I need to stop writing while lying sideways on my beanbag chair, haha; my right pinky finger always ends up getting numb while I do that. Oh well, I've already written the chapter, and I can wake it up later.

On a more serious note, here's the sixth chapter of Escape from Thunderhead. Thank you to everyone who's been following this story, ten people currently. It means so much to me to see people having fun reading this tale.

With all that out of the way, enjoy!

"I know that was quite a note to end that conversation on, Lucas, but there are other matters to attend to."

We were walking along the beach by now, which consisted of large rocks piled on top of each other. The waves weren't as tall as they had been yesterday, but I still didn't envy anyone who had to swim in these conditions; my limbs still ached from that effort.

"Are you listening to me, Lucas?" the Village Elder asked me. But I wasn't paying attention; at least, not enough to justify answering him.

"I repeat: are you listening to me?"

I snapped back to attention. "What is it, Chief?"

"We're not done with your initiation yet. So why do you seem so distracted?"

"I don't know, Chief," I admitted. "It's just quite something to see the ocean again…and to know that I pushed my way through it like that…".

"So it's a matter of pride?" Leopold asked me.

"Yes, I guess it is. I just entered this world, and to know that I'm capable of such a feat is pretty impressive."

Although I certainly felt a beam of pride within me when I thought of having survived such a situation, I also knew in the back of my mind that arrogance was a quality nobody else appreciated.

To my surprise, however, Leopold chuckled.

"There's nothing wrong with a little pride," he told me. "Just make sure that it's not excessive. Everything in moderation, that's what they say."

"They always told me that lions were prideful animals," I said. It didn't take me more than a few seconds to know that I'd just made a serious misstep, as Leopold gave me a look more reminiscent of someone like Arkoon than his usual grandfatherly expression.

"I hate to break it to you, Lucas, but…".

"But what?"

"You need to relearn some words. The term "lion" is pretty archaic in this world, almost obsolete. In the past, people told each other stories about other worlds, those in which regular lions existed. But those fantasies are just that; fantasies."

I almost snorted right there. A few days ago, if I'd been given the option to move to the Pokemon world, I would have done it. At a minimum, it certainly sounded more fantastical than Earth.

But I didn't want to bring up the word zoo in front of Leopold. It most likely carried a negative connotation here.

"And that's why your arrival in this world is potentially a very bad sign" the old Pyroar continued. "I'm not sure why the powers that be sent you here, but if you're telling the truth, and I have to assume you are, it would disprove the notion that there aren't any other worlds."

"Well, I'm living proof of that," I said with a smile. Being the first person to do something felt like an honor.

And if I ever got back to Earth, having lived to tell the tale? I could write a book, give a million interviews, and make billions of dollars. It would be more than enough fortune (and fame) to escape the Southern backwater known as Forrest County.

Or maybe I could stay here. It might be hard for my peers back home to stomach the thought that I was gone forever, but it's not like I had an abundance of friends there anyway. Perhaps I could live like this.

But then Leopold grunted, looking at me as though he were about to decide what color casket I'd look good in.

"Lucas, your time here is going to be rough. If you are who you say you are, there will be a large amount of suffering involved. But first, let's have some fun!"

I flinched at the casual manner in which Leopold changed his demeanor. He'd done a total 180.

"Fun?"

"Of course. Since I've heard you're seventeen - ".

"How do you know that?"

"I have my ways," Leopold said flatly. "Anyway, when the villagers in Chilly Waters attain roughly your age, there are some coming-of-age rituals they take part in. And if you're serious about being welcomed here, that's what you'll have to do."

"C-coming of age rituals? You mean, like driving a car or getting your wisdom teeth out?"

"Pyroar don't have those. Anyway, these rituals are specific to our village. There's the tattoo, and then there's the ceremonial dance."

"Tattoo? The facility is regulated, right?" I wasn't necessarily frightened of needles, but I'd never gotten a tattoo before. Perhaps there has to be a first time for everything.

Leopold shrugged. "It follows our rules, and the Fulan government allows us to operate our village in an autonomous zone. We make our own regulations."

The Village Elder led me back into the village. It was getting more crowded on the main thoroughfare (or what passed for one), so even more stares were thrown my way. This time, I tried my best to brush them off. They didn't bother me; at least, that's what I wanted to convince myself of.

The tattoo parlor was yet another seedy-looking building; this one contained a sign over the door that labeled it as being a tattoo parlor. As soon as I saw the fine layer of dust covering the floor, I shivered.

"It's not going to hurt, Lucas," Leopold assured me. "The most you'll feel is a sting. Didn't you get your vaccinations as a kid?"

"I'm not afraid of needles, Chief" I responded sharply.

"Then you shouldn't be scared to get the tattoo. Just sit down in the chair, and I will do it."

I grimaced. "You're the tattoo artist here?"

"Our usual tattoo artist is out sick. She can't do it today."

"Then can't we wait until she gets better?"

"Lucas, stop being a coward. I can do the tattoos if I need to. I've done them before. Just climb onto the chair and sit still."

Reluctantly, I did as I was told. A rather old-looking mirror stood against the wall, and I saw my reflection in it.

Although I'd already seen what I looked like using the ocean's reflective properties, I still felt disarmed by the sight. It was quite something to look into a mirror and no longer see a teenage human boy, but rather a Litleo with dark brown fur and a shock of vermilion fur atop my head, almost like a mohawk.

"Hold still," Leopold instructed me. "This will only hurt a little."

I narrowed my eyes. "You said it wouldn't hurt at all. It was just going to sting."

"Lucas, you have two options here: Sit still and wait for the tattoo to be applied, or leave and not be considered a full member of our community. The choice is yours."

I grunted. "Fine. Just do it, and get it over with quickly."

The Village Elder sighed before getting a huge needle and hovering it right above my front left leg. It was the most massive needle I'd ever seen, the kind they probably only use on the sickest patients.

At the thought of said needle penetrating my skin, I began hyperventilating. But Leopold narrated what he was doing, which somehow made it even worse.

"Okay, so first I'm going to burn off some of your fur. Don't worry, it will grow back eventually, but the pattern will still be there when that happens."

My eyes widened. "You're going to burn my fur?"

In response, Leopold injected the needle into that leg, which felt like a standard injection at first; just a slight pinch. This was then, however, followed by the absolute worst pain I'd ever experienced radiating throughout that arm.

I screamed like a baby; I'm not going to beat around the bush here. It was as though the inside of my arm was on fire.

"You can be tougher than that, Lucas. Pain is temporary, pride is forever."

Regarding the latter statement, I had my doubts.

Ferguson: So the tattoo was painful, wasn't it?

Defendant: Yes. It hurt like a motherfucker.

(Audience gasps at the defendant's language.)

Ferguson: I would advise you to watch your tongue while you are in my courtroom, Mr. Teller. I need not remind you that anything you say can and will be used against you later. This is not a trial.

Defendant: I am well aware of that.

Ferguson: Your Miranda rights still apply here.

Defendant: I know that as well. May I ask why you want to talk about the tattoo? From my point of view, it seems like all you want is to humiliate me further. How is this tattoo relevant to the topic at hand?

Ferguson: Leopold, if such a character ever existed, had a point. Perhaps your inability to handle adversity has cost you dearly in life.

(The defendant did not respond.)

Ferguson: Anything, Mr. Teller?

(The defendant did not respond.)

Ferguson: Okay. It seems that we won't get anywhere in this line of questioning, so let's move on.

The process took what felt like well over an hour. Leopold talked me through it, of course; he explained that a tattoo needle had to go further into a Pokemon's body than a human's, so that its fur would change color.

I, meanwhile, wished I could have had something to bite down on. With how much I was gritting my fangs, I felt certain that I'd eventually chip one of them. Thankfully, this didn't happen, though it had been a worry of mine.

Anyway, just when I thought I'd found myself in my own circle of hell, Leopold put the needle down and smiled. "We're done," he said.

I could scarcely believe it, but the pain receded shortly thereafter. I saw that a new pattern, a bright red one, had appeared in the spot where such apocalyptic pain had been inflicted upon me.

The pattern consisted of two symbols. One of them was the outline of a Litleo, complete with eyes and ears. The other was the universal symbol of the Pokemon franchise: A pair of concentric circles connected by two horizontal lines. In other words, a Pokeball.

"Phew!" I exclaimed. "I'm sure as hell glad that's over!"

"We can work on your pain tolerance later," Leopold told me. "It left a lot to be desired today."

I rolled my eyes. At the same time, though, I couldn't deny that I was grateful my ordeal had ended. There was nothing else to say; at least, I didn't think there was until…

"Okay, that's the first ritual done," Leopold said. "The second one, of course, is the tribal dance."

Oh, shit!

I'd completely forgotten about the dance, even though the Village Elder had remembered it prior to doing my tattoo. The nightmare wasn't over after all.

"I don't have any rhythm" I muttered under my breath. For an old 'mon, however, Leopold's hearing was surprisingly acute.

"Good dancers are made, not born" the Village Elder replied matter-of-factly. "All you need to do is practice, practice, and practice some more."

"Huh."

That was the only word I could muster as my cheeks burned with the anticipation of embarrassment. Just a simple expression of confusion.

We walked for what felt like a very short period of time until we reached what passed for the village's main square. There was a long, low building that resembled something out of an old Western film. Right in front of that, there was a stage, where two Pyroar stood, twirling fiery sticks the way Braixen normally did.

"Now, change into your outfit for the dance," Leopold instructed me. "It's located inside the hall."

I was hesitant, but then, the old Pyroar had already done so much for me, so I had a very hard time saying no. "I will do that" I affirmed.

Once inside the hall, however, I saw that only one article of clothing sat on the floor. It was a simple circle, much like a thick belt, weaved out of pine branches.

Wait a minute - it wasn't a belt at all. It was a skirt.

I don't want to wear that thing, I thought, but I must. I'm going to look like an idiot.

Nonetheless, I managed to fit the pine wreath/skirt around my waist by jumping through it. It was somewhat large for me, and I worried it wouldn't stay up while I was actually doing the dance. But since the private parts of Pokemon are already covered by their fur, I didn't really care.

So I left the hall and saw that the pair of Pyroar still stood on the stage, strutting their stuff. They waved at the growing crowd every few seconds, and they received copious cheers.

I gulped as I fully processed that I would need to perform in front of a crowd. It would be the world's cheesiest music festival, in which a former human, now Litleo, would need to show off his moves in order to fit in.

And I was the star of the show.

Once Leopold saw me in that skirt, he grabbed my shoulder and promptly whisked me onto the stage. The crowd went wild.

But it wasn't a supportive kind of "wild''. Rather, the audience was laughing at me as they raised their cameras in the air, waving them like they just didn't care.

"There he is! What a clown!"

"They're going to have him do the ceremonial dance, but if he hasn't practiced, he'll be tripping over his own claws!"

All of those voices swam around my head, sowing seeds of doubt that would soon blossom into a forest. It was almost enough for me to slink off the stage and return to Sionne's house.

Almost.

But I knew that if my stage fright reached that level, the humiliation conga would only become more intense. They'd see that I was self-conscious about it, and they would become more emboldened to make fun of me.

"Okay, Lucas, let me teach you the choreography," one of the Pyroar, a female, announced quietly. "You'll do one step here, then one step back, and then spin around in midair, letting your skirt billow in the wind."

If those words sound generic, that's because they were indeed incredibly vague. My heart pounded and my stomach rose into my throat. I knew that the crowd was watching my every move here, and would be the first to judge me if I slipped up even once.

"That's a passable job" the other Pyroar, this one a male (potentially the female's mate) said with a smile. "Now, the main thing you want to focus on is speed. You need to show your audience that you've got passion."

"But what if I don't have passion?" I asked. That seemed like the least terrible option at the moment, because if I did show passion, and made it look like I was genuinely excited to be dancing, the embarrassment would grow.

"Do it anyway" the female Pyroar spat. "You have to show the villagers that you belong here."

No. I don't belong here. I belong on Earth, as much as I hate to admit it.

Still, I couldn't just throw a tantrum here; I had to perform for the crowd.

Outside of my view, someone started a rather simplistic drum tune. It seemed that the song this dance went with involved only the most rudimentary instruments. Oh well.

I saw both Pyroar begin to step in time with the music, and I tried to do so as well. That's the thing about dancing: You have to think on your feet, both literally and figuratively.

Before long, the horde of Pyroar, as well as the handful of Litleo in the audience, were struck down by chortles of laughter. They seemed to be having the time of their lives, at my expense!

The embarrassment led to anger, which led to even more embarrassment. You see, when you're feeling an intense emotion during an activity requiring memory and concentration, your efforts are likely to take a big hit. And that's when my legs began wobbling, not responding to my mental commands as much.

If he hasn't practiced, he'll be tripping over his own claws!

That exclamation, as it turned out, was prophetic. When I knew the song had to be nearing its end, it became time for the pirouette. But I was no ballet dancer - I'd always thought that practicing something like that would be humiliating.

But not as humiliating as not having the skill when you need it the most.

As I attempted the spin, I lost my balance and fell to the ground, hitting the stage hard. The wind was knocked out of me, as well as my dignity.

The music abruptly ceased, and only now that it was gone did I realize how beautiful a melody it had been. It was objectively quite good music, I just hadn't been able to enjoy it thanks to my anxiety.

More importantly, Everyone. In. The. Crowd. Was. Staring. At. Me.

"Is he okay?" a few gasped.

Most of the audience, however, were not so kind. The general consensus, amidst many different words used, was that I'd gotten in over my head, or that I hadn't practiced enough, or that I was just faking it. Perhaps all of those things were true.

The male Pyroar helped me stand back up, but he couldn't lift my self-esteem from its final resting place. "It's okay, Lucas," he whispered. "It happens to the best of us."

But I wasn't so sure. Surely the Pokemon wouldn't have it in them to laugh at everyone they came into contact with, especially the native villagers.

My cheeks burned as though I'd just scarfed down a very hot curry. I swore I could hear the steam coming out of my ears. And I realized how today had become one long gauntlet of mortification.

Some people say bad things come in threes. If that was the case, then after breaking a plate, wailing like a toddler during a tattoo application, and a disastrous dance routing, surely I was in the clear by now.

Right?

Ferguson: Well?

Defendant: Well, what?

Ferguson: Were you in the clear, Mr. Teller? Had you come to the conclusion that your day could not get any worse?

Defendant: That's what I thought.

Ferguson: And were you right about that?

Defendant: Unfortunately, I was dead wrong.

"Lucas, we need to talk."

Those were the first words out of Leopold's mouth once I got off the stage. I followed him over to a somewhat-secluded part of the village.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. Of course, I could have guessed any number of things, most of them having to do with how I'd made myself look like a complete fool.

"Well, it's not that something's wrong," the Village Elder responded quietly. "That's a strong word, after all, and I'm not certain that it applies here."

"Then why did you want to talk to me?" I all but snapped. After such a brutal morning, all I really wanted was to return to Sionne's house and have a quiet lunch with her.

"It's simple. There's something you must understand." Leopold's voice was a lot calmer than mine, which wasn't that surprising; he was a lot better at measuring his tone than me.

"And that is…what, exactly?"

Leopold took a deep breath before he continued. "The rituals aren't supposed to make you proud of yourself."

"They're not?"

"No. Just like anything else in life, they are meant to humble you. They're intended to teach all of us that pride comes before the fall. In some cases, that 'fall' is literal, such as yours."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't remind me."

"The point is, too much pride can be a bad thing. It can make you believe you have all the answers, and if you're that fractally wrong about something, it can be dangerous. The more confident you are, the more catastrophic it can get."

"Makes sense."

Leopold raised an eyebrow, ruffling his fur a little. "Would you please pay more than lip service? It sounds like you're just trying to get this over with."

"Maybe I am."

"Whatever" the old Pyroar responded, in a tone much more reminiscent of a high school clique leader than the genial, grandfatherly leader of a village. "But you want to go to lunch; I can hear your stomach growling."

He was right; I heard a rumble in my belly, and then became aware of my growing hunger. My stomach did not feel sour the way it typically did when I was embarrassed.

"Yes, indeed," Leopold continued. "I do not know the exact number; it depends on several other factors. But on the whole, Pokemon burn more calories than humans do. It's no wonder you'd be hungry after all that."

I didn't respond to Leopold; I was too relieved when I saw Sionne's home in the distance. The 18-year-old female Pyroar stood just outside her door, wearing a concerned expression.

"How did it go?" she asked as I got closer. "I wasn't there."

Phew. She wasn't there to watch me humiliate myself in front of the village. She won't have to be ashamed to live with me.

Still, I owed her honesty. And she hadn't done anything wrong - if she was embarrassed by me, that was her problem.

"It didn't go well" I admitted.

Sionne nodded sadly. "I wish I could make you feel better somehow. Oh well, I'm almost done with lunch. The Magikarp filets smell really good, like they're nearly ready."

My jaw dropped. "Magikarp filets?"

She nodded again. "Yes. That's one thing we eat here. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," I said quickly. "There's nothing wrong, I just…I didn't think we'd be eating fellow Pokemon."

Sionne shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

"Isn't it cannibalism or whatever? Doesn't it feel like a betrayal against the Pokemon race, or whatever term you use?"

She shook her head, motioning for me to come inside. "It's like a lot of other things in this world" she said simply. "We just do it, and we don't think about it until after we've done it. I've heard stories about Earth, after all."

You didn't even know Earth existed until yesterday, but okay.

Sionne continued. "Most humans don't seem to have a problem eating meat, even if it's bad for the environment. They eat some of the other animals inhabiting the planet alongside them."

"Your point being?"

"I'm just saying that the food chain is the way it is, Lucas. I don't like it any more than you do, but Arceus makes the rules. If you disagree with the way things work around here, take it up with Him."

"Uh, I don't know if I want to have a conversation with God" I muttered.

"It's not…okay, let's go back to an easier topic," Sionne said, transferring a pair of Magikarp filets onto a platter. "How did the dance go?"

I snorted. "That's not an 'easier topic'."

"You just told me all I need to know," Sionne replied with a slight laugh. Once she saw how my face gained a red tint, she continued with, "And there's no need to be self-conscious about it! I was almost as bad as you probably were!"

"I don't know; I fell flat on my face. Literally."

"Well, I'm sure Leopold explained to you the purpose of those rituals. After all, it's Arceus who put you here on this planet, and gave you what you have. And He can take it all away too, just like that."

On that cheery note, we began our lunch. The Magikarp filet was crispy, but not terribly flavorful. Still, the texture was pleasant, at the very least.

During the meal, Sionne would occasionally glance over her shoulder at the seat next to mine. She did this more and more often as the servings of Magikarp on our plates diminished.

"Why are you looking at the spot next to me, Sionne?" I asked eventually, not being able to handle the mystery anymore.

My hostess frowned. "What's it to you?"

"Well, I'm just curious," I admitted. "It looks like something is bothering you, and I'd like to know what it is so I can cheer you up."

Sionne shook her head. "It's nothing. I just keep thinking something's there when it isn't. I keep wondering if someone will show up there, if you know what I'm saying."

It increasingly seemed as though I wasn't going to get anywhere with this line of questioning. I decided not to pry any further, but I couldn't help but ponder this mystery anyway.

Right after I'd cleaned my plate (which was a little before Sionne had done so), a bell rang out through the village.

I frowned. "A bell? It sounds like a cowbell, the kind they use on a farm."

"You mean a Miltank bell" Sionne said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, whatever. So you ring a Miltank bell…when, exactly?"

"Whenever there's an important announcement that needs to be made," my hostess replied. "When the bell rings, you're supposed to congregate in the main square and await further instructions."

"So that's where we're going right now" I responded.

Sionne nodded.

"Well, then", I said, "I guess I've got an exemption from doing the dishes now!"

She snorted. "We'll see about that, Lucas."

The area outside our home, the residential segment of Chilly Waters, was practically buzzing with activity after the ring of the Miltank bell. Pyroar and Litleo of all ages were pushing their way through the crowd, and for once I had no trouble navigating the village - it was like a river of Pokemon!

The whole way there, I kept wondering what all the fuss was about. Could it all be related to me, the newcomer to this land? Or would I not be the center of attention for once?

Please be the latter.

We arrived in the "square", which was really just the largest clearing in Chilly Waters, and then Sionne and I were able to see what all the commotion was about.

In the middle of the square stood an average-sized human male who, for the most part, looked completely unremarkable. He was neither tall and skinny nor short and stout; his appearance would have been completely forgettable if not for his hair color: Cyan.

The blue-haired man, however, wore black robes that stretched behind him like a cape. He was clearly important, judging by the way the other villagers looked at him reverentially.

"Who is that?" I asked Sionne quietly, hoping the man didn't hear.

"That's a secretary from the official government of the Fula Region" Sionne replied in a somewhat exasperated whisper. "He hasn't been here in a while, but he's toured throughout the rest of the region. Whenever he comes by, it's bad news."

At that point, I didn't think I wanted to learn anything more. Unfortunately, "learning more" is exactly what I was about to do.

"Good afternoon, Chilly Waters" the man announced, using a brusque tone that suggested he did not consider the afternoon good at all. "I have something I need to tell you all.

"My name is Secretary Flowers, personal name Isaac Flowers. Those of you who have met me before will know that I usually don't come bearing good news. Unfortunately, today is no exception."

I noticed that Secretary Flowers held a sheet of paper in his right hand. Perhaps he was reading off a teleprompter, because his words sounded incredibly scripted. Just like a politician's - of course, he works for a politician, doesn't he?

"I regret to inform you all that there is a new arrival in your midst. Of course, this is likely common knowledge by now given how quickly news travels around here. But I will need to pull him aside to talk for a few moments."

After only a split second, I knew that Flowers was talking about me. I'd hoped that I wouldn't be chosen - I guess I wasn't so lucky this time.

"Bad things come in fours, don't they?" I muttered, quietly enough that I don't think anyone else heard me.

As though on autopilot, my legs carried me to the man's side. During my short walk, I was acutely aware of the eyes of what felt like most of the village on me.

Most of them seemed to pity me, but a few of them (probably the youngest, most naive of the group) appeared to believe that I was lucky to get to speak to such a clearly important person. I didn't have the heart (or chutzpah) to explain that it wasn't good luck at all.

Secretary Flowers led me away from the main square and into a part of the woods into which I had yet to venture. There were fewer buildings here and even fewer Pokemon, probably because most of the Pokemon were already in the square.

"So what is it?" I asked sharply once we were out of earshot from the other villagers.

Flowers gave a deep, frustrated sigh before he turned to me.

"First of all, from what I've heard, your name is Lucas Teller. Is that correct?"

I flinched, somewhat taken aback by this question. Surely he would have jumped right to the point; instead, he asked me something that he probably knew the answer to already.

Still, I nodded; what was I supposed to do, lie?

"Very well," Secretary Flowers continued. "Now, please don't ask me how I know your story. You'd be surprised at how reliable our information is; Chief Leopold gives us updates whenever he thinks we require them."

Did Leopold betray me to these guys? If so, the next time I see him, I won't be very polite.

My mouth, however, ejected different words: "So why did you want to talk to me? The way I see it, it's really not necessary. I'm just trying to make my life in Chilly Waters as pleasant as possible."

"An admirable pursuit, to be sure", Flowers replied, "but there are other things to take into account as well. For instance, I can only assume that you're well aware of the earthquake that struck Fula City not long ago?"

After everything I'd just been put through in the last few hours, I had nearly forgotten what Leopold had told me about the disasters that had shown up lately. He'd mentioned the Fula City quake just this morning. I nodded.

"Well, whenever there's an earthquake, there can be aftershocks as well. Often the aftershocks are even more destructive than the initial event."

A lump of dread settled in my stomach. I didn't even know anyone in Fula City, but I still found myself caring about the city's inhabitants. As it turns out, wanting to look out for the rest of the world isn't an exclusively human quality.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"What do you mean?"

"You could have delegated anyone here to come with you. But you chose me. Why is that?"

Secretary Flowers looked about five hundred years old all of a sudden. It was plain that he didn't want to be here any more than I did.

"Because", he continued, "you have a stake in this. More so than the others."

"I've only been in this world for a day" I all but whined. To this day, I'm not proud of the tone I used, but I think it got the message across.

"Maybe" Flowers responded softly. But then, narrowing his eyes and raising his voice, he continued with, "But you'd be surprised. We found a Litleo there who claims to be a familiar face. She knows you; or at least, she says she does."

"How is that possible?" I replied quizzically.

"Let's put it a different way: Why would she lie?"