Chapter 28: Intermission

For all her tough thoughts about scolding the Flareon when he returned, Bristle had few harsh words to spare for Ashen. As soon as she'd launched into them, his head had bowed in defeat and her frustrations quickly turned to guilt as each word sunk into him like a knife he wasn't bothering to avoid.

Her anger with his disappearance quickly turned to guilt and she ushered him off to bed. She had to be up early as usual the next morning for her new regular meeting.

Shortly before the crack of dawn she slipped from the base and made her way across the small town to a tall, crooked post. Her neck craned up to catch the shadow of the bird roosting above. Somehow, even in the dim light she could still feel Cindren's gaze piercing her.

"Well? Come on up," he instructed.

Bristle frowned at him. "Can you seriously not come down here? Not all of us have wings, you know."

The bird cocked his head at her. "You need to learn to humor people. Do not forget that my council is free. The least you can do is come to me."

Bristle muttered her opinions of that low enough the bird couldn't hear and thrust her flowers forward. Vines coiled out and tangled around the post, reeling her up in a few quick repeats, until she pulled herself onto the flat peak of the perch beside the Talonflame.

Cindren shuffled a few steps to the side to make space for her and nodded approvingly. "Protect good things, Bristle. Not everyone will have my patience," he warned her, commanding as always. "Now. How are things proceeding?"

Bristle sat one arm on her lap, while the other laid down against the post. Vines from it coiled around the beam to keep her secure as her legs dangled above the open space below, thirty feet from the ground.

"…Not well," she answered after a long moment. "Spritz is doing great. But everyone else…" She sighed. "Clicks doesn't do more than the bare minimum, Wimpod has made no progress, Rex is growing but he started so weak. And Ashen just constantly acts defeated. They're kind of terrible at this."

Cindren raised an eye and stared at her for a long moment. "I see. And what are you going to do about that?"

"About them being terrible?" Bristle asked, squinting at him. "I can't really do much about that."

"You can, and you must," Cindren replied sternly, nearly cutting her off. "You seek respect? You seek authority? You must pay the fee. Improve them. Make them their best."

Bristle instinctively recoiled from his sudden sternness, her vines keeping her safely tethered in place on the pole. She scowled. "By doing what exactly? Making one of them not a Wimpod? Making Clicks care what we're doing? Making Rex… less weak?"

Cindren rotated his body fully towards her and puffed out his wings a bit, rapidly shifting to his imposing aura. And that gaze only hardened.

"Ashen is defeated. Why? Address that. Rex is weak. If he is progressing, time is key. Find alternatives to raw strength in the meanwhile. Clicks is disinterested? Find the overlaps. Motivate him. And you are foolish. You must fix that as well," he said.

Bristle stood up, one arm still chained to the pole, and glared up at the bird in challenge. "What's that supposed to mean?" she growled.

Cindren didn't so much as flinch. "Your mother taught you that brute-force effort and fate are what you require to succeed. You learned to throw yourself at problems repeatedly without in any way reflecting on your failures," he recited factually. It sounded almost rehearsed. "This is not uncommon among my pupils. Without exception they fail to grow until I am able to correct that behavior."

"So what, you're recommending I just give up instead when I fail?" she shot back with a glower. "And what does my mother have to do with this?"

"In spite of her rank, your mother has few friends among the Crest. Pardon if I indulge in each opportunity to remind others of her failures," Cindren huffed a puff of smoke, a rare slip of emotion. "But the topic here isn't her. It's you. And the fact that you somehow conflate reflection with surrender."

"What does that mean, Talonflame?" she hissed.

Cindren cocked his head disapprovingly at her, and then rolled his eyes. "You are not stupid, yet you insist on playing the part… Very well, I will spell it out. You have failed. Do not try again- change strategies. Pick one of them. Any of them," he instructed, gesturing a wing towards their sparring field in the hills north of town.

Bristle followed his wing to the fields and paused. Exhaling the pent up air, she sat back down. "Wimpod."

She caught a rare wince from Cindren. "Someone else. He is… admittedly beyond my expertise. In some sense I look at him like a challenge, but certainly not one I should be teaching others on."

"Fine. Ashen."

The bird nodded, and his towering posture contracted a bit, settling down to something more approachable. "Very well. He is 'defeated'. What does that mean? And why?"

"How should I know?" she answered, glaring down at Quagsire's café. She flattened her flowers against one another anxiously. "He gives his best to things once, if at all, and then after he messes up he just puts half-effort into it. And you can see it in his face. He's not bothering because he thinks it's impossible."

Cindren nodded. He threw his wings wide- forcing Bristle to dodge to the side- and leapt from the post. He made a few swooping circles and drifted down to the fence below, looking up at her expectantly.

"Oh, now you go down there, you blasted bird," she muttered. Her vines partially untethered and she swung down after him.

Cindren gestured a wing down the street and hopped onto the ground. He folded his wings behind him and trotted on, somehow retaining his regal air even through grounded hops.

Bristle folded her arms and followed him through the winding, senseless paths of Tranquil Knoll. The town was always quiet, but at this morning hour they were truly alone in the light of dawn. They wouldn't be for long though.

"What have you done to convince him it's not impossible?" Cindren asked.

Bristle squinted at him. "What? I'm not sure I need to convince him of something completely obvious?"

The Talonflame let out a tired sigh as he hopped. "Because, Bristle. Regardless of how irrational his doubts are, they're still there. In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to prove it to him. But reality is what it is." He stopped hopping and jabbed a talon lightly towards her. "You can only focus on what you can change."

She remained silent, eyes on the dirt as she dwelled on it. Her gaze didn't raise until they passed by the base, and she shot a glance around the curtain to confirm her team was stirring.

"And because you have focused exclusively on what he's doing wrong, you have made no progress in fixing it," Cindren surmised, continuing when she never responded. "Where does that doubt stem from? A lack of confidence? Or have you discouraged him somehow?"

An awkward silence filled the air in response as Bristle pondered the question.

She hadn't really thought that far into it before.

"I don't know…" she confessed.

Cindren nodded again. "As I said. No reflection. Don't throw yourself at the problem a hundred times. Understand it well and solve it once."

At this point it was obvious where Cindren was leading her. They were exiting through the northern edge of town, on their way up to the training field. But Bristle was too distracted to wonder why.

There was a long, thoughtful silence before she spoke again.

"I don't know what to do," she said again, this time a bit meeker. "How am I supposed to understand him if he makes no sense?"

"Hmph." Cindren puffed smoke from his nostrils. His gaze became cold as he glared off at the mountains above. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be aimed at Bristle. "Another thing your education deprived you of. Understanding others is more useful on the battlefield than you might think. And absolutely crucial to lead."

His attention returned to the earth, and the ice melted from his expression. He seemed genuinely sympathetic as he looked back to her. "I'm afraid it's not a skill easily taught. It's one that comes with practice. You will need to train it like everything else. But it begins by asking and listening."

Bristle considered that earnestly as they stepped up to the field and Cindren took his place upon the tallest stone in the outcropping that overlooked it.

"Now. I had said my priority would be teaching you instruction and leadership," he reminded her. Something vaguely amused crept onto his face. "But that doesn't mean we can't review combat skills some."

Perhaps Bristle lit up a bit too eagerly at that, instantly hoisting her flowers in front of her and casting the bird a challenging glare. "Perfect. What did you have in mind?"

Cindren cocked his head at her appraisingly. Then he thrust his wings wide.

"You need to learn how to encourage someone who thinks their task is impossible, yes?" There was a glint in his eye. "Very well. I will show you despair," he crowed.

Talons pushed off the rock, and with startling speed the old bird rocketed towards her.

Rex really missed coffee.

It wasn't even really about the caffeine, honestly. Something about sitting atop a crate, staring at a map, and scratching at his jaw like an old-timey detective with a cup of joe would have felt so right.

Oh well.

The map had become a new fixation. For one, it was frankly just nice to freely browse a map of the damned continent he was living on. Figure out where stuff was.

Trespis was vaguely ovular in shape, horizontally. Fairly tall too, comprising a wide range of climates from what he could gather. An almost… inexplicable range, actually. Swaths of tundra occupied the northern end, while the south was apparently tropic. And while it was big, that still seemed a bit extreme.

He shrugged. He had no background in extradimensional geography.

The details of Trespis were really just for his own curiosity. What was important were the dungeons. Specifically, the long chain of disappearances.

Rex's initial thought was that there was absolutely no pattern to it. But after some closer examination, he was certain that there was absolutely no pattern to it.

But on a third pass… he was unsure. It truly felt random. Still under a dozen dungeons dispelled, but they were all across Trespis. From the far north to the far south, far east to far west. And they weren't disappearing in any pattern, geographically, either. It seemed Faith was fully abusing her teleportation to move and strike quickly and unpredictably.

There was one small pattern Rex could identify. He was guessing on how the dungeon classification system worked, but there seemed to be a limit on how intense the dungeons being dispelled were- the absolute largest had remained untouched. But she seemed to be growing more and more ambitious. He could maybe predict how large of a dungeon she'd tackle next, and narrow the list down from there, but that would still leave a pool of options. They couldn't watch them all indefinitely.

Still, in spite of it seeming largely random, something still felt off to Rex that he couldn't put his fing- claw- on.

The other trail was a bit more predictable. If he was attributing the dungeon disappearances to Faith, part of him wanted to attribute the appearances to Strife. But he couldn't quite explain why the two would be opposing each other like that.

The appearances were similarly spread out across Trespis but were definitely concentrated in the east. Flak Mountain seemed to be the general center point, which concerned Rex a bit. The mountain had been a fairly consistent theme in all of this. It was close to the center of the continent, so perhaps that was the true center of the appearances instead. But his intuition told him otherwise.

Even so, this information wasn't helpful. It was still an enormous range to cover, and a dungeon could appear anywhere.

After another session of staring aggressively at the map, as though his gaze would bore through it and reveal a secret beneath the ink, he finally sighed and rolled it back up.

Perhaps it was for the best. Even if they'd found Faith at the moment, they weren't prepared to take her. And it would be a long while before they were. They'd need a plan. Some kind of trick up their sleeves.

He sighed. That had been way easier said than done.

She wasn't entirely invincible- they'd proven that. Strong, yes. But they didn't need to play fair. They could ambush and overwhelm her.

The problem was that even entirely outnumbered, Faith could outmaneuver them with her mobility. All she had to do was split them up a bit, and she could blink between each of them one by one. They needed to take her out quickly, keep her still, or find a way to bunch together.

Again, easier said than done.

Rex sighed once more and stuffed the map away in its crate. He sat back down against the wall and stared down at his claw. A crackle of electricity ran down it. Annoyingly, he was part of the problem.

It was absurd. He could shoot lightning. And somehow he was still the weak one.

Why was that? Was it just the unfamiliarity with his own body? Or were his powers untrained? Leafeon had said he didn't have pain tolerance built up, but were the rest of his abilities on par with children as well? Where had he been placed on the totem pole when his body was transformed?

It was impossible to tell.

He'd managed to put up a decent fight with Bristle back in Flak Hollows, even if he'd lost in the end. But in all of their sparring and practice, he'd never even come close. Had he only gotten the hits he did from sheer surprise? Or had he been more fired up than he'd realized?

Against Faith he'd been worse than useless. He'd been a liability.

He stood up and admitted something to himself: Bristle wasn't the only one who needed to swallow her pride. He needed to improve, and Cindren refused to work with anyone else. He needed her help.

Rex stepped out into the main chamber to go join the others in practice, and motion immediately caught his eye. A small coin pouch flew up into the air. Then fell back down. Then back up into the air on the side of the room. Then back down. Clinking and clattering all the while. Rex stared at the floor- and the two holes in it- with only mild disbelief as the coin pouch warped between them, repeatedly reversing its gravity.

The cause of this display was, of course, Hoopa, who laid belly-down on his bed, hoisting his head up by his hands. He was watching this vacant amusement, but quickly turned to Rex as he entered.

"Hello Helioptile!" he instantly cheered up with that uncanny grin.

Rex hated that grin. Was that smug, shit-eating look because he thought Rex wasn't onto him? Or was it because he knew Rex was onto him, and that he couldn't do anything? Did he know that Rex knew that he knew?

Or maybe he was entirely innocent and just grinned like that.

Also a possibility.

"Why aren't you with the others?" Rex asked. He quickly found his own eyes unwittingly transfixed on the eternally falling coin pouch.

"Scary Talonflame showed up. Hoopa left. Why aren't you with the others?" he countered, with that same grating grin.

"Because I'm busy tracking down your problem."

The corner of Hoopa's lip curled tighter and his eyes brightened. He snapped, and the coin pouch flew out from the air beside him. He caught it without so much as looking and drifted up into the air.

"Ohoho… Hoopa thought you were scared of the crazy delver?"

Rex folded his arms and glared at Hoopa. "Yes. Yes I am. She's batshit insane, bloodthirsty, and ridiculously powerful. But need I remind you that you were the one to ask us for help?"

The imp flashed him a smug look. "Technically Hoopa asked Roselia."

Rex showed Hoopa his favorite claw before continuing.

"I haven't figured anything out just yet. But this will take time. In the meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how we capture her once we find her. You know anything that might help?"

"Hmm…"

Hoopa pursed his lips tight and raised his eyes in thought. As he did, his hands moved idly and formed two small rings above and below. He tossed the coin pouch into the upper ring, and caught it from below, jingling it a few times before tossing it again.

He nodded and looked back at Rex.

"Hit her until she passes out," he offered with a cackle.

Rex sighed and turned for the exit. "Truly the great mind of our generation," he muttered, wondering why he'd expected anything useful from Hoopa.

Before he could leave, though, Hoopa emerged from space in front of him.

"Okay, okay! Hoopa serious. The crazy puppet teleports too much. Disable teleport. Or learn to fight it. Hoopa doesn't know- delvers are supposed to be the experts," he said with a shrug.

"Disable it…" Rex echoed. "Disable it how? Is there some kind of gear for that?"

Hoopa shook his head vigorously. "Delving gear doesn't work on the puppet. Hoopa tried stuff. Eternatus power protects them. But disabling techniques still work."

Rex paused a moment, eyebrows narrowing. Something about that felt off about him.

"Hold up- she's immune to gear, but not natural powers?" he verified. "How does that make any sense?

"Hoopa dunno. Gearstuff just doesn't work on the puppet," Hoopa answered nonchalantly, drifting to the side so that Rex could continue walking out the door. "But techniques work fine."

"Huh," Rex mumbled. "Don't imagine you know any 'techniques' like that?"

For a rare moment, Hoopa's grin vanished as he stared flatly and dryly at Rex. "Do you not think Hoopa would have disabled the puppet's teleportation long ago if he could?"

Rex shrugged and started to leave again. "Hey, it was worth an ask. I'll check with everyone else too."

"None of them have it," Hoopa sang after him. "Best to learn to fight proper, anywho. In case she shakes it."

'Fight proper' Rex thought as he stepped out into the sunlight, and off towards the fields. What did that even look like, against a foe like Faith?

Amelia gave a hearty knock on the door.

"Sage? It's me. I've brought the drafts," she called in, voice almost smug and singsong. Amelia knew exactly what conversation she'd be having with Sage today.

There was a brief pause. And then an annoyed voice- "Come on in."

The interior of Sage's office was much unchanged. It still looked like the Simisage had yet to discover the waste basket, and as a result every piece of paper she'd ever scribed and every paper she'd ever read were thrown about the room- the lucky ones in piles while some simply littered the floor. Fleet's roosting rod was empty- the Pidgeotto was off somewhere for business.

Sage sat at her desk. But rather than pouring over a sheet of paper like usual, she was turned towards the door, arms crossed and glaring disapprovingly. As soon as Amelia stepped inside and shut the door, she held up a piece of paper.

"Care to explain what this is?" she asked accusingly.

Unshaken, Amelia leaned in and squinted. "This is my article on Solemn Meadow. It's been making quite a stir," she answered, smiling proudly. "But I'm getting the sense you're not as pleased."

She stepped over and sat down on the cheap stool Sage had begrudgingly purchased as a second chair, now that she had non-avian staff.

"Unapproved. That's what it is," Sage corrected her, her eyes scanning the paper with disdain. "It's bad enough that you passed it along without my approval, but it reads like a fantasy. 'Human savior'? 'Anonymous source'? 'Alleged'?"

Sage shook her head with disgust and tossed the paper back down on her desk. "This reads like you made it up. Or like you got pranked, believed it, and then published it."

"Oh, no, our source was no prankster," Amelia reassured her with a fake chuckle, crossing her legs comfortably. "I'm quite sure it's true. But we can't prove it without exposing them. Which was why I made it very clear these were allegations."

Sage's eye twitched a bit. "Allegations are the problem!" she growled. "We're here to tell people what's happening! Not what might be happening. Stars, I feel bad for that poor Helioptile if you're wrong. Even if you're right, that was quite the secret to drop."

It didn't help the situation at all, but Amelia couldn't help but give a small, pitying smile. Oh, how hopelessly naïve the poor Simisage was.

"What's happening? I don't think anyone truly knows what's happening," she said, her eyes drifting off in faux pensiveness. "I mean, think about it. Everything we write about we get from secondhand accounts at best. And even those, people can all experience the same thing and see it differently. Why, just on this story, I heard conflicting accounts of whether or not the spirit created a dungeon, just happened to hide in one, or- according to one person- was an apparition all along. And these were all from people who were there. If anything I thought I was being responsible by making it clear the claim was unproven."

Sage continued to glare at her disapprovingly for a long moment, letting her eyes and her aura do all the talking. She turned back around to her desk and picked up her pen, starting to scratch away rapidly at a sheet on her desk. It seemed to be an outlet for her frustration.

"The responsible thing to do is run anything you write by me for approval. If this happens again, you will all be seeking different jobs. Am I clear?"

Amelia forced a sheepish look onto her face and nodded. "Right. Sorry. I guess I just got a bit overeager." She rubbed the back of her head.

"Hmph." Sage said nothing more for a bit, letting the flick and scratch of her pen fill the air with an atmosphere somehow more oppressive than any words.

That had been the most dangerous part for Amelia. She'd well-known Sage would not have approved of the article. At least, not at first. She'd come around in time. After all, it wasn't just the guild. She'd heard the passing conversations while out for a light lunch or just taking a stroll down through the city. The news was spreading through gossip. People would be listening for the next update. Listening to Sage. And listening to Amelia.

"Your source." Sage finally spoke up again. "Who are they?"

Amelia blinked at her, seeming genuinely offended. "I can't just tell you my source. I've promised them confidentiality."

She huffed again. "Responsible, I guess. But doesn't do well to convince me this wasn't made up, or some kind of prank."

The two stared at each other in an awkward impasse for a long moment before Sage returned her attention to her work, still flicking her wrist sharply with annoyance.

"Drop the drafts there," Sage directed, pointing a specific stack of papers on the floor, indistinguishable to anyone from the rest. "I'll let you know when I have your next assignment."

The defiant part of Amelia wanted to snap back at the damned monkey for her attitude. But she knew better. Smile and play the part for now. Which was what she did- cast the Simisage a farewell nod, and retreat back into the hall.

The smile vanished as soon as she'd shut the door, and she stomped down the spiraling stairs pissed off. The stuck-up bitch of a Simisage wouldn't know a good thing if it hit her. Amelia had been hoping to ride her coattails for a while, but it was clear she'd need to constantly be driving her 'superior'.

Perhaps it would be best to start brainstorming solutions to that problem early.

She passed across the skywalk to another tower and through one of the living quarter lobbies. As she tried to step into the center stairwell, however, a voice called across the room for her.

"Amelia, wait!"

She turned to see a Riolu in a small cape jogging towards her, Fennekin bounding behind. Team Blur. Small travel bags were tied around them, and they seemed unusually serious.

"Oh. Good afternoon, kids," Amelia offered, plastering a smile onto her face and waving. "You're still helping Geoff with his research, right? He sending you off on an adventure?"

She had relegated the responsibility of investigating the so called "Ether Seal", which stored the power to open rifts between worlds, to Geoff. Unsurprisingly, his search hadn't turned up a thing yet, besides old legends. But they had to start somewhere, and she was making connections all the while.

Blue shook his head, no space for his usual bravado. "No, we've uh, got something else to look into," he said. Fluffy was watching him anxiously. "We just wanted to ask about your article. The Helioptile… is he really a human?"

Amelia held her smile, but silently she was inspecting them intently, trying to figure out what had them all bothered.

"Well, that's what my source told me! It's hard to believe, isn't it? A human!" she chuckled.

The duo didn't seem to find it half as funny, shooting each other a knowing glance.

"Did your source say anything about where they came from? Why they're here?" he pushed.

"If they had, we would have written that, you know!" she responded with faux cheer, raising a single finger. "I get that you're excited to learn more. But you'll just have to wait until we have updates on the story, like everyone else." She winked.

"…Alright," Blue answered, hardly paying her enthusiasm any mind. He looked back to Fluffy and patted his bag. She nudged her head towards her own. "We're going to be gone for a few days," he warned Amelia. "Sorry for the short notice. But we'll keep helping Geoff when we get back."

Amelia concealed her frown and nodded. "Of course! Just let us know when you're back. And good luck, you two!"

She waved them off and stepped into the stairwell as she'd planned, leaving them to finish preparing for… whatever they were doing. It was in her nature to prod into everything. It was her job, even. But now was not the time. She'd have Geoff wriggle it out of them when they got back.

Wimpod had nestled himself tight between a few rocks. It wasn't particularly comfortable- almost nothing ever was. But being concealed in a tight space brought him some small sense of security, quieting the maddened part of his mind just enough for him to pass the panic attack by.

Bristle had been of a particularly foul mood today- having already been fuming on the field, covered in scratches and soot when the others had arrived. She'd yet to take it out on anyone- besides several snarky remarks to Rex- but he could sense the danger. Danger of the greatest degree.

She could hit him. Scream at him. Kick him. Attack him. Hurt him. Kill him.

He was acutely aware of every way in which she could harm him, at all times. Whether he wanted to be or not. And not just her, either. Any of them. All of them.

At every waking moment he was in danger.

Even now curled up amid the stones, he was still in a bit of danger. But it was so much less. Maybe he could just stay here forever. Give up on this crazy idea of evolving, and just… be as peaceful as he could for as long as he could until the inevitable end.

But that was still going to be hard to do, because his sense of danger was increasing. Something was watching him- he could tell. Seeing straight through the stones to monitor his every move.

Wimpod wriggled deeper, until he was practically immobilized in the stone. He tried to stop his little heartbeat lest the sound gave him away, but it was only beating faster.

And he could still feel the gaze.

He was going to have to run. He choked on a deep breath, failed to steel his nerves, and flew out from his crevice with a pitiful squeak.

In an instant a shadow was overtop him, moving at impossible speeds.

A single talon rained down and pinned his tail to the earth like a meteor from the heavens. Wimpod shrieked and struggled, his mind showing him an impossible number of ways in which he could be disemboweled, as he squirmed helplessly in mortal panic.

Cindren stared down at the bug unamused by the antics and waited patiently for him to run out of energy struggling. "Fight it, Wimpod. You know I'm not going to hurt you," he commanded.

After another moment of flailing, Wimpod went limp.

Not because he was done, though. The fear- the constant thoughts of dismemberment- had become too much. His mind was shut off, and all that remained was instinct.

He span around and fired a stream of scalding water directly at Cindren's face.

The old instructor was prepared, however, and ducked to the side letting the blast splatter into the grass behind him. Like lightning, another talon slammed down and locked Wimpod's head in place so he couldn't look up.

The Talonflame was far, far stronger than him.

"I've had about enough of this," Cindren growled. He leaned his beak in close to Wimpod. "If I want to eat you- you can't stop me. I could do it at any moment."

Under normal circumstances, that might have been enough to give the bug a heart attack. But his mind was already checked out. He could hardly process the threat.

Cindren pulled his head back though, careful to keep Wimpod pinned in place.

"The fact that I'm not eating you means I don't intend to. And we'll stay here until you see that. I'm patient."

Wimpod continued to flail and struggle and fight, firing pitiful squirts of water at the space below the bird for several minutes straight. Eventually, his energy went the way of his mind, and gave out on him. He collapsed limp on the dirt, barely conscious from exhaustion and still unaware.

Cindren tilted his head and finally released his grip on Wimpod's head- careful to still keep his tail pinned.

"Are you done?" he asked.

An empty, feral stare was his only response.

Cindren sighed and shook his head. "You're not even aware. Your very civilization has left you. Very well."

The talons clenched tighter around his tail. There was a brief pressure against the dirt, and then they were skyborne. Wimpod wriggled limply in his grasp, reinvigorated slightly from the sudden newfound acrophobia, but his energy was still spent.

The fields streaked by below, the figures of Bristle's guild bunched together in one spot and staring up at them with a mix of disappointment and concern. It was a short flight down towards the hill, where Cindren settled to roost in a small tree right on the edge of town.

The Talonflame shifted his talons on the branch and settled down, growing comfortable. A few Pokémon walked by and cast curious looks to the Wimpod hanging from his clutches, but he simply nodded politely to them and did not acknowledge it. They would simply assume it was an odd catch for lunch.

"Patience is a key virtue of my profession," he explained pointlessly to the incoherent Wimpod. "We will remain here until you can speak again. Fear is exhausting. Eventually, you will grow too tired."

With that, the two fell into silence. A long silence. Cindren was not one for empty boasts. He sat, roosting on that branch, as the sun streaked slowly across the sky. As Pokémon walked by and silently inquired. As Rex came, seeking the bug, and entrusted him to keep watching them.

Even as his own stomach began to rumble, the Talonflame kept his grip tight.

It took nearly two hours for Wimpod to slowly regain awareness. But even as he did, he didn't speak up.

He was tired. So, so tired… And what was there to say? 'Please put me down'? Why? So he could run away again? If there was any saving grace, it was that he probably lacked the energy to flee anymore.

His ever-perceptive captor seemedto take notice of the lucidity on his own, though.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

There was a long delay before Wimpod answered in a mutter. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes. It does." Cindren lifted Wimpod up, and finally set him on the branch beside him, careful to keep his tail pinned still. "I'm not letting you go until you answer."

Again, a delay. Finally- "I'm tired. Very tired." There was a teary, pitiful look in his eyes. Like that of a wounded child.

Cindren nodded in understanding. "Physically, or mentally?"

"…Both."

Again, and empathetic nod. "Your kind were perhaps one of Lord Arceus's greatest cruelties. The fact that you are here at all… You have been tired for quite a long time, haven't you?"

Wimpod nodded meekly, on the verge of crying.

"Hmph." Cindren eyed Wimpod appraisingly. The intense stare was, of course, making him quite uncomfortable. But he was far beyond the power to do anything about it. "Perhaps that is exactly what you need," the bird finally concluded.

"B-being exhausted?" he clarified.

"Yes."

Cindren removed his talon from the Wimpod's back, freeing him up to flee. But at least for the moment, the bug remained. If nothing else, due to lacking a safe way to leap from the tree.

"When people sink to their lowest… That is when they find the drive to change. Or when they surrender entirely." Cindren cocked his head at the bug. "You grow tired of your fate. Will you defy it, or stop trying?"

Wimpod wriggled back nervously, glancing aside to escape the bird's piercing gaze. But that wasn't enough. He could still feel it.

"I- I don't know," he confessed. "I want so much for it to end… "

Cindren shrugged, and turned his eyes up to his own roosting rod in the distance. Then off to the fields to the north.

"I'm sorry to say I've never worked with your kind before. If there is a 'trick' to fixing your head, I do not know what it is."

Wimpod's eyes sank. "I… understand. Thanks for trying… And making me calm down," he murmured.

Cindren nodded, and as the Talonflame crouched for a takeoff Wimpod yelped.

"W-wait! How do I get down from here?" he asked frantically.

Still braced for takeoff, Cindren eyed him a moment. Looking regretful. "I believe you can figure it out."

The bird launched off and took to the skies to stretch his wings after the long hours of rest, leaving a very confused and tired Wimpod up in a tree.