Chapter 22

Grit

The hour was surely late. Squirtle was counting on winding down for the night, but this milky white Pokémon with the orange 'V' atop its head was likely interested in joining the team for taking back Blindhollow. Squirtle counted himself fortunate, as what other reason would this Pokémon have for approaching him? His striking up a conversation with Squirtle alone in an empty corridor made sense too, since this Pokémon must have been too shy to have stepped forward under the scrutiny of the commons' large crowd. The Pokémon's bubbly greeting was a mismatch for shyness, but Squirtle knew it could be easy to act confident in a one-on-one conversation as opposed to the populated setting of the commons.

"I can't say it's been a bad day, so I'm doing well. How about yourself?" Squirtle replied.

At that, the Pokémon's cheery smile fell away for a moment. When it returned, there was a faint note of puzzlement in the Pokémon's face. It quickly evaporated.

"Good, good. That speech your friend made in the common area, or whatever it's called, was inspiring. Sounds like you two have done a bunch of traveling. I thought I'd ask you a question I have, since you must be well-informed."

Squirtle prepared his response. 'Sure, thanks for finding me. You can definitely join us! We're leaving tomorrow morning from the front entrance to Cavetown.'

"Do you know where I can find Moltres?"

Squirtle closed his mouth on his ready-made reply. The floating Pokémon had asked an entirely different question than expected, one that he had no idea how to answer. Moltres was one of the three Legendary Birds. His memory told him that some Legendary Pokémon were more than mere legends in the human world. A few had been spotted or even battled by trainers and their Pokémon. Others remained myths that some denounced and some believed. Squirtle himself was not well-studied in the topic of Legendary Pokémon, but the Legendary Birds seemed plausible enough. Those weren't rumored to be able to control time and space, and they weren't said to have arrived on the planet via a meteor from outer space. Squirtle could believe that Moltres existed.

Where to find Moltres though? No idea. Did this Pokémon really think he would know? Legendary Pokémon were supposed to be nearly impossible to find. In order to find some of them, one had to have a pure heart, or assemble the ancient artifacts, or other such nonsense. That was in Unova. Where he was, in this land inhabited only by Pokémon, finding even a single Legendary may be impossible. According to Quil, they served only as the content for fantastical stories.

"Sorry, I don't have the slightest idea. Not to be rude, but are you sure Moltres even exists? You only hear about Legendaries in stories, don't you?"

The Pokémon gave him a patronizing look. "And who do you think you're talking to, Squirtle?"

The tone he used was strange, coming from this seemingly innocent bundle of fluff. Was this some famous Pokémon he should know about? While Squirtle could now recall more Pokémon since Ralia the Gardevoir's intervention, this species still eluded him.

Yet the Pokémon's words implied he was on the same level as the Legendaries they discussed. Squirtle struggled to keep any amusement out of his face. As if a Pokémon that rare and powerful would be speaking to him, a Squirtle, in a deserted corridor inside a mountain.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Squirtle replied. "As Quil said in his speech, we're not from around here."

The Pokémon cartwheeled through the air. "Yes, but Pokémon from all over know who I am! You're the first one to be clueless. When did you hatch?"

Just when I thought I was beginning to fit in with all the other Pokémon, Squirtle lamented.

"I know, I know, I'm strange. I don't know where Moltres is and I have a feeling that I'll never know, no matter how much traveling I do. Sorry I couldn't help you."

"Fine, I get it." The Pokémon glanced into the cave Squirtle had come from. "Do you think your Cyndaquil pal would know? He is a Fire-type."

The Pokémon's shrill voice was beginning to get on Squirtle's nerves. "He doesn't believe Legendary Pokémon exist," he said flatly.

The Pokémon floated upward, giggling up a storm. "Oh, he doesn't? I guess I can't blame him. If I never saw one, I wouldn't either! Smart Cyndaquil, right? Anyway, I can tell you've got places you'd rather be. Bye-bye, Squirtle!"

"Have a good night," Squirtle said politely before turning away to head toward where he'd seen the diggers and miners at work earlier that day.

He heard no sound behind him, and wondered if a levitating Pokémon like that would make a noise when he floated away. If so, that meant the Pokémon was still there, probably watching him. Squirtle peeked backward over his shell. The corridor was empty once more.

That answers that question. They're silent. And wow, that Pokémon could move fast, getting out of sight that quickly.

As he walked, he automatically replayed the conversation in his mind since nothing else was occupying his thoughts. Something was odd about it. It was distinct, somehow. Squirtle could not put a claw on it, but talking with that Pokémon had felt different than talking to the Donphan outside of Cavetown, or Wartortle in Blindhollow, or any other stranger for that matter.

The work-in-progress was now a complete cave like the others. Inside, some branches and flowers rested on the ground in a feeble mimicry of a forest setting. Squirtle stood outside in quiet reflection for a moment before moving on.

Adjacent to that cave was a new site of excavation, but the carts were abandoned. This cave was not yet finished, so the workers must have been taking a break until morning. Dust still drifted in the air around the new tunnel. Squirtle sneezed once, then again. He was curious as to how much had been hollowed out, and if there were any themed features for this cave, but elected not to poke around. He hoped there would be enough room to comfortably house all the refugees. Otherwise Cavetown's early risers would be stepping over sleeping Pokémon strewn among the passageways.

Squirtle continued on a short walk to further explore the other Habitation Cavern wings. From the outside, every cavern was identical. Squirtle wondered how many of them had been recently manufactured like the one he'd came from. He dared not enter each one to take a further look around, as the privacy of the Pokémon within was likely all that some had.

By the time he made it back to Quil's side in the faux-grassland cave, the irritation regarding his conversation with the strange Pokémon had faded. Whatever aspect of the conversation had struck his subconscious as unusual was probably not important in the end. Tomorrow he'd be long gone on the path to Blindhollow anyway.

For a few minutes, Squirtle reminisced within his shell about the memories that had been returned to him. He remembered the good times as well as the low points. The successes and failures of that life were so bizarre in his current setting. Incompatible with life as a Squirtle. The differences were intriguing to explore. Cultural, physical, mental, and other aspects of life would be enjoyable to analyze and discuss after all was said and done. If he was ever human again. Titles for possible essays popped into his head until he drifted off into slumber.

After hours underground with only the dreary light of the fungi to see by, the entrance of Cavetown was blinding. The difference in light levels was so great that the outside world resembled a blur of white light. Squirtle was forced to squint as he ascended the uneven steps with Quil, who seemed more tolerant of the brightness. Of course, the Cyndaquil's eyes were better shielded.

Hayzin and Viper were already waiting in the morning light. Even at that early hour, a multitude of other Pokémon were also waiting, like the previous day. Waiting for friends or family to arrive? Waiting for word from their homes? Waiting for someone who would never come? Squirtle feared asking for the depressing answers he might receive.

"No one else coming to make some pow-pow in Blindhollow, eh?" Viper asked Squirtle with an accompanying pair of air-slaps by her bladed tail.

"Sadly, no," he reported, blinking in the light.

Hayzin gently tossed his maned head and neck. "This group is smaller than the one we had when we met near Blindhollow the other day. I hate to say it, but maybe we should have combined parties there and faced Raizula together."

No one said anything to that. Squirtle could feel the doubt in the air. Now they were all second-guessing the wisdom of going all the way back to Blindhollow with even fewer Pokémon than when they'd first met.

Quil started to say something, but then a new voice called over to them from the tunnel leading into the mountain.

"I was wrong."

Bein emerged from Cavetown's maw, squinting in the brightness. He casually carried his bone on his left shoulder. The Cubone strode quickly toward them, but stopped shy of a jog.

"Bein!" said Squirtle and Quil together.

"I was wrong," Bein repeated as he arrived. "Can't stand seeing all those refugees, but choosing only to make homes for them. And I hate that Raichu for what she took from me. I'm here to help you out."

His bones, Squirtle realized. He's still sore about that. No doubt I would be too, were I a Cubone.

Hayzin and Viper shared a dark, knowing look with each other when Bein mentioned something of his being taken. Bein said nothing further, and Quil looked to be commiserating with the enduring sense of loss he felt. Squirtle recalled the way their Totter Seed had been taken.

This was no way to start a journey!

"Welcome to the team, Bein!" Squirtle said in an effort to raise everyone's spirits. Amazingly, it worked. The other three behind him gave an answering cheer.

Bein did not appear similarly uplifted. "That's it? 'Welcome to the team'? Don't you have a team badge? Some kind of emblem?"

Anxiety abruptly bloomed in Squirtle's chest. The sentiment of being a team was supposed to unite them and cheer them up. Was he about to lose a valuable fifth addition because of his lack of decorum? He should have had foresight, should have created a team name, had badges made by-

The others were laughing. At him, in fact. With a rush of heat to his face, Squirtle realized Bein had been joking. The temptation of withdrawing into his shell was almost too strong to resist, but he endured it as the others cracked up around him.

Introductions were made between Bein, Hayzin, and Viper, and then the five Pokémon were on their way southeast to Cavetown with no one looking back. It might have been Bein's Type and immunity to electricity that lent their group the confidence it needed, but Squirtle attributed it more to his personal presence. The Cubone was reassuring and firm in a way that he doubted he could ever achieve.

Squirtle was glad to have another small Pokémon as a teammate as he eyed the relatively huge Zebstrika and Seviper. He knew there was little correlation between a Pokémon's size and their strength in battle, but some part of him was still human. Size mattered. On the downside, Bein was another Pokémon whose facial expressions Squirtle had a difficult time reading. There were worse problems to have.

Though Squirtle recognized the landmarks of the route as they retraced their path, the mood was not the same. The optimism that comes with the beginning of an adventure. A sense of safety due to the group's size. Being mostly an easy downhill trek, the mood was easy to maintain. Especially as the route featured frequent beautiful views of Blind Prairie.

Squirtle figured he and Quil should lead, as they were most responsible for the team and its efforts. Quil looked ill at ease at having an Electric-type right behind him, but seemed to prefer walking next to Squirtle than anywhere else. Squirtle doubted he would be comfortable leading the other four in the front by himself. Viper and Hayzin took the middle of the formation. Bein brought up the rear.

For Squirtle's part, he more so felt odd that the Electric-type in their group was so passive with the immense amount of power at his disposal. It almost made sense that Hayzin should call the shots, but he made absolutely no mention of neither his Type nor his position as an ordinary member of the team. If he wanted to be treated as any other Pokémon, then Squirtle could grant him that wish.

Viper launched into a tale she called 'The Battle of the Psychic Crazies', in which she defeated twenty Psychic-types by herself. As the story went on, Squirtle noticed inconsistencies in the number of foes she faced, but decided not to mention them.

"A never-ending onslaught of them! You'd have to see it to believe it. Not sure if it's common knowledge, but Toxics like me are weak against Psychics. No way I was going to let that fact stop me from fighting back though! So when the first Alakazam came around the knoll, I stretched myself as high as I could, ready to strike."

At that point in her story, the group rounded a large boulder bulging partway onto the path. Its shape was like a face, with a plume-like rock extending out the top. As the middle of their group passed it by, Squirtle heard Hayzin snort a warning. Viper halted in her story-telling, and they all stopped to look.

Eyes opened in the face of the boulder, and it extended forward as other rocks connected to it emerged out of a tunnel next to the path. In seconds, an entire Onix had snaked out of the tunnel in the mountainside. It roared the same sort of gravelly roar that the Graveler from the other day had produced, but much louder.

Squirtle dropped to his hands, the urge to fight flooding into his mind. He was not about to let some wild Pokémon keep them from their goal. The fate of Blindhollow was far more important than a random battle in the mountains! With the amount of firepower they collectively had, the battle would be decided quickly and favorably. All the better, to keep moving on as soon as possible.

As he allowed water to fill his throat, he heard the others preparing their moves concurrently. The Onix completed its roar and rose high into the air, supported by the rock segments lower in its body. Then its body arched and it slammed downward in the general vicinity of Hayzin and Viper. Both were struck. Hayzin received a glancing blow, and Viper hissed breathlessly as the Onix's hard body landed mostly lengthwise with her own.

Squirtle unleashed a Water Gun at the nearest rock segment, and in the blink of an eye, Quil had pounced at the segment adjacent. Having never seen him move that fast, Squirtle was faintly surprised until he recalled the instruction his friend had received from the Quilava. The Pokémon had called it something like Fast Attack. The Onix grumbled and turned its stony gaze on Squirtle. Apparently it hadn't enjoyed the Water Gun.

Bein was on top of the Onix, smashing its hard hide with his bone, but he slipped off when the Onix propelled itself uphill. Squirtle could see Viper had been on the other side of the Onix, approaching its head for some attack using her mouth. She stopped short as the Onix left her range.

Hayzin had also been on the other side of the Onix. Without its body blocking Squirtle's vision of the Zebstrika, he could now see the arcs of electricity dancing in his stiff mane. Even amid the noises of the battle, Squirtle's hearing zoned in on the low hum of the building electrical charge on Hayzin. An Electric technique was coming.

I'm out in the open! Squirtle yelled in his mind. He knew his eyes were wide. Any thoughts of attacking the Onix were gone. This was about self-preservation. Need to find a boulder to hide behind!

In the yellow light flashing from the electricity in Hayzin's mane, Squirtle saw the bright lightning bolt from Raizula the Raichu's cheeks striking Blindhollow's watering hole. The Zebstrika's eyes were fixed on the Onix's tail segments as it moved uphill. He charged uphill in a manner disturbingly similar to Stolt the Luxio closing the distance to pounce on Quil.

I'm fine, we're fine, he's attacking the Onix, not me, not Quil. No need to stop fighting. No need to panic. Just keep fighting the Onix. The Electric-type is on our side.

Hayzin clearly impacted the Onix's body, but instead of a cascade of sparks or thunderous echo, there was nothing. All evidence of any electricity vanished with the touch. Puzzlement flashed across the Zebstrika's muzzle.

Ah. So Onix have Ground typing as well as Rock.

By the time he'd calmed himself enough to ready another spray of water, the Onix was too far. He didn't notice any signs of fire being used by Quil, and wondered if his friend had been as paralyzed by the show of electricity as he had been.

The next thing Squirtle knew, rocks large and small were plummeting down on him from above as well as bouncing down the mountainside toward him. Discounting the idea of Withdrawing as inferior to a dodge attempt, he did his best to avoid the largest ones. He still sustained far more hits than was comfortable. By the positioning of the rocks, it seemed as though the Onix was trying to entomb him instead of just knock his lights out. He struggled to dodge the last of the missiles due to being surrounded by piles of rock. Clambering over them to escape took a few seconds, too.

As he came over the lip of the rock cluster, the earth and air began to rumble. Squirtle could feel the low-frequency vibrations shaking the rocks beneath his feet. He glanced up at the Onix and saw it undulating, perpendicular to the mountain's slope. A small avalanche formed below it as all of the loose rock uphill from the path tumbled earthward from the Onix's mass shaking the mountainside. Quil, Hayzin, Viper, and Bein were all caught in the rockslide, as it appeared they'd been chasing the Onix to land their attacks.

Was the avalanche of rock even a battling technique? Or was the Onix simply using its surroundings to its advantage? In any case, the four victims of the rockslide thankfully retained consciousness after the shaking had subsided. Viper in particular was sluggish, but Bein looked hardly weakened. Together, the four finally reached the Onix as it was raising its body up for another slam.

Squirtle followed his companions up the mountainside. He saw Quil spitting embers into the Onix's face, and Bein dealing more crushing blows with his bone. Viper seemed to be licking the Onix. Squirtle could only hope it was an attack, as the two tines of her tongue scraped against the Onix's rocky skin. Hayzin was shaking his white starburst of a tail at the Onix's face, causing it to bob distractingly. Perhaps he had little in his arsenal besides the Electric techniques that were currently ineffectual.

By the time Squirtle reached them, the battle was finished. The Onix allowed its posture to collapse in a clear indicator of surrender. The number of attacks it had sustained earned Squirtle's respect. Having endured a variety of Pokémon attacks, and seen more than a couple of fights, he knew what it was like to fight a losing battle. To struggle with a weakening body. For once it felt right to dip his chin in acknowledgment of the Onix's tenacity, even if its decision to fight was caused by an instinctual drive. The others performed the ritual in their own way. Viper's version looked quite awkward, as her head and neck hooked downward to point directly into the ground. A Seviper's bow.

The Onix lay still, watching them pass by with its eyes. Squirtle was relieved the fight hadn't pushed it to unconsciousness, or he would certainly have felt shameful. Five on one was hardly fair. He wondered if the average Pokémon would think so, or if the idea of a fair fight was a human concept.

"I didn't know Onix were Grounders as well as Rocks," Hayzin said, back on the path. "Even after all of the traveling I've done, I continue to learn new things."

"Looked like a bad Type match-up for most of us," said Bein as he hoisted his bone back onto his left shoulder. "No issue for a group this big though."

"Right, right, so where was I?" said Viper as she inched forward beside Hayzin. She continued her story where she left off, starting with a perfect bite onto the offending Alakazam as she simultaneously swiped her tail at two other Psychics who had supposedly teleported right behind her. Despite the outrageous story, Squirtle heard a new weariness in her voice. It told in the pauses between sentences, and the slightly duller enthusiasm at her description of the battle. He glanced back, and saw her red eyes were less lively than before.

The Seviper had received possibly the heftiest beating in the battle with the Onix, but they'd all been drained to some degree. It would only get worse the more battles they endured. Far from being a negative development, Squirtle considered the prospect of using and honing his skills to be enticing. The opinion he'd shared with Quil days prior of wanting to improve his battle prowess, reputability, and confidence had not changed. However, as when he'd been traveling only with Quil, taking time and energy to fight these wild Pokémon would significantly extend their travel time. Cavetown to Blindhollow wasn't far, but nor was it close.

The Seviper reached the finale of her story, in which the last of the Psychic Crazies succumbed to her poison and keeled over unconscious. Quil asked her if she'd really defeated that many Psychics at the same time, so Squirtle chose that moment to bring up the topic. Stopping Viper from answering would be the most tactful resolution of Quil's question anyway.

"I have an idea, and I'd like all of your opinions. Am I correct in saying that we all want to reach Blindhollow as soon as possible?"

"Yep!" replied Viper immediately. Bein, Zebstrika, and finally Quil each gave an affirmative as well.

"And it's also true that our pace will suffer the more we battle, right?"

This question gave the group more of a pause. Everyone did soon give some variation of 'Yes, I guess so.' Quil was looking at Squirtle with his chin tucked and his head tilted. A cheeky look. Quil had an idea of what was coming, whereas the others did not. Maybe Bein.

"Then we have to conclude that battling is out of line with our goal. But," he added as Viper raised an objection, "I know that it's impossible to reduce our encounters with wilderness-dwelling Pokémon, besides by staying on the path. I have one solution, and I'm interested in what you all think about it."

This seemed to catch their attention as they all marched, or inched forward in Viper's case, down the mountain path. A small gust of chilly wind swept across the open mountainside.

"What is this idea, Squirtle?" asked Hayzin, breaking the quiet on the lofty mountain.

Squirtle hesitated. He didn't have enough time to determine if the idea he was about to propose was orthodox in the Pokémon culture and philosophy, or if his leadership would be taking a serious blow by even mentioning such a crazy idea. Nothing for it now, though. He'd made the mistake of bringing up the topic before fully thinking it through, and now he might have to pay the price.

"Not all of us should battle when we run into wild Pokémon. Some fight to clear the way forward, and expend their energy doing so. That's no problem though, because the others who are sitting out are conserving their strength. I'm thinking Hayzin and Viper, you two wouldn't be battling. Then, you can give us a ride while we rest from the fight. Since you're so large, you can carry passengers. Right?"

Viper made the coughing hisses that Squirtle now recognized as laughter. "What a zongo idea, Squirtle!"

"Don't see any flaw in the idea," Bein grunted after a moment.

"Nor do I," said Hayzin slowly.

Quil simply nodded and smiled at Squirtle reassuringly. Here Squirtle was thinking he'd projected himself fairly confidently, but Quil saw right through the facade to the doubt he truly felt. Thankfully no one shot the idea down.

"I haven't given rides before," said Viper in a reflective voice. "It'll be four hundred Poké per hour, got it? Ha, just joking! Sure, I'll do it Squirtle. Any battle looks too tough, though, I'll be there like that!" She struck the blade of her tail against a nearby rock to make an emphatic CLACK.

"Of course," said Squirtle. "If our opponent or opponents present a dangerous situation, such as if they're Electric-type, we can all battle together. Otherwise, starting after the next battle, you can give us a ride. Great, glad that's settled."

In fact, the matter did not seem entirely settled. Squirtle could practically hear some of his companions chewing on the idea. It must have been incredibly strange to them, the idea of not battling. This division of labor while traveling, too, was likely a novel idea. This could be the first time that they would not be charging gung-ho into a fight when it presented itself. Squirtle yearned to hear what they were thinking. Was he now a stranger? A being that did not think like them, and who introduced totally foreign ideas to their straightforward way of life?

The others yielded no answers. Their progress was slightly slower as they recovered their strength from the fight while walking instead of stopping to rest. They winded down the path toward the approaching treeline. Weird Wood. Squirtle suppressed all thoughts of the nightmare he'd experienced inside the creepy forest. He couldn't afford to go off the deep end in front of his companions.

The sense of exposure vanished as they entered the shadowy pine trees. Thousands of pine needles blocked out the sky. Even so, the amount of color in the surroundings skyrocketed as they left behind the grays of Heartless Heights.

"Ah, there goes my natural camouflage," said Hayzin drily. Quil and Viper chuckled, but Squirtle could only manage a smile. Next to Quil, he was leading the group through the wood. Missing the path and getting them lost would be on him. More pressingly, if a wild Pokémon saw them coming from up ahead, it would spot him first. He accordingly should be the first to notify his group of the threat. His eyes needed to be peeled. Not a difficult task, since he would have been constantly scanning the gloomy trees anyway to reassure himself that nothing was watching him.

This trip through the relatively thin strip of Weird Wood was marginally less spooky than the last for Squirtle. The size of their group helped to push away the unsettling influence the forest had had on him. Nonetheless, the eerie atmosphere was relentless. He tried to focus on the task ahead. The wood wouldn't get the best of him when so much was at stake.

The only bump in the journey was a chance encounter with a Venomoth living in the nearby trees. It fluttered over to engage them as soon as Squirtle noticed the conspicuous lavender amid the foliage and warned his companions. As per Squirtle's instructions, Hayzin and Viper stayed put while Bein, Quil, and Squirtle trotted off the path to meet the hostile Pokémon.

The Venomoth vibrated its wings faster than Squirtle's eye could follow. The sound buzzed outward, filling the air, and seeming to press in on his head from all directions. The effect was irritating, but not nearly enough to stop him from advancing along with Bein and Quil.

"We need fire! Quil, Ember, blast it with Ember!" he called out.

Quil stopped in place to aim his snout up at the Venomoth fluttering fifteen feet in the air. When he opened his mouth, a red glow could be seen within.

"I'll try to distract it," Squirtle muttered partly to the others, but mostly to himself. With that goal in mind, he let his body wave his blue tail back and forth like a flag at the Venomoth. The Pokémon's beady eyes were captivated by the motion but only for a moment. Its gaze jumped back to the fiery glow that had built within Quil's mouth, and it fluttered away toward Bein.

Bein leaped six body-lengths up one of the countless pine trees, planted his legs, then propelled himself at the Venomoth to deliver a solid headbutt using the smooth crown of his skull helmet. The Pokémon cried shrilly as Bein landed back on the forest floor. It fluttered erratically for a second until Quil's embers roiled upward into the air, engulfing it. Squirtle shielded his eyes against the sudden light.

His Ember isn't getting any worse, that's for sure! That brightness is like an attack all on its own.

The thought diverted his attention only briefly. He readied his go-to move, the Water Gun, but a partly blackened Venomoth swooped into the airspace above his head. Purple flakes drifted off the back of its diaphanous wings. Whatever the substance was, Squirtle was positive it would not be healthy for him. He hadn't forgotten the bout with the Butterfree's powder in Root Forest.

Squirtle spun around, located the nearest tree, and rushed to get behind it before the blanket of purple flakes could reach him. He underestimated their falling speed, however, and felt an itch begin on the surface of his tail and right arm.

"Those're poisonous, Squirtle!" he heard Viper shout from where she waited on the sidelines. "I know it's too late now, just trying to help," she added somewhat apologetically.

Great. Paralysis was a barrel of fun, so I'm sure being Poisoned will be twice as wonderful.

Completely unsurprisingly, a wave of nausea passed through his stomach. The world blurred for a moment. His innards felt like they weren't sitting right inside of him. He peeked out from behind the tree at the fight, trying to ignore the growing queasiness.

The Venomoth had increased its altitude and was now swooping over Bein for another sprinkling of poison. Quil wasn't in plain sight. Squirtle could only hope another Ember was on its way.

"Use the tree trunks as cover!" Squirtle shouted into the fray. He hoped that using his voice wouldn't cause him to throw up in his mouth. "Don't stay in the open!"

Bein chose to do the reverse. Instead of fleeing from the Venomoth's poisoning technique, he repeated his maneuver of leaping partway up a tree in order to launch at his opponent. As the flakes drifted off the Venomoth's wings, the blunt end of Bein's bone slammed into its thorax from above in a powerful overarm blow. The Venomoth cried sharply again as it spun downward to earth. When it landed on the dark forest floor, it did not take to the air again. Its wings fluttered weakly.

Quil emerged from behind a tree on the opposite side of the Venomoth from Squirtle. The glow in his mouth vanished as he made a swallowing motion.

If that's not the best way to get heartburn, I don't know what is.

Squirtle walked up to the Venomoth as well, once the few poisonous flakes from its second wave had settled to the ground and faded. Every step made the queasy feeling swell. He pictured purple tendrils creeping outward from his belly, like rivulets of venom seeping through him. Begrudgingly, he gestured his respect to the Venomoth with Bein and Quil. Hayzin and Viper joined them with short words of congratulations.

"Pecha are best for counteracting poison," said Quil as he looked concernedly at something on Squirtle's face. "But I don't think we've seen any so far."

"The poison'll go away real quick-like, Squirtle, if you relax and don't move much," said Viper. Her tongue flicked out into the air next to Squirtle, as if to taste the air. "You're not Poisoned very badly, don't worry!"

"Remind me again why we don't travel with supplies like Pecha Berries?" he snapped.

Idiot. Stop being so whiny. The worst that will happen is I pass out. Big deal.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Never been Poisoned."

Still, his question generated an uncomfortable pause. No one seemed to have a good answer, or they were unwilling to put forth their opinion. Hayzin finally spoke.

"I think it best if we start moving. How do you want to do this, Squirtle?" He sounded unsure of how the simple procedure of 'mounting up' should be tackled.

Squirtle swallowed another annoyed reply and did some quick thinking. They'd want to split the load between the Zebstrika and the Seviper. Bein was the shortest, and likely the least heavy. Squirtle knew his shell probably weighed more than he thought, since he 'wore' it all day. He must be the heaviest. Thus he should be a solo rider, with Bein and Quil paired up. Sticking the Ground-type on the Electric-type made sense, for safety reasons, but Squirtle knew Quil would be very nervous sitting atop an Electric-type. So would he. Nevertheless, balancing the weight to create physical comfort was more important than psychological comfort. He made a compromise.

"I'll hop on your back Hayzin, and Quil and Bein can ride on Viper, if that's fine with all of you." When no objections were raised, he easily jumped up onto Hayzin. The Zebstrika's mane bent downward to accommodate his weight, but the hairs were still stiff. Thankfully he had a hard shell to protect himself, in place of a saddle. He gripped the base of Hayzin's thick neck, riding the small swells of nausea that threatened to sap his energy.

Bein and Quil hopped onto Viper's body close to her head as well. Once she started inching forward, they sidled up to the peaks of her wave-like body. Bein crouched low and held on for extra stability while Quil hugged one of the golden hexagon and oval patterns on Viper's spine. The position reminded Squirtle of their swim across the Karp river to reach the ferry. Quil had probably looked just like that on top of his shell.

Riding a Pokémon was not new to Squirtle, since he'd ridden a Gogoat as a human. The memory would have made him smile, if he wasn't Poisoned. He felt Hayzin's muscled shoulders shift beneath him, and tried to move his body along with the Zebstrika's as he'd been taught as a child. With only tiny Squirtle legs, and no stirrups or any other tack, he was skeptical of how applicable his experience was to the current situation.

Hayzin finally replied to Squirtle's earlier question as they continued down the path. "To me, carrying around a bag of supplies for all possible situations would be more hassle than help. For example, I wouldn't want to bring Pecha Berries with me while traveling, because I'm not often Poisoned. Even were that the case, all such ailments fade away eventually. Are the weight and fuss of the supplies worthwhile?"

"Yeah, what he said!" added Viper while moving her head about enthusiastically, much to the dismay of her two passengers. "Sure would be nice having an Oran to chow after every rough battle, but I'm not lugging an Oran bush around with me." She brought her head around to face Bein where he clutched her back. "Don't squeeze so hard, you're making my scales itch!"

"Used to walking," said Bein apologetically. "I agree with you two about the supplies," he added, directing his voice at Viper and Hayzin. He then looked Squirtle's way with a silent question in his manner.

"I see your point," said Squirtle after some consideration, "but you're likely talking about battles that don't matter in the grand scheme of things. A friendly battle to test strength. A quick skirmish over territory. What about battles for which the outcome can change everything? What about a battle that would decide the fate of an entire town?"

He could tell his point had hit home. Even Bein, who was so difficult to faze, looked down at Viper's scales in thought.

The deep shadows of the forest floor grew shallower as the tree trunks and pine needle foliage thinned out. The five travelers emerged from Weird Wood. The path winded down through the short-grassed foothills and ultimately into the ocean of ochres and greens called Blind Prairie. Squirtle carefully stood up and peered around the right side of Hayzin's neck, extending his tail to the left to balance himself. He couldn't be sure, but in between the bumps of Hayzin's hoof-falls, he thought he could see the tiny bare patch miles away that belonged to Blindhollow. With his eyes on their destination, he spoke again.

"In those cases, I know I'd be thanking my lucky stars that I'd brought what I needed for a worst-case scenario. That day might come sooner than you think."