History
"What do we have, here?" A sinister voice pondered. It was hard to see, there was smoke obscuring the area. The smoke was coming from the many burning wooden buildings.
"Are you trying to hide from me?" The voice spoke again. The smoke had cleared a little, revealing a small fox-like creature cowering under the rubble of a collapsed shack.
"You shouldn't do that, hiding only makes it worse." The voice laughed. The voice belonged to a large, male humanoid figure, hovering a foot above the ground. He was dressed in tattered white clothing, and had large, tattered wings. He looked much like a comic book super-villain.
"IceDevimon plays a lot more rough with those who hide from him." The cowering fox shook more frantically, knowing full well that something very bad was in store for it.
"Whoops, were you using that?" IceDevimon said as he flung away the debris that the small fox was hiding under.
"HELP!" The little fox cried out in a juvenile voice.
"Too late for that. I have a lot of fun things in store for you." He reached his long, out-of-proportion arm down to have his clawed hands grab the little furball.
"Not so fast! Howling Blaster!" A large beam of blue flames struck IceDevimon from the side, knocking him over. A large, white-and-blue, wolf-like creature followed the beam, pouncing on the knocked over evil-doer.
"Garurumon! You saved me!" The little fox exclaimed.
"That's what he'd like to think." IceDevimon said. Recovering from the attack, he knocked the wolf off himself, turning the tables.
"Viximon! Leave now! Escape while you can!" Garurumon cried out before IceDevimon tackled him. IceDevimon began to choke him.
"NO! Garurumon! I will help you!" Viximon cried. She jumped up in an attempt to headbutt the evil creature, only to be swatted away by a flap of his wing.
"You are too weak, fur-ball." IceDevimon menaced. "I'll deal with you once I'm done with him." He indicated the helpless wolf in his grasp.
"Go…" Garurumon barely managed whisper out of his mouth. Viximon teared up, and quickly ran into the woodline.
"I'll get you, like the rest of you fur-balls. More specimens for the collec…" IceDevimon yelled out after her, his voice trailing off as Viximon ran deeper into the woods.
Renamon thought deeply about her past, pondering what it was like for her to grow up. It seemed very different from how her tamer described his past. Much more strife, much more violent. She wandered if he would be able to understand. She looked at him. He was waiting in earnest for a reply.
"Well, the earliest memories I have were as a Relemon in the daycare of my home village. I do not recall having parents. I do not rightly know if digimon have parents as you described yours. I suppose my parents were Garurumon and Lilymon. They were the keepers of the daycare and were village elders. Their jobs were to care for and train the young digimon who resided in the village. Garurumon taught survival and practical skills, while Lilymon taught myths, history, and philosophy. Those were the happy times." Renamon smiled as she recollected her youth.
"I was friends with many of the other in-training digimon in the daycare. We ate and played games together. We each digivolved from our fresh forms, myself digivolving from Relemon to Viximon. We grew stronger and smarter together. That all lasted a few years." Her smile faded from her face. 2LT Joseph became concerned.
"One day, the village was attacked by a group of virus-types. They were led by a brutal commander, IceDevimon. They burned down the village and killed most of the elders. Many fled, but many others were captured and enslaved. The daycare was raided. IceDevimon liked to freeze in-training digimon and put them in his collection. I barely managed to escape with my life because of the gallant actions of Garurumon." She began to tear up. "He sacrificed himself for me." She started to sob.
2LT Joseph was shocked at the sad details of the burning of her village, and shocked to see her cry. He couldn't help but realize how safe he had been growing up. He knew being an American had its privileges, but didn't think Renamon grew up in some sort of digital third world country in a civil war. He hugged her, letting her cry into his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry for what happened to you as a child." He consoled. "I won't make you go into any more detail, okay? I'm here for you."
"Thank you, Mike." She sniffled, trying to compose herself better. She moved on, talking about the rest of her life after that.
