They reach the small but picturesque town of Cortondo the following afternoon. (Feeding a fully grown furfrou in a single-person tent is not something Ninette ever wishes to repeat; arceus only knew what Elias made of the sounds coming from within.) Ninette had discovered that if they had a slow enough pace, the flittle could keep up with a leisurely walk, but Elias picked up the pace upon sensing her haste, so they only did that a few times.

Cortondo is ringed by olive trees and sprawling pastures. She can see why the Grand Whatever is around here, given how many orchards there are, plus more smoliv than one can shake a stick at. The pokémon had gradually changed, too, away from fletchling and hoppip and more toward smoliv and fairy types. She sees the fidough that Elias' mother had tasked him to catch, but also igglybuff and jigglypuff, too. She makes a game out of humming to them as they pass, and without fail, every one tries to sing back to her.

"Do you like every pokémon?" Elias asks her as they duck underneath another set of lower branches, cutting through an orchard to get to town (something he'd assured her was perfectly fine and not illegal to do).

"What's not to like? Every pokémon has a charm point or two," Ninette replies. "But fairy types are really cute." She tosses a grin back over her shoulder at the line of bouncing igglybuff behind her.

"I thought you'd want to go find a wooloo right away."

"Might as well see the town if we're this close. Not sure if I'd ever come all this way again, even if I visited the region again, you know?" Not to mention the fact that she hadn't seen any wooloo. More mareep, most wild but some in obviously marked pastures, but not a single wooloo. Still, it means the ecosystem is perfect for them, right? How different could wooloo and mareep be when it came to food and temperature needs?

"It's not a very big town, but there is a gym here, and specialty stores for different types of oil. Oh, and there's Patisserie Soapberry, a famous bakery owned by the—"

"There's a patisserie here?!" Ninette shrieks.

"Yes, it's famous for its cupcakes—"

Ninette is already sprinting down the hill toward town.

She has already gotten through the line and stolen an outdoor table for herself by the time Elias catches back up. Didn't even look like he ran, but leisurely strolled his way into Cortondo, as if it isn't an incredible thing that a town this size would host something like a patisserie. And not just any old bakery, oh no, but a Patisserie Soapberry! Ninette had attended the grand opening of the one in Lumiose last year. She'd eaten herself very literally sick.

"I'm not sure we can eat a dozen cupcakes between us," Elias says, skeptical, eyeing the box on the table before her.

Ninette leans protectively over the box, already sans two cupcakes, and returns, "What do you mean 'us'?"

Elias stares at her.

Ninette stares back.

She had planned on saving one for Théodore—Patisserie Soapberry is famous for all of their menu being pokémon-safe without sacrificing flavor or quality—and she supposes the flittle could have a miniscule bite of that one, considering how small she is, but that had been the extent of her generosity. Elias is a nice kid, and doing her a favor, but not that big of a favor.

"Well, okay then," Elias says, unruffled, and sets Shadow down on the back of the other chair like he's saving it for him. He wanders inside with the same casual pace he always defaults to if he doesn't have a Kalosian stylist desperately hurrying their schedule along.

"I'm not being selfish, I bought these all by myself," Ninette tells the wattrel opposite her. Shadow cocks his head in that too-steep way all bird pokémon do. "Plus, kids who have rotom phones out here? I think he can afford a pastry or two. And look at how pretty these are!" She'd gotten the Jeweled Dozen set and had taken two dozen pictures to match. Each cupcake has been perfectly dusted with a gradient of the tiniest sprinkles so they glitter and gleam in an artfully arranged rainbow.

Shadow hops from the chair back to the table. He eyes the cupcakes with another tilt of his head.

"If you go for it, I'll pluck you," Ninette warns.

Shadow pretends very hard like he's invested in preening himself.

By the time Elias wanders back out, a plate with a cupcake and a small donut on it in hand, Ninette has polished off another three donuts. She had weighed the pros and cons of sneaking off for some privacy to release Théodore so he could have his treat fresh, but she wasn't going to leave Shadow unattended, nor could she think of a way to find a place for said privacy in the middle of a small town short of breaking into someone's vacation home.

"Here, we can share. If you like sugar?" Elias says to his pokémon, sounding unsure. Shadow raises his wings and allows Elias to shuffle him aside in favor of making room for the plate.

Shadow, with all of the glee of a freshly trained pokémon unused to human dessert, shoves his entire head inside the cupcake's frosting.

Ninette snickers into her sixth cupcake.

"I guess you do like sugar," Elias mumbles. Then, peering up at Ninette, he adds, "And no question that you like it, too, huh."

"I have a bit of a sweet tooth," Ninette primly replies and sucks a dab of frosting off her thumb. "And this is one of the best bakeries in the whole world. You can have that on expert authority."

"I thought you haven't been here before."

"They opened one in Lumiose City last year! I visit every pay day, and when it's someone's birthday in the salon, the bosses always order something from there for the staff." She's practically drooling just remembering it, even with so many cupcakes already in her system. Ninette finishes the cupcake with a slower, more dignified air. Half the box gone. One saved for the pokémon. Five more for dessert after dinner that evening.

She knows through much experience that six cupcakes is her hard limit for a single sitting.

"You sound so… worldly," Elias says, wistful, staring at her instead of policing his wattrel attempting to bathe in the cupcake in front of him.

"Well, I live in another region, plus I'm older than you." Fluffing her hair with a giggle, Ninette pretends like it doesn't tickle her to be called something like worldly. She's decently well-traveled within Kalos, both thanks to her work as well as her mother's job, but not so much outside of the region. This jaunt is new for her on many fronts. But it's nice to hear that she's handling all of this with a worldly air.

Elias doesn't seem jealous, nor does he seem like he's moping, but some sort of strange, third thing. He appears extra subdued. But at least he finally pries a couple bites away from Shadow to properly appreciate the world-class sweet treat in front of him.

He hums, thoughtful, but doesn't say anything. Shadow dunks his head into the donut next. Ninette sighs at both of them.

"So, what's next on your agenda? You're not one for the gym circuit, right?" she asks, looking away from the sugary atrocity occurring in front of her. She won't be the one cleaning that bird, that's for sure.

"I may have to get a badge or two to gain access to certain areas more easily," Elias replies, "but no, I don't care much about battling."

"Are you going to start your painting today, then? For that big orchard? Or, no, you have to do a sketch first? Except with a landscape, it's not as if it's moving, so… I don't know the process for painting very well," Ninette admits with another sigh. So much for sounding worldly.

"No, it still starts with a sketch," he replies, a touch eagerly. She can't help but look at him and finds him bright-eyed, leaning forward, at attention in a way she hasn't seen from him yet. "I only just thought of this—but you must have taken art classes in Kalos, right?"

"Just what was taught in school… Well, no, I did take an extra class on color theory as an elective."

"I've taken a couple of online classes, but I would love to study abroad one day. In a few years. I want to study from Mr. Hassel for as long as I can…"

Ninette snaps to attention like a ding of an alarm went off. She has a name now. And it does sound kind of familiar, too, no less. "Mr. Hassel, is this your art teacher?"

"Yes, he teaches all of the art classes at the Academy. He's very talented…" And wow, he trails off with a dreamy sigh. The kind Ninette would use to describe those cupcakes. "Which is why I want to show him something really special. So I don't want to rush the process. I'll probably spend a day or two here to really take in all of the olive orchards before settling on where I'd like to paint. …And I have to catch a fidough around here, too."

Ninette desperately wants to go back to talking about this art teacher of his. She wants to see if Elias will get all rosy-cheeked and demure again. She knows how to spot a crush, and it wakes every unfulfilled Annoying Big Sister teasing instinct to have this presented to her so clearly. Except she needs two things to manage this: she needs a few more details, and she needs Elias to realize he's going to be teased. Otherwise, what's even the point? It's not as if she can pull up a picture of this man on her phone to confirm or deny his swoon-worthy status.

Well, Elias could, on his fancy rotom phone.

Ninette opens her mouth to needle him in that specific direction, but he preempts her. "Could you teach me?" he asks with an unfairly accidental batting of his eyelashes.

He's gonna have his fair share of crushes on him in five or so years… Good genes are unfair. Ninette wishes the addition of an incredibly messy wattrel beside him ruined the kicked growlithe look at all. He's too dangerous. "Teach you what?" Ninette asks despite every atom of her being wanting to demand to see his phone and have glorious internet privileges once more.

"How to catch pokémon," Elias says like this is a totally normal request to make of an international semi-legal stylist.

"…Huh?"

"Is that okay?" Elias continues with an even sadder frown, his disappointment delicate and ethereal like he's secretly a fairy type, too. "I don't have any experience—I've never done much with pokémon before, and you seem very talented with them. You taught me how to handle Shadow. I'd like to catch this fidough first so I have a little bit of time with you, before we part ways, in case there is some kind of issue you could advise me on. Even if it's as simple as letting me watch you catch that wooloo, I feel like it could be helpful…"

"You want me. To give you advice. On catching pokémon?" Ninette barks out a laugh that's a little meaner than she intends. His frown dips into a pout. "I'm not a trainer! I'm even farther from a trainer than you are!"

"You have that flittle."

She cringes. "That was an accident I'm going to rectify before leaving. I've never caught any pokémon, either."

"You caught that flittle."

"She was almost dead at the time!"

Elias doesn't press her again. Ninette rubs her fingers around her stinging eyes, wishing she hadn't had that outburst, and hopes all of this stress isn't going to make her any more temperamental.

"Look," Ninette says with fresh, forced calm, fingers steepled over her cupcake box, "I am not a trainer and I wouldn't call my accident any kind of experience. But if it would make you feel better, you can tag along with me while I hunt down a wooloo this afternoon, and if you catch it today or early tomorrow morning, then I'll check over your fidough with you. But they're really easy pokémon, so I doubt there will be any problems. Probably a reason why your mother wants you to catch one so bad."

"…That would make me feel better," Elias admits.

It strikes her, then, that maybe he's as nervous and flighty about this pokémon journey thing as she is. Neither of them are trainers, though she maintains that he's closer to one than she is, but she is older and has experience with pokémon in a broader sense. She can assuage the worries of a newbie for an afternoon. It's the least she could do for the escort here.

And maybe she can hear more about this Hassel guy while she's at it.

Turns out, while Cortondo and its neighboring hills and vales are pretty and deceptively gently sloped, it is not easy to trek through it all day. The soil around the orchards is soft enough for their shoes to sink in just enough to make stepping a pain. And while the trees are spaced to allow for maximum growth, and it looks like it'd be easy to survey the area for wooloo, it's not. All of the branches and trunks meld with one another, as well as the rich soil, destroying any sense of distance and hiding pokémon shockingly effectively. They nearly step on way too many smoliv.

So hunting down a wooloo is not an easy endeavor.

Two hours in, Ninette's a sweaty mess and redoing her hair for the fourth time. Elias hasn't had a single complaint, though she can see that he's struggling, too. But if he's not complaining, then how could she? She's supposed to be the cool, worldly type who is graciously taking a younger kid under her wing for the afternoon. This struggle is supposed to be part and parcel of pokémon training.

This is a huge reason why I didn't want to become a trainer, too, she grouses, privately. Ninette is not averse to the outdoors. (She's averse to spending the night outdoors, but that's a different issue.) Nor is she any stranger to exertion or getting disgustingly sweaty.

But she doesn't think any of this is fun. She doesn't go hiking (willingly), she doesn't care about the thrill of the hunt, and she is not built for the bright sun here. Not to mention that her boots, what she had thought of as sturdy and all-terrain, are fighting for their lives in this loamy mess.

The hill they look up at now seems to be pretty and delicately sloped.

Ninette and Elias, panting for exertion, exchange all the communication they need with a single sideways glance to one another.

They turn around and tromp back down the way they came, even if there were certainly no wooloo there.

"Want to take a snack break? I'm getting hungry," Elias says.

Ninette practically plops down then and there. "Yes," she groans. The cupcake box, precious cargo that it is, had been balanced precariously as to not upset her sweet treats. And while they were anything but heavy, the corner of that box had been digging into the small of her back for the past hour.

Elias spreads the picnic blanket out and they both collapse gratefully upon it. Ninette is going to miss not carrying so much camping gear by herself. Turns out, trainers had it right when they decided to travel in little groups.

But now that she knows how to make bank in Mesagoza, maybe she only has to rough it back there, then she can do a hotel, get another flying taxi to and from Los Platos to release the flittle, then be on her merry way. It's not like she's here to make money; she only wanted to break even with a wooloo.

Except wooloo are apparently rarer than she'd anticipated.

It's okay, it's still early, she says and peers up at the hot sun. She needs to reapply sunscreen soon. Or, based on the tightness in her skin, thirty minutes ago.

"Aren't your cupcakes going to melt?" Elias asks with preemptive pity.

Ninette scoffs a laugh. "They put in those little cooling gel packs—they aren't amateurs! And they certainly seem used to the climate here. Is it always this hot?" she asks, fanning herself with her hand. Actually, why bother with that? She digs into her cupcake box and comes up with the true treat of a still-cold gel pack. It feels wondrous against the back of her neck.

She grabs the other and tosses it over to Elias. He makes a surprised, then contented sound. "Now are they going to melt…?"

"They can survive a few minutes, I think. Plus one of the cupcakes was made with rawst berries, so it keeps chilled well."

"You know a lot about berries, too," Elias remarks.

Ninette peers over at him. He has that delicately sad look on his face again. "Well," Ninette starts, overly casual, "you learn a few things in my line of work! Nothing that won't come with experience, though. Not as if I sat down and read a berry encyclopedia." (She had.) "But look at it this way—I don't know a thing about painting, so if we were talking about that, you'd run circles around me. We're just getting lucky with the Things Ninette Knows About topics."

"Yes, but…" He trails off with the universal frustration of a kid unable to explain his feelings properly.

Ninette thinks of the rainbow cupcakes in her box and her naturally dyed high fashion pieces at home. "Berries are used for coloration—like paints, too, right? So you would know—" She doesn't get any farther than that in her attempted distraction before he takes the bait.

"I got a watercolor paint set for my birthday last year where they used actual occa and passho berries for the vibrancy they offer," Elias says while practically bouncing in place. "Sitrus, cheri, and chesto berries are commonly used, you can find them very easily in any kind of paint set, but occa berries are very difficult to extract color from, so usually red pigments rely exclusively on cheri berries, but then you can't get the same depth, and that's especially important in lighter paints like watercolors—"

"See, I didn't know any of that!" Ninette desperately breaks in, mostly so she can guarantee that he'll take a breath.

Elias sits back on his heels and conspicuously catches his breath.

"Sounds like you know a lot about berries, too," she adds with a smile.

He mostly returns it, so she considers the bonding activity successful.

She slips the somewhat melty gel packs back into her cupcake box while Elias digs out some kind of crumbly granola-esque bars out of his bag. She is ninety-nine percent certain the reason why he has so many of them is because his mother stuffed an entire box (or two) into his things. Ninette takes one with murmured thanks and realizes they'll have to head back to town for more water soon, if only to survive eating another of these dry but likely incredibly healthy bars.

She wants him to catch a fidough… Ninette has absolutely nothing against fidough. They're cute, almost always are perfectly behaved in the studio (unlike houndour), and smell so nice. But she has some less-than-kind thoughts about a parent shaping their child's life so much. Giving a starter is one thing. Giving advice, too, and having preferences are just fine.

Still, not her business. Ninette knows better than to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. And if she wants to get into the gossip mood, then she has that art teacher topic to grapple with.

They meander through the olive orchards again. It's no easier to traipse through the soil now than it was earlier, but by heading vaguely back toward town, at least they're more downhill than uphill. Still way too many smoliv, still plenty of jigglypuff to hum to, and not a single wooloo in sight.

A few fidough, though.

"You want to try?" Ninette asks, coming to a stop near a fence. She nods to a trio of fidough on the other side, dozing in the sun.

"Huh?" Elias looks like a deerling in the headlights.

"You know, a fidough?" she prompts. And she receives further blank staring. Ninette has to ask. "Do you want one…?"

"I have to catch one?" he replies, perplexed, and she drops it. "Oh, you mean right now." He fidgets, eyes askance, tugging at his uniform's tie. "I thought I was going to watch you, first… Is that okay?"

So he's still nervous. Ninette sighs, but she won't push. "Alright, we can still do it that way. At least we know fidough aren't rare around here. Have you thought of any names yet?"

"I haven't caught it yet. Why would I have a name?"

"Why wouldn't you?! This is going to be your pokémon!" For a terrifying moment, she fears that his mother also will name his pokémon. She'd assumed Shadow had been his choice, generic enough to be named by a ten-year-old, but now, she's not so sure.

"I don't know if it'll be a boy or a girl, though?" Elias points out.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, that's why you have two lists!"

"That sounds too complicated…"

On a hunch, squinting suspiciously at him, Ninette asks, "Do you have a list of potential painting titles you'd one day like to use—?"

"Of course I do," he replies before she truly finishes the question. She smirks at him, and Elias scowls, which is the second most expressive she's seen him yet. Her triumph grows. "It's not the same thing at all! Stop looking at me like that!"

"Sure, sure," she sings.

"Well, what are you going to name your wooloo, then?" he demands.

Ninette scoffs and tosses her pigtail over her shoulder. "Woowoo, of course."

Elias stares at her, frown dropping off, replaced by something she can't parse.

Ninette isn't self-conscious, she reminds herself, but she can admit to being defensive. "It's cute! And gender-neutral so it doesn't matter what kind of wooloo I eventually catch!"

"Okay…"

Nothing can account for taste. She wonders what his fidough will eventually be named and how much judgment she should reserve. Most of the fidough she's seen at work have names like Cupcake or Crepe. Then again, there have been plenty of names from work she has judged—usually along with other stylists—so maybe she needs to stop thinking of others' naming schemes entirely.

They circle around the dozing fidough and continue stomping through the orchards.

They refill their water back in town, shake off as much soil from their shoes as possible, then stick to a path to head back out. They see more fidough to catch, but Ninette doesn't bring it up again. They're burning daylight and fidough are the easy part. Wooloo, apparently, are the hard part. Considering how commonly their wool is used, Ninette had assumed they themselves would be commonly found, too.

They use the path as much as possible, even if it's winding and pokémon aren't quite as near it compared to how they lounge about in the orchards. But it's so much easier to walk on. They pass the occasional other trainer and more than occasional farmer, over half of them with pokémon trotting along at their side.

As if guilty, Elias releases Shadow. The wattrel squawks once, then takes to the sky to circle overhead. Elias doesn't seem to mind the distance.

Ninette looks at him, then up at his bird. If she just got a new-ish pokémon, she'd be paranoid about it straying too far. Thank arceus wooloo can't fly.

Théodore would probably like walking through all of this. Then again, he knows that his fur is currently unstyled; he'd probably make a combee-line for the messiest, muddiest patch of loam and roll around in it.

How would the flittle react? She's a little too slow with her psychic floating to run around like a furfrou could. But would she want to? Or would she be content to remain nearby, like Shadow overhead?

Ninette spots something and shouts without meaning. "Ah!"

Elias jumps and whirls around to where she points. "Did you find a wooloo you want?"

"Pitchoun!" Ninette coos and rushes up the path.

The skiddo hops over to her with a happy bleat. Ninette doesn't even have to get her berries out before it's butting its head against her hip, stubby tail wagging furiously. Ninette scratches its ears and it leans more and more of its weight against her.

"Oh, I thought you saw a wooloo…" Elias walks over, sedate as ever, and stands awkwardly beside her instead of reaching for the very friendly pokémon. "Do you know this pokémon?"

"No, not really. I mean, I know skiddo, they're practically the national pokémon of Kalos! Yes you are, yes you are!" Ninette says and moves on to chin scritches.

"It seems to know you, I mean, it's so friendly."

"No, that's just how some pokémon are. Skiddo were probably the first domesticated pokémon, did you know? Because they're friendly like this."

Elias hums, noncommittal, but Ninette isn't having any dubiousness. She grabs his wrist and drags him over to pet the skiddo, too. And the skiddo, true to form, keeps wagging its tail and begins to lean into his touch as well.

Another skiddo wanders over, and a pair of smoliv watch from the fence boundary. Ninette finally digs her berries out and both skiddo bleat in joy. Ninette pushes an oran berry into Elias' hand, though the skiddo eats it halfway between them. "You might as well get used to pokémon eating messily. I saw how Shadow tackled that cupcake earlier," Ninette warns while Elias stares at the skiddo licking berry juice from his fingers.

Shadow wings down and lands on Elias' beret. Both skiddo look up at him, and Shadow peers back down, but no animosity arises.

"How do you know if a pokémon will be friendly like this or not…?" Elias asks.

"Body language, mostly. But I happen to know skiddo fairly well, and furfrou, too. Once you get to know Shadow better, I bet you'll be running up to wild wattrel to say hi. But see, here? Skiddo are one of the pokémon whose wagging tails mean they're happy."

"There are pokémon who aren't happy when they wag their tails?" he asks in dismay.

"It's not like you're gonna get tested on this, but feline pokémon aren't happy when their tails wag," she replies wryly. "But with a wattrel and a fidough, you won't have to worry about that. Wattrel seem like pretty average bird pokémon and fidough are really easy to read. You'll do fine."

"If you think so."

"I do!" She jostles him, friendly, and one of the skiddo takes it as invitation to headbutt him in the chest. Elias wheezes but doesn't fall over, at least.

Personally, she'd recommend a pokémon like a skiddo to a quiet, mildly nervous kid like Elias. They're friendly, can handle almost any terrain, can act as pack or ride pokémon, and are adorable to boot. But for someone not aiming to be a trainer and who may or may not have a team planned out for him, he probably doesn't need to care all that much.

They part ways with the skiddo after a lot more petting and a few more gifted berries.

"Why don't you catch one of those? You're good with them," Elias asks while Ninette waves farewell to the skiddo.

"I already know how to groom them. I'm good at it. I want a wooloo because I don't know how to groom them. Have to learn somehow, right?"

"You can't practice without having a wooloo?"

Ninette shrugs, then shakes her head with a laugh. "You can't find wooloo wild in Kalos. And even raised for their wool, they're really rare, and not anywhere near where I live. Trust me, if there were an easier way to go about this, I would've looked into it already. But they're cute and easy to raise, so I'm sure I can handle it. And then I'll learn all the secrets of wool!"

"Will you catch a wooloo soon, then?"

"Huh?" Ninette looks around, in case one has popped out of the orchard in the past couple minutes. No luck. "I'd love to, but we haven't seen any yet today."

"Yes we have?" Elias replies, confused.

"…No we haven't? I'm not blind and I haven't sweated so much I'm crazy with heat. Are you?"

Elias frowns, harder, annoyed now. He gestures down the path in the direction the skiddo went. "We have passed so many of those pokémon. I thought you were just being picky because you wanted something specific. I don't know anything about wooloo but you do, or you seem to, but you haven't even chosen one yet? I thought you were in a hurry."

"We haven't seen a single wooloo all day today!" Ninette insists. She stomps for good measure, hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not picky, I just want a wooloo! That's healthy and not too old or not too young, but that's not being picky at all!"

Elias gestures even harder down the path. "Then go catch one so I can watch."

Ninette realizes something very bad right then.

There are mareep grazing in the direction he gestures. They've seen mareep dotted around the grassy areas all day. Ninette had sighed fondly and moved on, because she's not ready for a mareep yet.

"Elias," Ninette says, very seriously and very afraid of how she'll feel upon hearing his answer, "what do you think those fluffy pokémon over there are called?"

"Those are the wooloo you described. Fluffy, round pokémon that people shear for wool," Elias retorts.

Ninette wants to scream.

LIST OF NINETTE'S CRIMES SO FAR:

+International travel without valid visa
+International travel under false pretenses
+Travel as a non-training minor without parental permission
+Intent to capture pokémon without training license
+Intent to smuggle pokémon across regional borders
+Transport of trained pokémon without valid visa
+Transport of purebred furfrou across regional borders without valid visa
+Theft of pokémon
+Misrepresentation of professional skills
+Accidental injury of pokémon
+Capture of pokémon without valid training license
+Capture of foreign pokémon without valid visa
+Pokémon grooming without valid professional license
+Pokémon grooming without valid local license
+it's about to be murder too