Sliding deeper into the forest, I kept my form low to the ground, sticking to the shadows between the trees. I needed to be far enough away from the ruins that no one would be able to find me.

That was the plan, at least.

"Alright, gotta find somewhere decent," I muttered to myself, oozing over a twisted tree root.

The morning air was crisp, still cool from the night before, carrying the scent of damp earth and leaves. Sunlight dappled the forest floor through breaks in the canopy, patches of warmth breaking through the otherwise shaded stretch of trees. I had to stretch myself thin, slipping over roots and squeezing between rocks just to keep moving forward. It felt weird, like I was a blob of Play-Doh being smushed through a pasta maker.

A branch snapped somewhere in the distance, and I immediately froze, flattening myself against the dirt. My body tensed, barely even breathing as I looked to where the noise came from.

Something rustled through the underbrush ahead. Not heavy, but quick. Sharp, darting movements, the kind that came from something small but alert. My mind jumped straight to 'oh fuck!'—but then I saw it.

A small shape popped out from the grass, twitching ears, short purple fur, a long, curled tail.

I recognized it instantly.

Rattata.

A real, living, Rattata.

I forgot how to think for a moment, stuck watching as it moved forward through the brush.

It sniffed at the air, tiny nose twitching, whiskers bouncing with each movement. Its sleek fur caught in the sunlight, just enough to show off a faint sheen to its violet coat. Its beady eyes flicked around, scanning the surroundings.

And I just… watched.

I had spent years staring at pixelated sprites on a screen, watching animations in battle menus, listening to attack cries in a loop. But this? This was different.

It was real.

I barely noticed the way my form wobbled slightly, like an unsteady pulse rippling through me. It was smaller than I imagined, maybe a bit smaller than a loaf of bread.

For a moment, I wanted to get closer. Just to see if it was as soft as I always thought, or if its movements were as jittery up close as they seemed from afar.

And then, just as fast as it had appeared—it bolted.

My breath caught as I watched its little paws kick up bits of dirt, slipping effortlessly into the tangled roots of a fallen tree. Gone.

I let out a sharp exhale, my body finally relaxing, though I barely realized I had tensed up in the first place.

"…Holy crap," I muttered, barely above a whisper.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else. The fear. The fact that I was running for my life. That I had no way to defend myself in such a terrifyingly awesome world.

Because I had just seen my first wild Pokémon.

And it was incredible.

I sat there for a few more seconds, just processing it. Then, reality started creeping back in.

A small feeling of giddiness rose in my chest, until a laugh broke through.

Yes, this world might be terrifying. Yes, this might be the hardest thing I've faced in my life, and yes, I no longer have my body.

But… "Pokémon. Are. Real…" I could only whisper to myself, the sheer absurdity of the situation finally hitting me.

I might be in a horrible situation, but the fact remains. The thing I loved most, is now real.

And I will be damned if I won't become an actual Pokémon trainer. I might be limited by my form, but I will most certainly not yield to this bullshit called fate.

A fresh wave of determination surged through me, replacing some of the tension that had been sitting in my chest since I woke up in this body.

I had no clue how long I sat there, just letting that thought settle. A minute? Maybe two? Either way, I couldn't afford to sit around forever. This was still the wild, and I have no clue if the Pokémon in this world are inherently wild and dangerous, or friendly. But I wasn't banking on it being the latter.

With one last glance at the tree where the Rattata had disappeared, I shook myself off—literally. My body rippled, the excitement making me feel more restless than before. "Alright," I muttered, shifting my focus back to the task at hand. "I need a spot where I can learn without getting attacked, found, or distracted."

I stretched myself forward, keeping low as I moved deeper into the trees. I didn't want to pick the first place I saw. I needed to be deep enough into the forest that I wouldn't be found.

The further I went, the thicker the forest became. The undergrowth grew wilder, patches of brambles and thick roots weaving through the ground. Good. If it was hard for me to move through, that meant it'd be hard for anything else.

After what felt like another hour of slow travel, I spotted a break in the trees just ahead. squeezing through, I slid between a few large boulders and found myself in a small, secluded clearing.

It wasn't huge. A fallen tree stretched across one side, half-rotted but seemingly sturdy, its moss-covered roots thick and tangled. A few large rocks were scattered around creating a small den-like shape, giving me some cover. The ground was soft, layered with dry leaves, and, most importantly this place was hidden.

I had to squeeze through to get in here.

Pausing, and glancing back the way I came. No obvious trails leading straight here. No sounds of anything larger than the occasional rustling in the brush.

Yeah. This would work.

A small laugh slipped out, breathy and light. It wasn't much, but I had a safe place to live, probably enough food and water for a month or two…

My situation was already improving.

Sliding into the small den between the rocks, I checked for any signs of something already living here. No nests, no droppings, no weird smells. So, as far as I was concerned, its free real estate.

"This place is actually pretty cozy," I muttered, pressing against the dirt floor. "Could do with some decorating. Maybe a bit less open concept. But it's not bad."

Grinning to myself, I let my body settle for a moment, sinking into the slight warmth still left in the ground. New homeowner at sixteen. Not exactly how I imagined it, but hey. Could be much worse.

Then, right on cue, my stomach growled.

I sighed, and grabbed an energy bar popped into my hand from my 'pocket'. Heh. I love that name.

After unwrapping it, leaned back, letting my mind finally calm down enough to think about what was next.

I needed to figure out how to not be completely helpless.

Transforming was the only advantage I had, and I still didn't know how to do it.

I swallowed, tearing off another bite of granola. "Alright," I muttered to myself. "How the hell do I even start with this?"

Picturing something didn't work. Forcing it didn't work. Maybe I was going about it wrong.

I crinkled the wrapper, as I started to think. Pokémon could use moves naturally, so how did a Ditto normally transform?

Generally it seemed like ditto needed to see what it wanted to transform into. Cause in the games, or the early ones anyone, it had to be sent into battle to use transform. Later on it could get the ability imposter, and be sent out as a different Pokémon immediately.

So do ditto just need a reference? Is it akin to molding myself like playdough? I mean, that would make sense, but there's no way that's the fast method.

Whenever they've been shown, ditto transform near instantly, but that could just be the instincts acting, and I don't have those…

I'll try the playdough method and see if that works, if not I might have to go looking for other ditto and see if I can't get one to show me how to do it. At least I'm on the right island to find them.

My eyes flicked toward the small clearing outside my den. If I was lucky, maybe I could find a Pokémon to watch soon, or maybe I'll see that Rattata again.

I sighed, crumpling up the wrapper and storing it back inside my weird pocket space. "Guess I'll figure it out the old-fashioned way."

I wanted to punch something.

Which was a bit of a problem, considering I didn't have fists. Or fingers. Or bones.

Instead, I just flopped onto the dirt with a wet splat, my gooey body spreading out like some kind of rejected pancake. "This is such bullshit."

Three days.

I'd spent three entire days trying to track down a single Pokémon to use as a reference for Transform. I heard them all the time, Pidgey squawking in the canopy, Rattata rustling through the brush, the occasional distant cry of something bigger, but I never got close enough to actually see anything.

It was like they knew I was watching and went out of their way to avoid me.

The only real proof I wasn't just going crazy were the feathers and tiny paw prints I found in the dirt every morning.

But three days of near silence? Three days of absolutely nothing but glimpses of movement in the distance?

I was starting to lose it.

So when I finally heard the telltale flutter of wings nearby, I instantly flattened myself against the dirt and stopped moving entirely.

Something landed on a low-hanging branch a few feet away, sending a small shower of loose twigs to the ground.

I barely dared to breathe.

It turned slightly, shifting its wings before tucking them neatly against its sides, its talons clicking against the bark.

A Spearow.

I nearly freaked out in excitement.

My second wild Pokémon sighting. And it was so much closer than the Rattata had been.

I wanted to get a better look, to memorize every little detail—the rough brown feathers around its head, the cream-colored chest, the pink toned wings, the way its sharp red eyes flicked around the clearing.

But I didn't move.

Because while I was thrilled to finally see another Pokémon… I also had no idea if I was something it wanted to eat.

Did bird Pokémon eat Ditto?

Because I was very much a small, squishy, gelatinous blob.

And Spearow? Yeah, they were notorious assholes.

I swallowed down my immediate giddy excitement, suddenly very aware of how I was very bright blue and gooey.

I did not want to find out the hard way if my body had the consistency of gummy candy.

My mind immediately flashed back to Ash's journey. Specifically, the part where a single Spearow got pissed and called for backup.

And then a whole damn flock tried to kill him.

A small chill crept up my non-existent spine.

I risked a slow glance around the treetops.

…No other Spearow in sight.

Okay. Okay. That was good.

The one in front of me hadn't noticed me yet, either. It just sat there, preening its feathers, occasionally flicking its tail feathers in a lazy, absentminded sort of way.

If I stayed perfectly still, maybe it would just… fly off.

I could watch it. Study it. Get every detail locked into my memory without actually risking anything. Yeah that was a good idea.

For a few, agonizingly slow seconds, everything seemed to be going perfectly.

Then, of course, I messed it up. I shifted just a little, barely even a movement, just a slight adjustment so I could see better.

And that's when the Spearow's head snapped toward me, and I froze.

For a long moment, neither of us moved.

I held its gaze, completely unsure if I was about to get into my first real wild Pokémon battle… or if I was about to be an early breakfast.

The Spearow blinked.

Then, its head tilted just slightly, its sharp eyes sweeping over me, taking in my squishy, shapeless mess of a body.

And then its beak curled into something way too close to a smirk, and let out a single, clipped, sharp, questioning. "Spear?"

Then another. Longer. Louder. "Spear-ow! Ow-ow~!"

I didn't know exactly what that meant, but I knew mockery when I heard it.

The Spearow ruffled its feathers, looking way too pleased with itself, then stretched out its wings wide, before letting them flop limply at its sides.

I squinted, a tad confused as I tried to make sense of what it was doing. Was it… was it imitating me?

I didn't have time to fully process that before it did something even worse.

The little bastard puffed out its chest, sucked in a breath, and then just… sagged, its whole body slumping downward like a deflated balloon.

My jaw dropped and my eye twitched, it was mocking my lack of bones.

The Spearow let out another sharp cry, hopping once along the branch before shaking its head dramatically, making a long, drawn-out noise that had the exact same energy as someone going 'oOoOoH~' in a bad impression of a ghost.

It was absolutely making fun of me…

The excitement I had felt seconds ago drained out of me so fast it nearly left a hole in my chest. I had spent three days failing to even see a Pokémon up close. And when I finally managed it… it was one that found my entire existence hilarious.

Fantastic…

I barely stopped myself from groaning out loud.

The Spearow, still clearly entertained, gave another light, choppy cry—a quick "Sp'row-row-ow!" that had the exact same energy as someone choking down giggles.

Oh, great.

Not only did I get a close look at another wild Pokémon…

I got a heckler.

The Spearow was still perched above me, its head tilted in amusement, but I forced myself to ignore it. No. This was a good thing. I finally had a Pokémon in front of me, close enough to study. This was my chance.

I could do this.

Straightening, I focused on the Spearow's body, a sharp beak, compact body, feathered wings, talons gripping the branch.

Just picture It Sorren. Wings. Beak. Hollow bones. Small but strong.

I felt something shift. For a fraction of a second, I thought I had it, but then my body convulsed like a rubber band snapping in the wrong direction. My mass rippled, limbs forming for half a second before melting back into gel. I collapsed with a wet plap.

The Spearow cackled, "SPEAR-O-O-OWW~!" almost falling off the branch, and having to spread its wings—while still laughing—in order to catch itself.

I clenched my nonexistent teeth and forced myself back upright. No. Not giving up. Maybe I was thinking too hard. I stretched out a tendril and started to shape it. If I couldn't get the whole form, maybe I could start small. wing first maybe?

Compressing the tendril on my side, I took a glance at the still Spearow with its wing still extended as it tried to get a better grip on the branch, taking it the side of the pink-ish red feathers on its wings. And I began sculpting the individual feathers onto the tendril, thinning out the limb as it was more akin to a feathered club.

Just as I thought I managed it, the whole thing wilted like a soggy noodle, flopping limply against my side…

The Spearow, that had just managed to get comfy again, wheezed and cackled.

"Oh, shut up," I snapped, grabbing and tossing a stick at it. It didn't even flinch, a lack of wrist movement had my aim being… not great.

The damn bird laughed as the stick went four feet to the side…

Fine. New approach.

If thinking wasn't working, maybe I could mold myself into the full shape? I stretched my mass upward, trying to physically shape myself into a Spearow, legs first, then a compact body, wings pulling outward. For a single, shining moment, a bright blue Spearow made of goo appeared.

Then I collapsed like a dying soufflé.

The Spearow let out another choppy, stuttering caw, which I could only assume was it laughing so hard it couldn't breathe.

I groaned. Three days of searching for a Pokémon to copy, and now that I had one, I was completely useless. I'd visualized it, stretched, compressed, reshaped—nothing worked.

Flopping onto my back, I stared up at the sky through the gaps in the canopy. This was pointless.

My memory flicked to my phone. Dragging it onto the ground beside me, I brought up the Dex entry for Ditto I had opened yesterday.

"Alright, you useless little blob," I muttered, more to myself than the entry. "What are you missing?"

"Ditto will sometimes transform into a rock while they sleep to avoid predators."

I stared at the words. Then at a nearby rock. Then back at the words.

Up in the tree, the Spearow let out a small, fluttering noise as it leaned down to get a better look at what I was doing.

"…Alright. Fine." I huffed, rolling back into a sitting position. "If I can't turn into a Spearow, or a person, or literally anything remotely useful, then screw it—I'll be a goddamn rock! And I'll be the best goddamn rock there ever was!"

The Spearow gave off another huff as a grin spread on its damn face, shifting its body again, as it shook its head at my words.

Bastard.

I ignored it.

Dragging myself upright back into proper form and focused. This wasn't a complex shape its just a rock. No limbs. No wings. No moving parts. Just ooga-booga rock.

I started to study the rock in front of me. a dark speckled greyish stone, nearly the same size as myself.

Running a tendril over it, I got a feel for the rough jagged edges, it was cool to the touch, and hard.

I shut my eyes and tried to picture it. Solid, grey, and rough to the touch.

I let my body relax, sinking into the feeling of not moving. The forest sounds dulled, as I got my mind entirely focused on this single thing. My gooey form started to harden bit by bit.

My mind drifted, just a little.

No wobbling. No rippling. Just… stillness.

I was no longer a gooey, mostly shapeless mess. No squishy blob, or pile of slime. My skin had turned hard, I couldn't extend a tendril or shift my body.

I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until I woke up as the rock.

My mind snapped into alertness, and I felt the change immediately. My form wobbled, shifting back into my usual state as I woke up properly.

I did it.

It wasn't powerful. It wasn't impressive. Hell it wasn't even remotely useful. But I did it.

A slow grin spread across my face. "Alright," I muttered, looking up at the damn judgmental Spearow still sitting on that low branch. "Not bad for a pile of goop huh you damn bird!"

I pointed a tendril up at the little bastard, feeling a little smug. "Yeah, that's right. You saw that."

The Spearow flapped once, then settled back down with a huff and shaking its head, no longer paying attention to what I was doing, now that it realized its show was over.

Fine. Whatever. I knew it was a big deal.

I let my body relax, sinking into the feeling of absolute stillness. The forest sounds dulled, fading as I focused entirely on this one thought. My gooey form started hardening, bit by bit.

No wobbling. No rippling. Just… Rock.

The shift felt strange, like my body was locking into place, becoming sturdy instead of soft and malleable. I held onto the sensation, concentrating on keeping myself completely motionless.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. After a while, it was too hard to tell.

I didn't move. Didn't even think about moving. The longer I held it, the more everything else faded—the sounds of the forest, the wind against my surface, even the usual subconscious shifting of my goo.

I wasn't a Ditto.

I was a rock.

…

A sudden wobble rolled throughout my body, causing me to stir out of my trance.

The feeling of solidity snapped like a rubber band, my hardened shell breaking apart, and before I could react, my form collapsed back into goo.

The shift hit like a truck. A wave of dizziness rolled through me, leaving me heavier than before. Not physically though I was feeling pretty tired, more like something inside me had burned through a ridiculous amount of energy.

I blinked sluggishly. Had holding my shape really taken that much out of me? Did I use up too much energy holding a rock form?

Lifting my head, I glanced at the low-hanging branch where the Spearow had been sitting.

It was empty. I stared for a second. Had it left? When?

I stretched a tendril with my eye on it, glancing around the clearing. No sign of it. I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there.

Something about that sent a weird, uncomfortable feeling curling in my gut.

I turned my gaze upward. The sky wasn't as bright as before. The patches of light peeking through the trees had taken on a warmer, golden glow.

…Sunset.

I'd been sitting here for hours.

The realization hit like a slap. I'd completely lost track of time. And considering I was alone in the middle of the woods, with no way to fight back… yeah, that was a bit of a problem.

I needed to get back to my den, before it got dark.

Despite all that, a slow grin spread across my face. I did it. It wasn't powerful. It wasn't impressive. It wasn't the slightest bit useful.

But I did it.

I exhaled, still feeling the lingering weariness in my body. I hadn't expected holding a simple shape to be so draining. But that was good to know.

Though the thought that holding a rock form put me into a trance like that was a bit worrying, how am I supposed to use a form that completely shuts me down for hours?

"Haah… I've got a long way to go…" I muttered, stretching slightly as I oozed forward, making my way back to my den. Despite that, I couldn't stop grinning.

Then my stomach gurgled.

I groaned. Great. So holding a form that long also makes me starving.

Mentally sighing as I squeezed into my little shelter, I reached into my storage, pulling out another can of peaches and the multi-tool I'd found earlier. I popped the lid open, and the familiar sweet, syrupy scent hit me.

My mouth watered.

But all I could think about was a goddamn Philly cheesesteak.

A fresh, toasted hoagie roll, piled high with juicy, thin-sliced roast beef, smothered in melted cheese, maybe some sautéed onions—

I clenched my jaw.

God, I'd do anything for some roast beef right now…

Sighing, I stabbed a chunk of peach with the can's plastic fork, chewing miserably. The worst part? They weren't even bad.

I was just sick of it. Peaches. Energy bars. Canned crap. The same flavors over and over again. This was my life now.

My thoughts drifted as I ate, mind wandering toward a future where I could actually eat real food again. A future where I could order something hot, fresh, and greasy instead of opening another goddamn can. Walking around in my body instead of this difficult to traverse with goo.

But that was a long ways off.

I swallowed the last bite and sighed, pushing the empty can aside. Sleep first. More training tomorrow.

Curling up in the corner of my den, I let my form relax, my body spreading slightly against the soft dirt. The ache in my core from burning through energy was still there, but I ignored it, letting my exhaustion take over.

As soon as I drifted off, the food cravings hit me with a vengeance.

I dreamt of mountains of juicy, tender steak, stacked mile-high, dripping with gravy. Golden, crispy fries piled in endless baskets, fresh off the fryer. Perfectly seared burgers, loaded with toppings, melting in my mouth—

I reached out in my sleep, a tendril twitching as if trying to grab the glorious feast before me.

Then, right as I was about to take a bite—

The Spearow from earlier appeared, perched atop a massive roasted turkey, staring directly at me as it laughed, taunting me.

I jerked awake with a strangled, hungry groan, the shining light of sunrise hitting me right in the face.

"…I hate everything."

Groggy, miserable, and still half-delirious from the betrayal of my dreams, I slowly oozed out of my den, squinting at the early morning light filtering through the trees.

My stomach rumbled.

I ignored it. Not out of willpower, but because thinking about food right now might actually make me cry if I had to eat another can of peaches so soon.

No. I had bigger problems. Like the fact that I was still basically useless.

I could kind of move now, but it was still pathetically slow compared to anything with actual legs. I had next to no control over my Transform ability, and at this rate, I was going to spend the rest of my life as a pile of goop.

"Okay. Screw this. If I can't transform yet, then I need to figure out what I can do with this body."

I had some level of control. I could stretch tendrils, move myself, even compress a little.

I just needed to push it further, and I already had an idea of where to start.

I flattened myself down, focusing on a nearby tree branch about six feet away. If I could just… launch myself forward, like Luffy, maybe I could move faster than just oozing around like a snail.

I took a deep breath, compressed my body, and then—

SNAP!

I shot forward, and for a single, glorious second, I felt weightless.

Then I overshot my target and slammed directly into the tree trunk.

WHUMP!

I slid down the bark with a very undignified squelch, hitting the ground face-first, "...Ow." sitting up straight as I rubbed my face, I caught sight of two Pidgey sitting on the tree staring at me, before cooing in alarm and flying away.

"hahh…. New plan… I can stretch and sling, but I can't control how I stop…" pacing back and forth as I thought aloud, trying to ease the ache out of my body as I did.

Maybe instead of just Luffy, I need to be add some Spider-Man into the mix? Maybe I could use the momentum to my advantage, and then pull myself towards another tree at the last moment?

I eyed another tree a few feet away, and one a bit farther back and to the left.

This time, instead of just flinging myself forward, I wrapped a tendril around the trunk, pulled back as far as I could, and then let go.

The feeling of glorious weightlessness was back, but I kept my eye on the Fastly approaching tree, and at the last moment, reached out for the next tree.

WHUMP!

Sliding down the tree in pain once again, "AH FUCK! This isn't going to work! OW!" rubbing my face, I quickly realized the issue, I couldn't stretch fast enough to grab the next tree, without hitting the first one.

My tendril carried the same momentum as I did, so I couldn't reach out fast enough before I crashed into the tree.

Damn…

"Okay, new plan."

Swinging from branches instead of flinging myself like a slingshot. It'd be slower, but at least it wouldn't end with me smacking into every tree I saw.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I stretched a tendril toward a low-hanging branch. Testing my weight, I gave it a few experimental pulls. It held.

Good.

I swung my body, shifting my weight back and forth, stretching a little further with each arc. Back and forth. Faster. Back and forth. And then, at the peak of my swing, I let go.

I shot forward. Eyes locked on the next branch, I stretched out and caught it! Swinging again, I aimed for the next, then the one after that.

I was actually doing it. I was swinging through the air, no longer restricted to slowly sliding across the ground!

I wasn't sure how long I kept going, but I was abruptly stopped as I caught sight of something new.

I slowed my swinging, letting go of the last branch and landing with a soft plap. My body wobbling slightly before settling into shape, and I turned toward the sound of running water.

A stream.

The water shimmered, cutting through the trees in a winding path, clear and fast-moving as it tumbled over scattered rocks. I stared for a moment, listening to the quiet babble of water rushing past, feeling the coolness in the air where the mist clung to the edges of the bank.

Then my thirst hit me, and I realized that all the swinging took a fair bit of effort, my body was sore from stretching so much, and I felt tired.

I moved forward immediately towards the edge of the water. An old survival rule flicked through my mind: clear, fast-moving water was supposed to be safe to drink.

Hesitating only for a second, I dipped a tendril into the stream, scooping up water and letting it splash against my surface. Cold and refreshing.

I pulled out one of the empty bottles I'd stored away, filling it to the brim before moving on to the others. By the time I was done, I had fully restocked my water supply, which while not low, had started to dip.

Satisfied, I leaned down, dipping the front of my body into the stream and taking a drink directly. The water was cool, crisp, and clean. So much better than the bottled stuff I'd been rationing.

The cool sensation spread through me, easing some of the lingering ache from my failed slingshot attempts.

I felt refreshed. I let out a slow breath, finally taking in my surroundings. That's when I noticed I wasn't alone.

Just across the stream, tucked between the exposed roots of an old tree, a small cluster of Poliwag were resting near the water. Their slick, round bodies shone slightly in the sunlight, tails swishing lazily as they floated near the edge. One of them let out a quiet "Polii…", blinking sleepily before rolling onto its back, letting the current push it along the shallow bank.

Further up, perched on an overhanging branch, a trio of Pidgey were preening their feathers, fluffing up in the morning light. They didn't seem bothered by the Poliwag below them.

And then—off to the side, almost hidden in the brush, something red flickered. I barely caught the movement, but when I focused, I spotted it.

A Vulpix.

It was curled up near a sunlit patch of grass, six tails fanned out slightly as it basked in the warmth. Its fur was smooth, almost glossy, the tips of its tails twitching faintly as its ears flicked toward the sounds of the water.

Not far from that, I could hear the sound of something rolling around and yelping. Looking over, I couldn't help but smile.

Three Growlithe, two couldn't have been very old, as they were still pretty small, and a third one. Most likely their mother, watching over them as they rolled around and play-fought.

I felt my form settle slightly, something inside me calming at the sight.

For days, I'd been running, hiding, stressing about survival. Everything I'd done so far had been, for survival.

But here, everything was peaceful.

This was how Pokémon lived in the wild. No constant battling. Not running from evil groups. Just… existing together.

It was strangely comforting.

I let out a quiet breath, watching as a Pidgey hopped along a low branch, giving its wings a lazy stretch before fluttering down to drink from the water's edge. It didn't startle the Poliwag. The Vulpix barely flicked an ear in its direction. the only one to really notice was the mother Growlithe but she looked away after seeing that it wasn't coming near her children.

Everything was so different from what I'd grown up seeing in games, shows, and manga.

And I kind of loved it.

-From Death to Ditto-

That's the end of Ch 3 folks! How did you like it? I'm wanting to use this story to work more on fleshing out plot, so I'm taking the beginning a bit slow for now, eventually things will start to ramp up, and somewhere around Ch 5 or 6 things will start to move more onto an actual journey.

Anyways, chapter question time! If you got mystery dungeoned, and turned into a Pokémon, which non-mythical or non-legendary Pokémon would you want to be? Personally, I'd love to be a Pokémon that could fly. Maybe a Swablu? Though it would be pretty cool to be an eeveelution of some sort.