Sawsbuck and Zebstrika

An old man and his grandson were standing near a wooden fence, watching a herd of Sawsbuck graze in a nearby pasture. While the fence was old, it was smooth white with fresh paint; bright red ropes had been tied around the posts. They had the brushes cleaned, but white paint was still spotted all over the pair's rough clothes.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on Grandpa, everybody knows that. Even little kids know that the Sawsbuck horns change every season."

"There's less obvious things to tell too," the old man said. He pointed out one of the herd. "See that one there?"

The one in question was reaching up to take some leaves of a low hanging tree branch. His coat was deep brown with white spots along the back, and his horns had filled out nicely with green leaves. On the tip of one horn, a pink flower from spring remained. It shook noticeably, as if it weren't hanging on by much. "Yeah, what about 'im?" the boy asked.

"He's going to lose the last flower of his spring form soon. When you see Sawsbuck horns like that, people say that you'd best have your fences painted and bright."

That puzzled the boy. "Why's that?"

Unexpectedly, two thundering booms came from the road. The boy jumped; the sky was clear, so there shouldn't have been lightning. The Sawsbuck heard tensed, with a few younger ones starting to bold. After a moment, they calmed back down and went back to grazing. The old man just adjusted his hat.

"Because that's the time when the Zebstrika begin racing," he answered.

The booms repeated themselves a few minutes later.

Their hooves beat down on the asphalt road, sending sparks flying. Static built up and formed a windbreak before them, causing it to be easier to run the faster they were going. And this path that the humans had built for their vehicles? It worked wonderfully for the Zebstrika, as they had a continuous flat surface to run on.

A car appeared in their path, so the Zebstrika leapt right over it. The human inside panicked and honked the horn. Hearing it squeal behind them, the two Pokémon laughed. Served them right! They shouldn't get in the way of a race.

After that wide curve, the two Zebstrika finally slowed. They stopped in a field and trotted to where they had started. Partway across, they found a Sawsbuck who was nervously pacing. "You two run so fast," he said. "I can't race you like that."

"That's too bad," one of them said. "So then, you have to keep up your end of the bet."

Skittishly, the Sawsbuck moved back with tall steps. "But, um, what if I can't? The herd always moves in the same route from season to season. It might be bad luck to go somewhere out of season."

"What, you worried about getting your pretty little bushes caught up in a tree?" the female Zebstrika teased, going over and nipping at his horns. The Sawsbuck leaned out of her reach.

"You did agree to the last loser having to do whatever the first winner said," the male Zebstrika reminded him. "And I got back to the field first."

"I didn't know you could run that fast," he said, still nervous.

"Well?"

The Sawsbuck stopped and held his head up. "All right. You won, so what do you want me to do?"

"Let me see." The male Zebstrika paced around the Sawsbuck, who watched him. The female Zebstrika snorted and shook sparks out of her mane. Then, he approached the Sawsbuck, nose to nose. "You go back to your herd."

Confused, the Sawsbucvk lowered his head a little. "Go back?"

The Zebstrika stepped away nonchalantly. "Well you did wait here when you figured out that you couldn't win. You could've run off, but you acted honorably. But next time you decide to go bragging to Pokemon outside your herd, make sure you know who you're talking to and don't make stupid statements."

"Ah, okay," he said meekly. "Thank you." Then he hurried off across the field.

The female Zebstrika watched him go. "He is pretty fast, for a Sawsbuck."

"Not enough to compare with us," he replied, proudly holding his head high.

"So were you being nice to him there, or being mean?"

"Why can't I be both?" He whinnied in amusement, then pawed at the ground. "Sun's going down. Want a true race before it gets dark?"

She playfully nipped at him. "Oh, you are on, mister!"

And they both raced off for the human road again.

...

Black entry: They migrate according to the seasons. People can tell the season by looking at Sawsbuck's horns.

Black entry: They have lightning like movements. When Zebstrika run at full speed, the sound of thunder reverberates.

I'm doing NaNoWriMo again this year, but I managed to write a few updates to make during November. This one was tricky to put together, I think.