XV. Seeking Solace
I try to calm my rapid breathing, the shock of my capture fading.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Suddenly exhausted, my adrenaline having disappeared, I curl up and attempt to rest, all the while ignoring my deep sense of loss.
Two years have passed since I was stolen away from everything I knew and thrust into this hectic lifestyle.
It's not that I resented my trainer or despised my situation, but I never quite fit in. I was always the odd one out, and being a Houndour, I intimidated most of his other Pokémon because they were steel, grass, or psychic types.
That sense of loss I felt on my first night has never departed; it's been dulled, yes, but ever present. This loss has remained my most loyal companion throughout all my travels.
I have tried and tried to adjust, but a part of me-nay, all of me-still yearns for the wild. The shrieks of Pidgeot hunting their prey, the scuttle of Oddish tumbling amongst the leaves, the scent of Oran blossoms, and the whisper of wind rustling the breeze, sometimes escalating to a roar, others dropping to a faint sigh, surround my dreams. The texture of moist, loose soil beneath my black paws, such items of fiery destruction on such a small Pokémon, comforts my thoughts. How the rain, bitter spikes on my silky exterior, seemed to tell a story. A story of tears, shed and unshed, centuries of nature coming and going, learning the ways of the Pokémon living on it. My tale, dreadfully, is now riddled with petty, materialistic things. However enjoyable and pleasant these things may be, in the end they are just things made by humans. They will gradually peter out of existence while nature persisted thriving, transforming and staying the same all at once.
I attempt to console myself with this fact. Eventually, I will return to the wild; I'm just making a few pit stops along the way. In an effort to deceive my brain into believing that I am prosperous in my new environment, far from the brutal yet caring arms of nature, I tell myself these short hikes with my trainer are good enough and satisfy my need for adventure. In truth my hunger only intensifies, but I suppress the urge to flee, to run loose and never look back.
I know-in fact, I have always known-that I will never receive the solace I so desperately seek. Never again will I be an inhabitant of the wild; at least, not in this life. My body will return once I pass, of this I am certain. But I should like to roam the forest all on my lonesome for at least a short period of time before then.
But that is a dream untouched because I know it will not occur outside my fevered dreams. I will not find peace; I will not find comfort. This solace I seek is elusive, the lies I fool myself with pathetic.
My companion is to remain faithful evermore.