World did Clawface recover from Tesla's deadly Electroweb? Now you'll know!

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It was an entire day after the Darkfeathers had left Fire Isle when Clawface finally stirred.

Herra had dutifully watched over her partner in crime without taking a single break. She didn't even think of catching something to eat or pausing to preen her ironclad feathers. The Skarmory stood guard over Clawface for 24 hours at the least.

Why was she doing this? Why was she so convinced that the murderer was alive? Clawface was badly scarred and unmoving, with his feathers scorched and once soggy, rapidly drying in the baking heat of the sun. He had been hit with a super-effective Electroweb attack and then dunked in the ocean while the electricity was still in effect. It would be a miracle if he had survived.

So why did Herra stay?

Well, just after the Darkfeathers had left, Herra had seen the Fearow twitch a couple of times. This barely noticeable movement alone was enough to give her hope that he was alive. Her heart had leapt when she saw his talons bending ever so slightly, seemingly of their own accord.

That sight had given Herra renewed hope, motivation enough to encourage her to stay with him for another day. Restlessly, impatiently, she scanned his unmoving body for other signs of life, but without luck. If it weren't for the fact that she had seen him twitch like that, she would be convinced that Clawface hadn't survived.

But the Skarmory knew that there was a chance that he was alive. Even if it was the most miniscule of chances, it was enough to make her stay.

The second sign came after another few hours. With the sun high in the sky, and Herra trying to ignore her own discomfort, she blinked disbelievingly at the crumpled Flying-type. She thought she had seen him stir just a bit. That sight gave her another jolt of renewed hope, hope that her partner had survived.

And the movement turned out to be real, and not just a figment of her imagination, an hour later. Clawface moved again, his chest rising the tiniest bit as he drew a silent breath. Tears sprang to Herra's eyes as she witnessed this happen a second time, and then a third, and then a fourth.

Clawface was alive.

It wasn't until many hours later, when both day and night had passed and the sun was rising again above the surface of the water, when Clawface finally moved significantly. Herra had fallen into an exhausted sleep, sprawling out on the sand. But when the light of the rising sun woke her, the first thing she did was glance over to where the Fearow lay.

She couldn't believe her eyes. He was moving, struggling to get up. His eyes were half-open, fluttering madly as if he was desperately trying to stay awake. His talons moved helplessly, and his wings would occasionally rise an inch off the sand before falling uselessly to his sides again.

Herra didn't waste time giving in to the emotions welling inside her. Her partner needed help. As gently as she could, she rolled Clawface off of his back so he could get up more easily. Weakly, he tried again and again to stand up, but it was no use. Clawface's strength had simply evaporated. Every time he tried to hoist himself up with his wings, he collapsed, barely getting his chest off of the ground before hitting it again.

The Skarmory was patient. She spoke softly to him, encouraging him to try again every time he collapsed. Slowly, very slowly, Clawface got steadier and stronger. Herra, at one time, dared to hope that he had done it as he managed to get his talons underneath him and assume a standing position. But his legs crumpled the second he did so, causing him to collapse once again.

Finally, Clawface gave up. After the fifth time he managed to stand, only to fail to keep himself steady, he seemed to decide it was better not to exert himself. For a long time, he lay still, fully conscious yet unwilling to move.

Herra knew that with the sun at its current height, Clawface could potentially die from over-exposure to its heat and light in his condition. She had to get him off of the beach and into the shade of the trees.

So that's what she did. The Skarmory picked him up in her talons, making sure that she had a firm grip, and tried to fly the short distance away from the sand. But it wasn't easy – Clawface was nothing but dead weight. If he can find the strength to stand up, despite his injuries, Herra thought stubbornly, thrashing her wings, then I can find the strength to carry him to safety.

It took a long time, but by the time Herra's wings and talons were aching badly from her attempts to move the Fearow, she had finally managed to get him underneath a large, broad-leaved tree. She found it much cooler in the shade than on the sand, so she allowed herself to fall exhaustedly to the ground and lay there for a minute, resting next to her fallen partner.

"H… H… Her… ra…"

The Skarmory sat up, startled at the unexpected voice. It was raspy and broken, sounding like bones being crushed underfoot. But despite that, she knew instinctively that the alien sound was coming from Clawface.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "How are you feeling now?" Her own voice was concerned.

It was a while before Clawface could get the words out, moving his beak before finally forcing himself to speak. "E… Every… th… thing… h… hurts…"

Herra couldn't prevent the tears that came to her eyes at the sheer helplessness of the Fearow's voice. He didn't sound like a hardened criminal anymore, he sounded like a wounded child.

"Take it easy," she told him gently. "Save your strength for now. You're in no condition to exert yourself. Just rest."

Clawface didn't want to appear weak, but he couldn't help it. He simply didn't have the strength to take care of himself. So he did what Herra told him to do. He closed his eyes and rested.

For a long time after that, Clawface did nothing but lay there in the shade. Occasionally, he would wake up and croak for food or water. Herra would fly off at once and bring him a small cup of water – taken from the still-smoldering village on Fire Isle – or a freshly killed Bidoof. In the latter's case, she'd tear off little strips of meat off the dead rodent and feed him beak-to-beak.

It was a very long time before Clawface felt strong enough to attempt to stand up again. With the Skarmory's encouraging, he managed to make it after only a few tries. On the fourth try, he successfully got to his talons, wobbled for a second, and then gently collapsed on the ground again.

But that didn't deter him. He had gotten farther on that attempt than on the beach, meaning that he was indeed getting a little stronger. After a few more tries, Clawface began to feel as if he was getting the hang of it.

Finally, as the sun set and stars began to break out, he was perfectly able to stand again without falling, although he did shake a little. Herra beamed at him like a sculptor viewing her creation for the first time. "I never doubted you," she said proudly. "I knew you'd be up and on your feet again."

Clawface tentatively shuffled his talons in order to turn in her direction. "Herra," he croaked, his voice slightly better than when he had spoken her name the first time. "I… couldn't have done… this without you, my… friend."

She had lost count of how many times tears sprung to her eyes by now, but Herra could add one more mark to the tally. This time, though, the tears began to run down her beak and drip onto the earth beneath her.

He called me "friend", she thought joyfully. I thought we were only partners in this life of crime we have built ourselves, but now… we're becoming something more. I can feel it.

The Fearow settled down to rest beside her. Herra looked down at him fondly and tried to blink her tears back.

Tomorrow, they'd be ready to fly. She could feel that, too.

-.-.-.-.-.

Clawface has a soft side? Who knew, hmm?

Anyway, we have a few more chapters go before I cut this story off and start the sequel! Stay tuned for the next chapter, and please review in the meantime.