Special Chapter: The Deepest Wounds, Part 3

The winding path eventually led to a deep, foggy wood, marking the entrance into Nagrobek's Mystery Dungeon. Pyry and Pekka made their way in, dutifully inching along the path into the Distortion. In it, they'd found the floors of the Mystery Dungeon to consist of thickly wooded spaces, with dense undergrowth making all but a few spindly paths and clearings impossible to traverse quickly. All the while, floor by floor, the two noted that the trees around them seemed to be shorn of leaves, flowers, and any sign of life at all... much as if they were making their way through a forest of skeletons.

"Blegh, this place gives me the creeps," Pyry muttered. "What's with all these dead trees? It looks just like that illusion back in the prison."

"Beats me," Pekka harrumphed. "Maybe there's something wrong with the soil, or the water, or…"

A faint wooshing noise filled the air, followed by the sound of the surrounding earth creaking. Pyry and Pekka's eyes shot open wide at the sound, recalling from tales they'd heard at sea that the floors of Mystery Dungeons were periodically swept clean by the Distortion by an all-consuming wind. Pekka looked around anxiously, every further second without hearing any sign of life seeming to confirm his suspicions that the wind was far from a good omen.

"Er, actually I think we got other things to worry about," the Trapinch gulped.

"Th-That doesn't sound good at all…" Pyry whined. "Weren't Pokémon that stuck around when the wind blew like that supposed to get hurt and hopelessly lost?"

"Let's- Let's just stay calm and take things one step at a time," the antlion insisted. "We can do this. We can find a way out…"

Pekka looked around, seeing nothing but boggy water and impassable walls around the clearing. After hearing the sound of shifting branches, his glance shifted to a small passage where a pathway split off for a large collection of dead-looking trees.

"Like there!" he cried. "Those groves are bound to have something!"

Pyry and Pekka darted ahead, hurrying down the passage to a small chamber covered by the branches of dead-looking trees overhead. The shaded space seemed to be bare of anything of note, with the exception of a clump of shriveled leaves, along with a curious orange lump that poked out from it.

"Huh?"

The two Ground-Types inched forward where they saw that the orange lump was the form of a Growlithe lying limply in the dirt. Pyry tilted his head and eyed the dog, noticing that its eyes were closed and that no sound or sign of movement came from its body.

"I think it's dead," Pekka grumbled. "Just leave it and let the Distortion take care of it."

"I mean, it doesn't really smell dead…"

Pyry waddled over to the Growlithe, eying the sprawled-out Fire-Type closely as he settled down by it. He reached a claw out and moved it towards the dog's hindquarters, only to catch the sight of its bushy tail and curiosity to get the better of him. The land shark tugged at it when the sound of a loud, high shriek rang out, prompting him to tumble back with a start as its very much alive owner jolted upright and wheeled around wide-eyed in a panic.

"Eyaaah! Idź stąd! Idź stąd!"

"E-Easy there! We- We don't want any trouble!" Pyry yelped. "We were just looking for a way out!"

"H-Huh-?"

Wooosh

The sound of the wind returned with renewed force as the three Pokémon felt the gust nip at their bodies and hear the surrounding trees groan and shudder from it. Pyry and Pekka watched as the color flushed out of the face of the newly-awakened feral, prompting their blood to chill and the Trapinch of the pair to look nervously about his surroundings

"Uh… veikka?" Pekka gulped. "We should really get out of here right now."

"I know that, alright!" Pyry snapped. "Do you see anywhere to-?!"

Elty began to shrink back with a frightened whine, only to pause and raise his ears. Pyry and Pekka trailed off as they noticed the dog raise his head and sniff at the air, before looking off down a passage amongst the stone-like trunks and take off running much to Pyry's alarm.

"Hey!" the Gible cried. "Wait up!"

The two Ground-Types chased after the Growlithe as they heard the wind come back once again. The whistling winds had transformed into a howling gale, as the pair found themselves having to shield their eyes to keep pressing forward. When the wind cleared, Pyry looked around in alarm to see that Elty had vanished, with naught but footprints left behind, prompting him and his teammate to follow them, where they saw the Growlithe clambering up the base of a set of stony stairs. Pekka's eyes widened, realizing that the feral must have sensed a way to escape, and here he was about to run off and leave the stairs to seal up and leave them behind!

"Wait!" the Trapinch pleaded. "Stop!"

Elty carried on a few more steps, before slowing and looking back down at the two scarved strangers. Pyry and Pekka watched as the Growlithe waited on them, the newfound ray of hope giving them the strength to dash for the stairs as the winds kicked up again. The pair tore up the steps alongside the feral Growlithe as the sound of rending trees rang out and the wind prompted them to lose their footing and stumble onto the next floor. A blast of wind came out, prompting the three to shrink back and close their eyes, as the sound of creaking and groaning stone gradually sealed it away with an audible click that left the three panting and gasping for air on the ground.

"That was way too close," Pekka wheezed.

"Yeah, thanks for waiting for us, feral," Pyry murmured. "You just saved our hides back there."

"You're welcome… I guess…"

Pyry and Pekka righted themselves and looked over at their Growlithe guide. The feral seemed to lack any joy in his escape, or for that matter fear from his encounter or their presence, or much of anything other than an oppressive sense of moroseness. The two pirates traded looks with one another, wondering what to make of this new stranger.

"Well isn't he the little pill?" Pekka harrumphed.

"Maybe something's up with him."

Pyry began to pace forward, leaving Elty to tense up a moment, only to drift back into his depressed, deflated mood after the land shark stopped and began to eye him curiously.

"What was going on with you anyways?" the Gible questioned. "You were just lying there earlier even though the Distortion was acting up!"

"… I wasn't really thinking about it," Elty answered. "It just didn't seem like there was any point."

"Um, not getting blown around to gods-knows-where by the Distortion?" Pekka demanded. "Sounds like a really good reason to me!"

"Yeah, you're a feral here!" Pyry added. "You oughta know this place like the back of your paw!"

"You're wrong! Mama was always there to help me along!" the Growlithe insisted. "To look out for me and help me find my way! Then- Then-"

Elty's voice hitched, his eyes dribbling tears as he began to dissolve into sobs in front of the pirate duo. Pyry and Pekka shrank back uneasily at their guide's sudden outburst, prompting the Trapinch to scuttle up and try to nose at the dog's shoulder to calm him.

"T-Take it easy there! It's alright!" Pekka insisted. "You're okay right now!"

Pyry watched as Pekka's attempt at comfort fell on deaf ears and the Puppy Pokémon continued to bawl. The Gible blinked incredulously a moment, his mind turning back to Sirmia at the wooded path. She said that she had a child… could this be…?

"Wait… this 'mama'…" Pyry began. "Would she be Sirmia?"

Elty sniffled a moment, only to blink and raise his head out of surprise. The Growlithe's face was a mess, stained with tears and matted fur, but in the midst of it all, a strange befuddlement had settled over his eyes, much as if the Gible had proclaimed that the sky was a vibrant scarlet.

"H-Huh? How do you know that name?" Elty stammered. "Pokémon like us never tell them to others we're not close to."

"I mean, we just spent most of the day in a cell with her," Pyry began "And-"

"You saw her?! Wh-Where is she?!" the Growlithe asked. "Please, you need to take me to her!"

"I… I… think that we need to sit and talk this through a moment…" Pekka said.

The Trapinch began to recount their tale, telling about how they had been members of a crew of pirates that had been ambushed by a Company ship at sea and then captured and transported to this island. As the Travellers above would've willed it, they had spent their time in captivity in the same cell as the young pup's mother, and had escaped from the prison with her. They then told of how they made it to town in the hopes of escaping, only to be forced to flee inland and forced to split off from Sirmia before making their way into the Mystery Dungeon...

"And that's how we got here," Pekka concluded.

"But… where is she now?" Elty pressed. "You said that she was with you, right?"

Pyry and Pekka stiffened up and grimaced at the Fire-Type's question. The Growlithe plodded over, nosing insistently as Pyry stammered, struggling over his words of how to share what they knew of his mother's fate...

"I… I mean she… Uh…"

"I hear them!" a whinnying voice cried. "They're on this floor!"

The three froze, the blood draining from their faces as they realized the voice to be none other than that of the violet Zebstrika. Further hammering in the realization was the brusque, rough sound of an Abomasnow's voice calling out after the Electric-Type.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" the Ice-Type jeered. "The rest of the guards are gonna sweep this dungeon top to bottom anyway, so there's no point in hiding!"

"Who knows, maybe if you come out now you won't have to work as hard at The Pit with the rest of the scum!" the Zebstrika added.

Pekka grimaced, looking around anxiously before tugging frantically at his Gible partner's fin and pulling him back.

"We need to get out of here, now."

"Wait."

The two looked up and saw their feral guide looking back at them. Far from the panic they expected from the Puppy Pokémon, the Growlithe carried a peculiar sense of determination about him, as if he had been expecting this moment to come all along.

"Let me help you," Elty insisted.

"This really isn't a battle you want to pick, little guy," Pyry murmured.

"Yeah, we had to run off the last time we encountered them!" Pekka exclaimed. "You coming along isn't going to magically tip the scales in our favor!"

"I'm not planning on fighting them," the Puppy Pokémon insisted. "Just take that path over there and trust me on this."

Pyry and Pekka traded looks before following uneasily after the Growlithe. Elty led them down a path that ran along a rocky gully, before coming to a pool in a clearing hemmed by trees where the path split left and right. The dog faltered a moment, lowering his head to sniff at the ground when he headed off left, before his ears suddenly perked up and he turned back at the following Ground-Types.

"Go to your right and wait a moment," Elty instructed, prompting an incredulous scowl back from Pyry.

"Shouldn't we not be just sitting around here when there's those square-necks hunting for us?"

The Growlithe didn't answer back, taking a few steps forward before sitting a few paces from the left passageway's entrance. Pyry furrowed his brow confusedly and raised a claw after the Fire-Type, only to hear the sound of a low growl and feel his blood chill as he spotted the lavender-scarved forms of the Abomasnow and Zebstrika duo from earlier rounding the corner sporting fresh-looking scuffs and burns.

"There you are!" the Abomasnow growled. "Should've turned yourselves in when you had the-"

"Hey!"

The two guards blinked and peered down at the sound of a yipping growl. There before them was a scruffy Growlithe with no scarf about his neck, with his body crouched and his teeth bared in fierce hostility.

"This isn't your territory! It's mama's! And it's mine!" Elty snarled. "So go back to your stupid village and leave us alone!"

The Growlithe's snarl drew back dismissive scoffs, with the Zebstrika among the guards shooting an aside glance to his partner.

"Have we run into this yippy little ankle-biter before?" the Zebstrika grumbled.

The Abomasnow frowned, training an insistent stare on the Growlithe that deepened into a growing glare as he began to realize that the pup seemed familiar… and for good reason.

"Grr… we have," Ice-Type growled. "You're that little brat who spat fire in my face last week!"

"Well come closer and get some more, cepy!" Elty barked.

"Rrr! Come on, let's crush these twerps!" the Abomasnow shouted. "After what that lousy Arcanine earlier put us through, she could use a few extra cellmates anyways!"

The Ice-Type let out a deafening bellow before he and the Zebstrika charged forward. Pyry and Pekka turned and began to bolt off, only to look back and see Elty still sitting, unmoving in the face of the quickly-nearing Company underlings.

"H-Hey! What are you doing?!" Pyry cried.

"You can't just stand there like that!" Pekka added. "You'll-!"

"Yah!"

The Growlithe stood his ground until the guards were but a few paces from him, when he sprang back and bolted. The Abomasnow lunged ahead, swinging at the Puppy Pokémon only to feel his hand strike empty air and feel the ground shift underfoot.

Click!

"Hey, what the-?!"

BOOM!

In the blink of an eye, a deafening, fiery blast filled the clearing, strewing chunks of dirt and wood into the air. Pyry and Pekka shielded their eyes as dirt and dashed fragments of trees rained about them, cracking them open warily to look back and feel their jaws drop at the sight of the two guards strewn about fainted in the middle of a smoldering crater with the Growlithe walking up with a proud wag of his tail.

"Like I said. I wasn't going to fight them," Elty insisted. "I sniffed out that Blast Trap earlier and figured it would take care of those two."

"… Good dog," Pyry murmured. "I wouldn't have expected you to come up with that."

The Trapinch and Gible made their way over to the guards, where Pyry noticed a shredded bag by the Abomasnow's feet and an intact one around the Zebstrika's shoulder. The two wrenched the bag free, taking it for themselves as the Zebstrika let out a loud groan, prompting Pyry to deliver a stiff kick that shuffled the Thunderbolt Pokémon back off into unconsciousness. The pair craned down, collecting the contents of the Abomasnow's destroyed bag when they spotted the Growlithe coming up behind them, peering curiously.

"Where are you going after this?" Elty asked.

"Towards the sea," Pekka answered. "Laying low in the Dungeon obviously isn't going to work if those guards are searching it. So if we have any hope left of getting off this island, it's through there."

Elty paused a moment, before lowering his head and tail, giving a deflated shake of his head.

"I… I guess that's reasonable," the Puppy Pokémon murmured. "You're sea-walkers. That's your home and you don't have anyone waiting for you here…"

"What would you do if you didn't?" Pyry asked. The Gible's question prompted the young Growlithe to fold his ears back, as he hemmed and hawed over what to say back in response.

"I… I mean, I hadn't thought about that, and…"

"Don't force a decision, Pyry," Pekka murmured, before turning his attention back to Elty.

"Look, I don't really know what you want, but we certainly can't stay here and you're a lot more familiar with this island than us…" the Trapinch offered. "If there was anything that you could do to help us get to the sea…"

"I think I know how to get there. I mean, I never went there myself, but…"

Another groan came from the Zebstrika, followed by a second one from the Abomasnow. The three flinched, turning around as they watched the two guards beside them begin to shift and woozily start to right themselves in the charred crater.

"Agh… what happened?" the Zebstrika groaned.

"Ungh…" the Abomasnow wheezed. "Why does everything smell like smoke?"

"Come on," Pyry insisted. "Let's get going before they get up."

The three turned and rushed off, slipping off into the maze of dead wood as they left the site of the Blast Trap behind. All the while, Pyry and Pekka quietly watched after the young Growlithe, wondering what to do with the news about Sirmia when he was in such high spirits...


"Ah! I think that's it!"

The young Growlithe's course led him and his followers through a winding path through the Mystery Dungeon's levels, though by the late afternoon the three had made their way through the surrounding mist of the Distortion and onto a high bluff under the light of a westward-drifting sun. Before them, Pyry and Pekka looked down at rolling green hills that cascaded down to a gray-sanded beach, the two staring in disbelief at the deep blue of the ocean in the distance.

"Well, it's certainly one way of getting back to the sea," Pyry murmured. "I just dunno where we should go from here…"

The Gible trailed off as he heard Elty barking excitedly before bounding off into the grass ahead. Pyry and Pekka went wide-eyed at their guide's sudden departure, darting ahead, only for the Growlithe to suddenly come bounding back and run circles around the pair as they tried to keep their eyes up with the Puppy Pokémon.

"Oi! What are you doing?!" Pekka cried.

"Running around!" Elty yipped back. "The dungeon never has anywhere as open and free as this!"

Pyry and Pekka narrowed their eyes and traded dubious looks at one another, before turning back to their overly enthusiastic guide.

"Uh, yeah… we can see that…" Pyry grumbled.

The young land shark raised a claw to his brow and peered off towards the sea, scanning the shoreline until he saw a shock of gold. The Gible paused, squinting his eyes until he could make out that the gold color was coming from sails swaying in the wind, attached to a caravel that had been run aground on the beach next to what appeared to be signs of movement.

"Ah! There's a ship down there!" Pyry cried. "How fast do you think you can run down there?"

"Heh! Just you watch!"

Elty wagged his tail and bounded off ahead down the hill, tearing through the grass barking happily as Pyry watched blankly. Pekka gaped open-mawed at the hills and the rapidly-departing Fire-Type, before flailing with spluttering indignation.

"Pyry, why didn't you ask him to lead us?!" the Trapinch snapped.

"I… uh… thought he'd be slower?" the Gible answered, before raising his head to call after his departing guide. "Hey Growlithe, wait up!"

The two darted after the Puppy Pokémon, pushing their way through tall grass as fast as their stubby feet allowed. Fortunately, the Growlithe's course took him on a zig-zagging path as he stopped to romp and run around among the hills, allowing Pyry and Pekka to catch up near a path leading down a seaside bluff, when a shadowy ball suddenly zipped in and sliced through the air overhead, making the lot jump up in a panic.

"A-Aaah!"

"I see them!" a voice from behind cried. "We've got escapees dead ahead!"

Elty, Pyry, and Pekka, turned and watched as a Linoone, Monferno, and Butterfree in lavender scarves came over the ridge of the hill above. The Growlithe and his companions lowered their heads and ran as fast as their legs could carry them as the Linoone pursued them, the Monferno and Butterfree swinging around onto the beach below.

"Cut them off and don't let them slip past you!" the Monferno shouted.

"Hey wait a minute," the Butterfree said. "What's that ship- Agh!"

A hail of stones suddenly sailed through the air, slamming into the Butterfree and his teammates. The Bug-Type groaned, twitching from under a small pile of stones as the Linoone staggered up along with the Monferno and eased back into a battle stance.

"We've got incoming hosti- Eyaaah!"

The Linoone yelped as a red blur swooped in a buzz, a stiff punch knocking him to the ground. The ferret staggered up trying to regain his breath, only for another punch to hit him, and another, the Normal-Type looking up in a panic to see a Ledian zipping over him and trying to pin him to the ground.

"Get it away, get it away!"

The Linoone lowered his head and charged ahead in a panic, weaving around another punch from the harrying beetle. The Normal-Type tore ahead, making a break up the hillside when a steaming jet of water caught him from behind, sending him tumbling limply down as a Floatzel watched with a harrumph of approval. Keenly aware that he was now alone and outnumbered, the Monferno ringleader flew into a wide-eyed panic, backpedaling and looking wildly for any sign of nearby allies.

"A-Agh! Where's that backup?!" the Monferno whined. "We need-!"

The monkey froze and looked up as a hulking, steel-headed form of an Aggron charged in with his head held low, which slammed into the guard's face. The Fire-Type pinwheeled back, coughing as he tried to stagger back up, leaving the Steel-Type to bring a heavy slam of his arm against the Pokémon's back. The Monferno shrieked before slamming against the ground with a thud and lying there, leaving Pyry, Pekka, and Elty panting as they watched the Aggron motion back over towards the Floatzel and Ledian.

"Rodion, Kichiro. Bring these square-necks down to the beach and keep them tied down," Hess ordered. "We don't need them getting reinforcements."

"It's Keiichiro, and you didn't have to tell me," the Ledian answered. "I vote we ransom these sad sacks to make up for this fiasco of a raid."

"I doubt it would be worth our effort. The last time we tried to ransom square-necks, the Company didn't pay a single thaler and it was the local selyane who paid up," Rodion chided. "If it wasn't for the fact they did puppet shows back in their town that the kids liked, we'd probably have taken a net loss on that raid from the provisions we had to waste on them."

"It could still work!" Kichiro insisted, drawing a roll from the Floatzel's eyes.

"Tell me, who here in this dump is going to vouch for a bunch of imported thugs?" Rodion scoffed. "They'd eat more than we'd be able to get for them, and why should I have to deal with them if we press-ganged them?"

The Floatzel shook his head, before he raised a paw to his muzzle and whistled, bidding a small party of scruffy Pokémon in gold-and-silver scarves to arrive and help drag off the fallen guards. The three youngsters watched as the golden-scarved Pokémon set off back towards the ship, only to cringe as the air behind them filled with a low growl.

"You three," Hess growled. "You're coming with me."

Elty, Pyrym and Pekka shrank back, before pulling their heads in and follow the Aggron for the beach. There, they saw the gray sand teeming with Pokémon in golden scarves, setting to work haphazardly fitting planks against the hull of a caravel beached in shallow waters as a bucket of pitch was heated over a makeshift fire. The three guards from earlier were drug along to a stone outcropping where the Linoone and Butterfree were tied down to the rock, with a Purrloin and Jigglypuff working on binding up the remaining Monferno when his eyes suddenly shot open wide.

"Eyagh!" the Fire-Type cried. "Let go! Let-!"

The Monferno thrashed and knocked back the pirates with a spinning, burning somersault, only to run up the beach and Hess to slam his fist down on the monkey's head. The creature groaned and tottered, pitching facefirst into the sand as the Purrloin and Jigglypuff came back and drug off the fainted guard. As the Monferno was carried off, a small crowd of golden-scarved Pokémons drew near to form a rough circle around Elty, Pyry, and Pekka, with the Aggron captain at its head.

"Who are you three and what do you think you're doing leading those square-necks to my ship?"

Pyry and Pekka gulped and inched back from the glowering Aggron, the Growlithe with them shrinking back and trying in vain to hide behind the Ground-Type pair at the sight of the hulking creature's fangs. Pyry quailed, waving his claws desperately to try and persuade the surrounding pirates that he wasn't a threat.

"Y-You've got it all wrong! We're from the Devastating Drakes!" the Gible yelped. "These 'mons ambushed us!"

"Yeah! We were escaping from the prison!" Pekka insisted. "We're not with them at all!"

Hess' scowl eased and was replaced with a curious glance as murmuring went about the gathered pirates. The three youngsters peered around uneasily, only for the Floatzel from earlier to approach and look off at smoke curling over the hills in the distance.

"So some 'mons did manage to get out after all," Rodion murmured. "Were there any others with you?"

From his place behind Pyry and Pekka, Elty warily poked his head out and peeked at the Floatzel. The Fire-Type's ears were pinned firmly back, as he stammered back a response to the taller stranger.

"N-No? These were the only two sea-walkers I ran into," the Growlithe said. "And they said that the others they ran into were scattered when the lavender-scarved Pokémon sent reinforcements into the town by the sea."

A deathly quiet came over the gathering, as somber, glum looks settled over the golden-scarved Pokémon. The Ledian peered down at the sand of the beach, shaking his head with a low murmur.

"Then if they can't fly or swim their way off the island, they won't last that long on their own," Kichiro said.

"So… it's just us, then?" Pekka asked.

"Unless anyone else comes from down the hill in the next few minutes, it looks like it," Rodion grunted back. "We've already pushed our luck enough making these repairs. So if there's any reason for you to not come with us, you need to make a decision here and now."

The gathering cleared out as the golden-scarved Pokémon made their way back for the ship and returned to the process of repairing the damaged caravel. Pyry and Pekka began to follow along after the group, only to peer back and see the Growlithe looking down at the ground, shifting uncomfortably.

"Hey… little guy. Are you coming?" Pekka asked.

"I… I just don't know," Elty murmured. "I mean, I know I'm having trouble back in the dungeon, but if I leave, then…"

Pyry paused, his mouth hanging open as he struggled with how to explain things to the Fire-Type. Here, the Growlithe had been so convinced that his mother would return for him, that she'd be able to watch over him again… much the way he'd felt about his own mother. If he told the Puppy Pokémon about what he and Pekka had heard… how would he react to it?

Perhaps… it was best to not to deal with the full story just now. They'd made a promise to Sirmia before they separated… After all that had happened, maybe this was the time to bring that up.

"Hey… Growlithe. Uh, about what happened to your mother…" the Gible began. "Well, we don't know what exactly what went down, but we do know there's something she asked us to do."

"What's that?"

"She said that if she ever had trouble getting back to you, that she wanted us to look out for you until you could get on your feet," he explained.

"Obviously, we can't exactly pass as ferals like you," Pekka added. "So if you're having trouble, we're not going to do any better."

"So… I guess what we're saying is... if you wanted us to look out for you, the only way we could do it is if you came to the sea with us," Pyry said.

Elty looked up and stared blankly at the Gible. Sensing that he'd unloaded a bit more on the Growlithe than he was ready to deal with, Pyry stammered, waving his claws to try as he tried to reframe his words.

"I-It doesn't have to be for that long if you don't want it!" the land shark insisted. "I mean, if you really wanted to, you could go back after you were tougher and… uh… sleep in leaves, mark trees, and… what exactly do feral Growlithe do again?"

A crash rang out as a beam of light zipped by and kicked up a plume of sand on the beach. The three yelped and dove towards the sand, when a loud bellow rang out in the air.

"There! Down on the beach!"

The three looked up and watched as a mob of Pokémon in lavender scarves rounded the top of the hill and began hurling attacks down towards the beach. The pirates around the caravel grimaced, their captain darting to his ship's hull and pushing it along as he turned back to the three youngsters.

"Time to go!" Hess shouted. "Hurry it up or we're leaving you on the beach!"

The Aggron's cry prompted the pirates to rush towards the ship, wildly clambering aboard rope ladders and gangplanks as the ship was pushed out onto the water. Pyry and Pekka ran along, charging into the shallow water and latching onto a lowered gangplank and pulling themselves up towards the deck. The two reached the deck's wood and laid there as the gangplank began to get pulled up by the golden-scarved pirates when the sound of a sharp yip reached their ears from below.

"W-Wait!"

There, in the water was the form of the Growlithe. Elty lurched over to a nearby rock, where he peered up at the passing gangplank and leapt up, only to go wide-eyed as he felt his teeth and paws miss its tip

"Ow!"

Elty felt a sharp pain shoot through his forepaw, looking up to see Pekka clamping down and trying to pull him up with Pyry tugging at the Trapinch's hindlegs. The ship lurched forward, prompting the three to pitch forward when they suddenly felt a Charmander latch onto them from behind, and drag them onto the deck.

The three lay there panting as shouts and attacks flew by, thinning out as the beach faded further and further in the distance. As calm began to return to the deck, the three picked themselves up, Pyry and Pekka breathing a passing thanks to the Charmander as Elty shook his forepaw and shot a dirty glare at his Trapinch companion.

"You bit me!"

"Well, yeah. But you're onboard," Pekka retorted. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

The Growlithe looked around the caravel's deck, seeing the golden-scarved pirates settle down as a relief came across the ship. The puppy looked off at Nagrobek in the distance, before turning back to the Trapinch and Gible before him, a small smile coming over his muzzle.

"Yeah… Yeah, it was."


On the waters south-west of Nagrobek, the battered form of a solitary ship in tattered blue sails limped along in the water. There, a silent Feraligatr paced the unusually crowded deck, passing wounded Pokémon who were laid out for treatment and gloomy deckhands setting about making meager repairs to the damaged hull and torn-up sails. The Water-Type turned away, hanging his head as a Kangaskhan with an empty pouch came up from behind him, uneasily plodding forward and pawing at the reptile's arm.

"Captain Laurens?" the Kangaskhan murmured. "What do we do now?"

The Feraligatr said nothing, giving a glum shake of his head before continuing on with his plodding course down the deck. He propped himself up against the railing when he noticed the waters churning and looked up to see a carrack with dark red sails barreling towards his ship.

"Huh? That's Dirk's ship…"

An uncomfortable chill came over Laurens and the surrounding pirates as the ship and its escorts pulled up, the carrack barely bothering to slow as it pulled alongside when a small party of pirates on Dirk's ship gathered and readied a gangplank for boarding.

WHAP!

Laurens flinched from the sound of the gangplank hitting the deck of his ship, as the form of a Bisharp stormed aboard. A few Pokémon in Dirk's path shrank out of the way as Laurens looked up, and saw the Dark-Type running up with a fierce kick.

Laurens gagged as he felt Dirk's clawed foot dig into his stomach and kick him off balance, sending him tumbling to the ground on his back. The Feraligatr coughed on a mouthful of spittle, his eyes shrinking to pins at the sight of a glinting blade lowered at his throat, with its livid owner glaring down at him.

"What the hell was that?!" Dirk seethed. "You said that you had 'mons in there that would distract the guards enough for us to have our way with that blasted sea rock!"

"Th-They did what they were supposed to, Captain Dirk!" Laurens insisted. "We were just caught off-guard by those square-necks and- AUGH!"

The Feraligatr howled in agony as he felt a searing pain run across his stomach, prompting him to clutch at it and feel a lukewarm, sticky fluid oozing down it. The Water-Type fought against his spinning head, trying to suppress a whimper as Dirk flicked a few drops of blood from his blade onto the alligator in disgust and stamped down on his tail.

"Just caught off-guard?! Half of the ships that were with me are rotting on the seafloor right now!" the Bisharp shouted. "Where is Captain Amaro?! I'm getting an answer for this even if I have to cut it out from him!"

Laurens grimaced, lowering his head and turning his gaze away from the Dark-Type. He struggled with his words, swallowing back a bitter lump to finally answer Dirk's question.

"He's… He's dead…"

The alligator felt Dirk's foot leave his tail and watched as the Bisharp backed away with a stunned stare. Laurens coughed and rolled over, uneasily pushing himself onto his knees as he tried to get back up to face the Bisharp.

"Th-They got him while we were onshore! We just need to fall back for now and regroup!" the Water-Type insisted. "I swear on my tail, we can avenge him-!"

"Save your breath, you miserable feral!"

Laurens abruptly froze at the sight of Dirk's right blade glinting and stopped just below his chin, the Feraligatr's breath dying in his mouth and his blood running cold at its sight. He felt his muscles quiver, their wounds and his mortal danger weighing on them as he looked up to see Dirk seethe in disgust.

"We were set up! Those Imps told us that Beatrice was on Nagrobek because they expected us to just sail in like this!" he hissed. "They probably didn't even have a scale to show that she was even there!"

The Feraligatr's eyes widened as he noticed Dirk's left blade jerk back, the Bisharp raising it up in the air for a downward slice as its owner narrowed his eyes at him.

"Something that your moles should've been able to tell!" Dirk growled. "And you never saw anything wrong with that!"

Laurens heard a woosh as the Bisharp's blade fell, prompting him to screw his eyes shut as his scarf tugged at his neck and the sound of ripping fabric reached his ears. The Feraligatr felt the point of Dirk's right blade leave his throat and fell onto his side limply, his eyes shooting wide as he gasped for air on the ground.

The alligator ran a claw for his neck, where in spite of his fears, his scales had remained unbroken, only to realize the scarf over them had been reduced to a frayed strip. Laurens pulled his tail in close to his body, looking up to see Dirk glaring down at him, the remainder of his scarf impaled on his blade.

"We've taken enough pointless risks for one day. Go do whatever you want with what's left of Amaro's crew," the Bisharp spat. "Mine's heading back for Rosequartz where we'll lay low and I'll need to break the news about Amaro to the others."

"Captain Dirk, I-I'm sure that I can-"

"Go and sail into a sandbar for all I care," the Dark-Type interjected. "I'm the Council member with most seniority now, and it'll be snowing in summer before I promote the 'mon who got Amaro killed to be my peer!"

Dirk stormed off for the gangplank, leaving Laurens to rise wobbily to his feet as he continued to pant, a few crewmembers gathering around uneasily. The Feraligatr looked over to the gangplank, where he saw Dirk throw the blue scrap of cloth into the sea, and lower his blade to point back at the Water-Type.

"One more thing," Dirk spat. "Get some new sails before you return back to Rosequartz."

"H-Huh? But the damage is nothing that we can't patch up-"

"They're Amaro's colors, for his Phlogiston Raiders," he interrupted, glaring back at the alligator. "And if I see you show your face in Rosequartz again with them, I'll gut you where you stand so that way Amaro can deal with you himself in the Spirit World!"

The Bisharp turned and made his way over the gangplank for his ship, leaving Laurens to backpedal and run off with his head held low and his tail pulled in towards his body as Dirk's carrack pushed off. The Feraligatr bolted for the stern, his earholes picking up the fading sounds of uneasy chatter behind him

"… Do you think that Captain Dirk would do the same to us if we kept our scarves?" a Beartic gulped.

"It won't matter to me, I'm finding another crew once we get back to port. After a disaster like this, the Phlogiston Raiders are through," a Crustle harrumphed. "But do let me know how that works out."

Laurens continued on until he reached the railing of the stern and leaned over it. He let his jaw slump onto the railing, staring blankly out at the sea. The sound of nearing footsteps caught his ears, prompting him to look back and see the Kangaskhan from earlier making her way over, an uneasy grimace settled over her face.

"Captain Laurens…" the Kangaskhan murmured. "Are you alright?"

A long silence followed as the Feraligatr and Kangaskhan stared at each other. Laurens lowered his head, shaking it before turning back towards the sea.

"I'm... fine," he muttered. "I just need some time alone to think."

The Kangaskhan shifted back uneasily, before turning and shuffling off. There, in his newfound solitude, Laurens trained misty eyes back at the fading form of Nagrobek Island, carrying on with his craft as lone tears dribbled into the sea as the sound of sobs floated over the churning waves.


Back in Elilan's office, the Zoroark Administrator sat at the front of his desk, idly picking at his claws as a tense silence filled the room. The Dark-Type waited a moment, the sound of the door opening and uncooperative bodies being drug along catching his ears and prompting him to turn and see a Ninetales, Exploud, and Chandelure bound before him with Betulo and a party of guards lead by an umber Marowak following along. The guards marched the prisoners in before unceremoniously throwing them to the ground, leaving Betulo to carry on over to the desk and glare down at the trio. Elilan pulled his claws back to his side, a smile spreading over his face as he sneered at his new captives.

"When I was told I'd be able to interrogate some of the pests who ruined my afternoon, I was expecting more than you three," the Zoroark scoffed. "I suppose I should give credit where it's due though. Your stunt's been more of a headache than any past episode pirates have managed to accomplish, so congratulations."

"Spare your breath, Zoroark," the Chandelure snarled. "You lucked out and you know it."

The pirate's hiss was met with silence, followed by the sound of a derisive laugh. The three Pokémon blinked, watching as the Zoroark Administrator shook his head, before shooting back a cruel grin.

"'Luck out'? You're more delusional than I thought you'd be! This is Nagrobek! The island's defenses have been reorganized entirely around keeping this prison operational!" Elilan sneered. "Did you seriously think that we hadn't come up with ways to counter little insurrections like these?"

"We've flushed out most of your friends from the other cell blocks," Betulo added. "The rest are bound to get hunted down in time from the wilderness."

The moles' eyes suddenly widened and their expressions developed a blank, stupefied look about them. Elilan paced up, smirking down at his captives as their expressions sank and grimaces spread over their faces.

"I'm obviously going to be busy figuring out how many examples need to be made from your lot today, though I can guarantee that you three will be among them," he said. "Do you have any words for me to pass along?"

The Zoroark took a moment to relish the brigands' helplessness, only to watch the three's eyes harden into fierce glares. Somehow, in spite of the direness of their situation, the three seemed as full of defiance as when they'd first entered the room.

"Go walk a plank," the Ninetales spat.

The Ice-Type's impudence was met by a sudden flash of red claws, sending her slumping limply to the ground with a yelp. The Exploud and Chandelure recoiled at the shout as Elilan drew his claws back, shooting a dirty glare at the fallen Ninetales before relaxing his features as a small smirk crept over the ends of his muzzle.

"Really now, was that all you could think of?" he sneered, before turning to the guards in the room.

"Get these wastes of air out of my sight, and tell the other guards to have them processed and sent out to Torn Outpost by sundown."

"Understood, Administrator," the Marowak answered, as he turned to the three prisoners. "As for you! Since you all like snooping around so much, time for you to see what The Pit is really like!"

The guards at once latched onto the three Pokémon, the Exploud and Chandelure struggling only to be stilled by a sudden weak, crackling arc of electricity from a Magneton among them. Elilan watched as the three were dragged away, drifting back for his seat as an Alakazam in dark blue cloth and mail armor walked past the departing group and cleared his throat.

"Administrator, the Officer who came to Dulefield Town's relief during the raid is here to see you."

A long silence followed from the other end of the room, Elilan folding his ears back as his gaze settled into a firm, unamused stare before Betulo finally shook his head with a sigh.

"Send him in."

The Alakazam nodded back and went up to open the doors to the chamber, where the form of a Samurott covered in lacerations and bruises walked in with a contented smile. Elilan scanned his scruffy guest, noticing a worse-for-wear Second-Rank scarf adorning the Water-Type's neck. The Zoroark frowned a moment and narrowed his eyes at the sight of the otter. Just what could this Second-Rank have done that his own guards wouldn't have been able to manage eventually?

"And just who might you be?" Elilan demanded.

"Officer Lyn, Administrator," the Samurott answered. "I received word of a pirate raid being plotted against this island by Orleigh's so-called Council."

The Water-Type fished through a tattered satchel, where he unfurled a blue scarf with white flames, its lower half stained a deep red color. Lyn twitched his whiskers and gave a gruff, proud grunt as he showed off his bloodied scrap.

"I doubt you'll have any more problems with that in the future," he said. "Especially with that Captain Amaro."

Betulo stared blankly for a moment at the sullied scarf. Did this lackey mean to insinuate that he slew Captain Amaro? Betulo fumbled with his words a moment, dumbfounded at the Second-Rank's surprise accomplishment, only for Elilan to interrupt with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders.

"Hrmph, I'm sure it's something that we could've handled on our own," the Zoroark harrumphed. "Thank you for your concern, Officer."

Lyn blinked and tilted his head, the otter grumbling a little under his breath at his surprisingly unfriendly reception. Betulo joined his surperior by crossing his branch-like arms, narrowing his solitary ruddy eye with a visibly skeptical gaze at Lyn.

"How did you come across this intelligence, Officer Lyn?" the Trevenant Commander demanded. "It's a bit more than I would've expected from a member of your rank."

"I met a team of scouts while probing the waters near Giotto," the Samurott answered. "They came across some pirates who were a part of this conspiracy during their reconnaissance."

Elilan paused and raised a brow at Lyn's words. The Zoroark shifted quietly, shooting a wary, intent gaze at the Samurott in front of him.

"… Some scouts?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the door at the other end of the office creaked open and footsteps rang out. Elilan watched as Betulo shifted back surprisedly, seeing the forms of a Kommo-o, a Weavile, a Sylveon, and a Noivern approaching. The Trevenant's eye lit up as he gave a small wave to the Weavile in the group and was answered by a nod back. His superior's demeanor took a sour turn, a deepening frown spreading over the Administrator's face as Lyn turned and gestured with a paw at the newcomers.

"Yes, Sorge and his team here. It was their intelligence that enabled me to come to your island's aid," the Second-Rank insisted. "They held up far better than I expected battling in town, so perhaps it's a sign that they're being underutilized in their current positions."

Elilan grit his teeth and furrowed his brow into an unamused scowl, shifting his attention towards the Kommo-o and his companions. Lyn blinked a moment at the Administrator's tangible displeasure, watching as the Zoroark growled and shook his head.

"… Perhaps," Elilan muttered. "Would you kindly give me a few moments alone with these scouts, Officer Lyn?"

Lyn gave a surprised look at the sudden request for his departure. Surely Administrators were supposed to spend more time going over reports of their despised enemies being laid low, were they not?

"Hrm? What's the matter?"

"I… want to get a chance to speak with them and learn how they came across their intelligence," Elilan insisted, drawing a puzzled frown back from the Samurott.

"… But I don't understand why I can't be present for tha-"

"Because these are sensitive matters, Officer!" the Zoroark snapped. "So listen to your superiors already!"

Lyn scowled and grumbled under his breath over his superior's blatant hostility. Keenly noting that the Samurott's body was tense and wound up, Betulo cleared his throat and attempted to dispel the unseemly cloud of hostility in the room.

"You have a crew back in town, do you not? Perhaps you should make sure they're feeling alright for now since you look a bit haggard yourself," the Trevenant offered. "I'm sure the Administrator can catch up with you later on when he needs to make a damage assessment."

"… Very well, some rest could do us good," Lyn replied. "And it would be nice to focus on something else while waiting for the rest of the Board to respond to my message."

The Samurott's words narrowed Elilan's eyes into glaring slits, prompting him to ball his claws up into clenched fists as he fought to keep his voice from betraying seething frustration lurking underneath.

"You what?"

"I notified the other members of the Board of the events here today," Lyn insisted. "With the mess in town and at the local garrison, it seemed like something to make them privy to sooner rather than later."

The Samurott shook his head, before stretching against his wounds and turning to the waiting Kommo-o behind him.

"But I will take my leave here, Sorge," the otter said. "Let me know if you need any further assistance from my crew."

"Gladly."

Lyn turned and began to make his way for the exit, leaving Elilan to train an increasingly harsh glare at the four 'scouts'. The Zoroark waited until the door closed, before springing up and storming over to the waiting Kommo-o and his team.

"Why are you all here?!" Elilan hissed. "You said your last lead steered you further away from Anyilla's waters!"

"It did, but as we attempted to track Subject Red, we found signs that he'd been trying to return to Anyilla," Sorge explained.

"While we were out there, we discovered that pirates from Orleigh's council were planning on raiding Nagrobek," the Weavile next to him added. "There wasn't enough time for us to send a message out, so we hailed a Company ship to get you reinforcements. Nothing wrong with that."

The duo's explanation was met with Elilan slamming a claw against his desk and leveling a piercing glare back at the party. At once the four Pokémon quieted down as a seething growl came out from under the Zoroark's breath.

"I assigned you first and foremost to focus on recovering Subject Red, not to abandon your mission because you felt a need to look out for my welfare!" he snapped. "In the future, you will leave me to deal with what happens on my island. Understood?"

The members of Team Sentinel quietly traded uneasy looks with each other, before Sorge turned back to his superior and responded in a reluctant voice.

"… Yes, Administrator."

"Good. I want you to reprovision and return to the mission I gave you by tomorrow," Elilan ordered. "The longer we wait, the harder it will be for you to find Subject Red's trail again."

"Yes, Administrator!"

One by one, the four Pokémon darted out of the room, leaving the armored Alakazam outside to shut the door after them. In his newfound solitude, the Zoroark Administrator flopped back into his seat and buried his face in a palm, growling under his breath as his Trevenant Commander scuttled up.

"Is something the matter, Elilan?" Betulo asked.

"This was a crisis that we could have handled on our own!" Elilan fumed. "And one that would've been able to give you the recognition you finally needed for me to make my case to the Board!"

Betulo paused in thought for a moment, before closing his eye with a low grunt. Elilan tilted his head puzzledly, opening his mouth to speak, only for his Commander to explain his seeming lack of concern.

"The actions of the lower ranks tend to get lost in the haze whenever large events like these happen," the Trevenant reassured. "That Samurott's just a Second-Rank, so what are the odds we'll ever hear from him again?"


The skies southwest of Nagrobek flushed a burnt orange as the sun began to slip over the horizon, bathing the deck of a battered caravel with golden sails with its waning light. There, on the port side of the deck, the form of a young Growlithe in front of a Gible and a Trapinch stared out excitedly at the sea, his tail wagging as he gestured out to a bobbing pink buoy in the water.

"What's that over there?"

"That's a beacon, one of the Crystal Beacons to be more specific," Pyry answered. "It helps let passing ships know where they're going and if there's anything they need to avoid in the water."

"Oh? And what about that stone on the rope down there?" Elty asked.

"That's the ship's anchor: it keeps the ship from moving around when its captain wants it to stop," the Gible explained.

"And those pieces of cloth above us?"

The Growlithe's yip drew an annoyed groan from Pekka, who reared up and waved his stubby forelegs irritatedly.

"Bah, give it a rest already! We've been at sea for less than half an hour!" the Trapinch hissed. "There'll be plenty of other times we can explain this stuff to you!"

"Aherm."

The three looked up and saw the forms of the Aggron captain and his first mate approaching with a trio of golden cloths dangling from Rodion's paw. Elty watched as the pair walked up, giving a curious tilt of his head at the cloths as he noticed that they were emblazoned with silver teardrop-like designs.

"Huh? What are those?"

"They're the scarves that Pokémon from our crew wear," the Floatzel explained. "If I remember right, you two are from the Devastating Drakes, right?"

"Er… yes? But why do we need new scarves?" Pekka asked.

"Well, we're a few deckclaws short from that last raid, and we need to start filling places where we can," Rodion answered.

"Right," Hess added. "So we're a bit open to recruits right now for the Iron Fleet."

The Aggron's explanation drew a frown from a Ledian sitting on the rigging of the mast overhead. The Bug-Type shook his head before a mischievous smirk began to spread over his face.

"You know," Kichiro sneered. "You can just be honest and say we'll press-gang them if they refu-"

The Ledian was cut off by a loud thwack from Hess batting his tail forcefully against the mast. Kichiro lost his balance, tumbling through the air with a yelp before hastily evening himself out just above the deck. The Bug-Type chittered angrily and shot a dirty glare at his captain who rolled his eyes in response, before the beetle flitted off and left Elty tilting his head puzzledly at the whole episode.

"What are 'recruits'?" the Growlithe asked. "And what's the 'Iron Fleet'?"

Hess' eyes lit up and his maw cracked open into a toothy grin at Elty's question. Pyry and Pekka traded curious looks with one another, as the metal lizard wagged his tail.

"The only crew in all of the Cradle with the means to fly silver and gold from its masts!" Hess cheered. "Not even Beatrice the Swift could do that back in her day!"

The Aggron beamed and puffed his stony chest out proudly, drawing an excited wag of the Elty's tail. Further behind, a Sableye looked up from untangling some knotted ropes with a puzzled tilt of his head.

"Isn't that just because the other crews say it makes them stand out too much- Gah!"

The Sableye was swiftly silenced by a swat from Rodion's paw and an icy glare, prompting the Ghost-Type to slink off with a grumble. Hess blinked, a sheepish grimace coming over his face as he turned back to his fledgling audience.

"So yeah, if you need a new crew to call home, you can't really do worse than us!" the Steel-Type insisted.

Pekka tilted his head and cracked his maw open slightly, lowering his head and giving it an unimpressed shake.

"I… was expecting a bit more from a recruiting speech ," the Trapinch murmured.

"Aherm. I would like to add that Hess as a captain does have some of the best fortune of any crew in Orleigh," Rodion offered.

"That's right! Ever since I got my lucky charm, I've always been able to get back to port safely!" Hess said. "So as long as you're with us, you'll never have to worry about not having a place to turn to!"

Pyry blinked and traded a dubious look with his partner over the Aggron's mention of a 'lucky charm'. Most crews usually tried to emphasize their accomplishments when trying to wow new recruits, not that they were always able to get away. And something about this crew's name felt vaguely familiar...

"The 'Iron Fleet'? Aren't they the guys who keep making lame excuses for whenever their raids go bad?" Pyry whispered. "Pretty sure I heard them say once that they couldn't get loot because of a single Skarmory."

"I thought they were the crew with the captain that bought and then abandoned a bunch of cannons because he kept getting trapped in their Apricorns," his Trapinch teammate whispered back.

"So… what do we need to do as 'recruits'?"

Pyry and Pekka looked ahead and watched as Elty stepped forward, sitting and staring up intently at the pirate captain and his first mate. Rodion took the chance to take a step forward himself, as he cleared his throat and began to speak up.

"Help keep this ship afloat and pitch in during our raids," the Floatzel answered. "In return, we'll split our shares of the loot, make sure there's always something to eat and drink, and that whenever we have to cut and run, we'll do our best to make sure we can get you out."

"Heh, I'm great at running!" Elty yipped. "I'll do it!"

"That's great! Though… what do you want us to call you for a name?" Hess asked. "I do need something to call you in case another Growlithe joins the crew."

Elty shifted shyly, seemingly wavering in his response a moment before replying back.

"Uh… well… my mama would always call me 'Eltenios'," the Growlithe answered. "I guess you can call me that."

The Puppy Pokémon's response drew a brow raise from the Aggron pirate. Pokémon in the Cradle's various islands and waters always seemed to have a penchant for coming up with the darndest names, but this name was almost as much of a mouthful as Kichiro's!

"Well that's certainly quite the long name," Hess murmured.

"'Eltenios' is fine," Rodion insisted. "But just out of curiosity... does it mean anything?"

"My mama always said it's a special word that Growlithe and Arcanine used from a long, long time ago," Elty explained. "And that it meant that I'd never, ever give up."

Hess smiled and knelt down to extend a claw and pet the head of the young Growlithe. Of all the Pokémon to pick up as a new recruit, he certainly could've done worse than choosing someone with fire in his belly like this pup!

"Well I think it suits you," he said. "So what about you two? What's your names? And you going to join with your friend?"

Pyry and Pekka traded hesitant looks with one another, before looking over at the Growlithe and how content he seemed to be here amongst Hess' company. Even if the Iron Fleet was far from their first pick, they could do worse for a crew to be on while watching out for Eltenios… right?

"I'm Pekka. And… I mean, he is going to need someone to show him the ropes…" the Trapinch murmured.

"Pyry, and we do have some experience…" the Gible added. The pudgy land shark peered down at the satchel slung over his arm, prompting him to sidle up to Elty and slip it onto the dog's shoulder, leaving the Growlithe to gawk back puzzledly.

"Huh?"

"It's for you," Pyry explained. "If you're going to be working with us, we've gotta do something to make sure you can pull your weight."

Yeah, with your feet, I'm sure that you can get stuff around in that bag faster than we ever could," Pekka said.

"Heh! Sounds like you're all settling in good enough!" Hess chortled. Sensing the time was appropriate, Rodion stepped forward and passed the golden cloths over to the three Pokémon, revealing them to be pre-tied scarves ready to be slipped on and worn.

"Welcome aboard, then," the Floatzel said with a smile. "Go ahead and put these on. I'll come by to give you your first assignments later."

Hess and Rodion turned and made their way down the deck, leaving their newly-inducted members to slip their scarves over their necks. Pyry and Pekka toyed with their new garments, attempting to adjust the knots to allow a better fit when the sound of excited yips prompted them to look over and see Elty bounding in circles on the deck. Pekka tilted his head skeptically a moment, before turning to his Gible partner.

"… Veikka, was this really a good idea?" the Trapinch murmured. "I mean, we basically drug a 'mon that's been living under a rock his whole life along with us out to sea. And how are we supposed to break the news about his mother?"

Pyry looked at the Growlithe, watching as the Fire-Type darted around with a fiery spark in his eyes. After a long pause, the Gible shook his head as a small smile crept up over his face.

"… We already came this far together, didn't we? I think we can work things out," he replied. "Give it a few weeks. We'll figure a way to tell him… For now, let's just let him have his moment and give him a chance to learn the ropes a bit."


Author's Notes:

- Idź stąd! - Polish: "Go away!"
- selyane (селяне) - Russian: "peasants", "hicks" (BGN/PCGN Romanization)