Author's notes: Uh... so this is the notes section, huh? Ok, cool. I have no idea what I'm writing or how I'm gonna write this whole mess of a story into something vaguely resembling coherence, but I'll try, I suppose. I just thought the world needed more Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Bug type stories and threw my own ten cents into the pile. Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, as obvious as that should be. Yeah, that's it, let's get on with it!

Chapter 1 - Welcome to Snowfell

The crisp autumn breeze blew through the cool, lively air of Snowfell village as Pokémon hustled about through the sporadic houses that built up the settlement, powdery slivers of silver snow filled the air, dusting onto the hardy pine trees that littered the forest surrounding Snowfell. The homely location was nestled quietly into the woods, tucked away from much of the outside world beneath the tall mountain. A cliffside surrounded the tiny town's furthest edge, with furnished pine clumps grouping the remainder of Snowfell's environment.

The village's central plaza, if it could even be called that, was a paved slab of concrete arranged into a circular pattern around the grassy floor. Next to it, in the dirt hung a crooked bulletin board, tattered pieces of paper were pinned all across it, some of which hadn't even been changed in years.

A mixture of all sorts of Pokémon made their way all around the town. Though movement was sparse owing to the coming winter, there were a few relieved parents who escaped from the corner to the school grounds and its inhabitants of raucous children. Those unburdened by parenthood entered the post office to get their items delivered. Some made their way to the marketplace for a scarf or a berry. Half a dozen rested on lonely benches by the hills, enjoying the alpine view. And occasionally, groups of freeloaders out on their daily strolls stopped for chats in the centre of the settlement.

All in all, Snowfell village was the very definition of an out-of-the-way location, that, despite its seclusion, the Pokémon within lived fairly carefree lives. Simple, sure, but joyous and fulfilling all the same.

At least, that was what the Wurmple Explorer, Silkie, liked to believe.

In a far-off corner of Snowfell's pine forest, adequately dubbed Snowfell Forest, past the crooked cottage just outside of the village, lay the only Mystery Dungeon even remotely close to the settlement. It was a deeper part of the woodland. Dirt hugged the rough canyons that made up the location, with sprouts of enduring grass thriving despite the rather desolate environment. Ancient evergreens silently stood erect at the ongoing battle beneath them, their bark dampened by the occasional flurry of falling snowflakes.

"Eat this, Poison Sting!" A Wurmple fired off a pointed burst of poison energy, concentrated into the shape of a stinger, the attack jabbed into a Sunkern, knocking it away with a yell of pain.

More Grass type Pokémon attacked, not only did the Wurmple see another Sunkern, she also saw Oddish, Seedot, Budew and even a Taillow in the mix, all of them glaring at her with the intent to maim.

Oh, Arceus, she hated Monster Houses. Where numerous gangs of Wild Pokémon would descend upon unwary or unlucky Explorers and attempt to mug them of their goods. Not that there was much to steal from her, anyway - she kept what little valuables she possessed locked up at home.

Looking back at the glaring mob in front of her, she didn't know why she even agreed to save the Caterpie who had somehow wound up trapped in this place. No one cared to help her when she needed it, so why should she bother with these losers? When the Butterfree first approached her, she originally thought of just ditching her on the road and running away then and there. However, the teary-eyed look on the mother's face as the Butterfree begged her to save the kid proved just enough to tug at the heartstrings she didn't know she had.

The silkworm exhaled softly, now wasn't the time for this. She curled her tail and reached with one hand to tighten the Fierce bandanna that wrapped around the tip of her left spike, flexing the back of her head with a battle cry, the Wurmple launched into action.

Several balls of concentrated Grass type energy flew in all directions. The Wurmple tensed up, springing with great agility from wall to wall, using the suction pads on her feet to stay clung on as she grappled all over the attacks. The spheres of energy bounced across the walls of the canyon, sending dents and dust splaying everywhere. Magically, the demolished bushes and chipped rock healed themselves rapidly, reverting back as they had been prior within only mere moments of their previous destruction. It was weird ancient magic, the Wurmple could only assume. Mystery Dungeons were imbued with an unknown power that not only repaired any damage done to the environment, but could also change the layout of the location with every visit. This energy could even accumulate into physical matter. As one would often find all sorts of helpful items and money in these Mystery Dungeons. What power, though not even the most intelligent Psychic types were able to tell. And frankly, maybe it was better off that it was left this way. If it gave her what she needed to survive, then she wasn't about to look a gift Mudsdale in the mouth.

The Wurmple fired off poison in all directions; and one by one her enemies fell, either to her own attacks or to the lingering effects that her Poison Sting had on their health. First it was the Oddish, then came the Budew, afterwards the second Sunkern was defeated and finally the Seedot all dropped over, fainted and fully out of commission. What were the lot of 'em thinking, challenging her even with a type disadvantage. They were lucky that her digestive system could only handle sap, berries and leaves. Otherwise she'd take a nibble out of them without a second thought!

Actually, that Budew's head did look a tiniest bit of enticing… No! She mentally swatted herself, she wouldn't go there. By no means was she a good Pokémon, but her standards, low as they may be, certainly had their limits.

Satisfied, she turned to her final aggressor, the Taillow, who flinched as her ovular, fiercely amber eyes, ablaze with determination, directed their sights onto him, "Well, let's wrap this up, shall we?" She narrowed her golden orbs aggressively.

Another Flying type, as if she hadn't had enough of them in the past, well, at least all that experience meant that she knew well enough how to deal with their greatest strength - flight. A thin strand of silk burst from her mouth, wrapping around the Flying type's body, or more accurately, the Taillow's wings. Immobilising it instantly, and causing them to plunge. The Flying type Pokémon barely got a chance to react when the Wurmple reeled it in; in one sweeping motion, the following Tackle attack sent the bird flying right back up into the air, albeit not of its own volition. The silk dissipated as the Taillow struggled to right its wavering body straight again, 'flying' as clumsily as a leaf in a storm. Her adversary desperately attempted to stabilise themselves to fight back. The Wurmple almost pitied the poor Flying type, almost.

One more Poison Sting ended the battle.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the red silk worm adjusted the strap of her bag, it was worn with age and weather. Having withstood energy attacks time and time again. Most other Pokémon likely would have bought a new one long ago, but the Wurmple was too stingy to care. She rubbed the magenta button clear of smudge, clipping it back to make certain nothing of value would spill out, before pulling the bottle that had been hooked onto the side of the strap and drinking some of the sticky liquid within - A hearty snack of sap for her troubles.

After she had finished checking over herself and finished fixing the bottle's cap back on, she turned a corner… the kid, it had to be here somewhere. Her sensitive hairs picked up vibrations in the air. From the snivelling alone, she knew the Caterpie was behind her, rubbing her stubby appendages together, she crawled over to the green bug. "A-are they gone? Those big meanies?"

"Yeah, I'd say they're gone now," The Wurmple nodded, staring back at where the Monster House had once been, a confident grin emerging over her features. She really had defeated them all, hadn't she? Okay, now probably wasn't the time to gloat, but what she did was pretty damn well praiseworthy… "C'mon, let's get you back home." The Bug type answered impatiently towards the child, sticking out an arm for it to latch onto, silently wishing it would just hurry up and take it. She ruled out the latter, the kid looked fine enough to move, so she needn't waste any of her precious berries on it. However, as the Caterpie made its way to her, she couldn't help but notice a misstep in the little guy's footing - every so often, the kid would miss a step and nearly stumble as a result. The Wurmple bemoaned silently, cursing her eyesight - It looked as if she was gonna have to use that Oran berry after all. "You're not looking alright to me, what happened?"

"Oh, you noticed? I… uh, tripped over a root. A-And tangled my feet…" The kid replied rather meekly, there was still a bit of a whimper in his voice that worried her on an instinctive level. Though her expression didn't shift, she was already unclasping the button on her bag.

"Seriously? You managed to evade all those other 'mons, but not a tree root?" Her voice donned a sarcastic facade, simultaneously pulling for the Oran berry. Did he really need this? The stingy part of her mind screeched - once they left the Mystery Dungeon, his mum could probably fly him home and tend to him there.

However, another hiccup, no doubt from his undried tears earlier, made the Explorer's heart melt like wax over an open flame.

The emotional section of her brain won out, and she handed the fruit to the overjoyed child.

Watching the kid eat, an excruciating thought wormed its way into her mind like a parasitic fungus that drew all of her attention to it. She'd just mocked the poor kid. Ushering a frightened and injured child after potentially being traumatised through extended isolation… That wasn't a great look for her, was it? On the other hand, she did give it food, right? And asked if it was feeling better, didn't she?

The worm stiffened, illogically, the line between good and evil to the Wurmple was never clear at all. You could abuse someone, laugh at them, insult them. And yet you would still be a respected individual if you were wealthy, had connections, or was powerful enough. The last of which always rubbed her the wrong way. Her past on the big city's streets still stained her memories and filled her with abhorrence. Especially when others took one look at her and brushed her off for being a 'pathetic lil' bug'. That damned, contemptuous degenerate of a fairy's gonna get what's coming to him, one way or another.

"Hey… can we get out of here now? I wanna go home…"

The Wurmple's head fluttered from her whirlwind of thoughts. Realising that she'd been zoning out, she saw that the Caterpie was walking straight again,

"Yeah, okay." Came her bland response, she wasn't very good with words - likely a result of having lived in solitude for most of her time and whatnot.

The Wurmple produced a tiny, golden badge from her bag, it was the mark of a true Explorer (or in her case, just a really lucky heist scheme that paid off big time). The device glinted softly before a column of light flicked down, illuminating the area as the two Bug types were lifted into the air and teleported away. Pretty typical Mystery Dungeon stuff.

Right outside of the Mystery Dungeon, a worried Butterfree paced back and forth, it had been a while since she had last seen the Wurmple enter, promising to help her find her lost child. But she was just a Wurmple, one of the weakest Pokémon to ever exi- No, what was she thinking?! That Wurmple was brave enough to charge in while she herself, a much more powerful and fully evolved Butterfree, could do naught but watch helplessly as a bystander while her own child was lost to fate's whims. She was terribly worried, maybe it was time for her to head in as well… It was only a matter of time before she cracked, she knew that much for sure.

Fortunately, only several paces away, a golden light shone through, and two silhouettes emerged from within, both were short, stout and stubby. Both had elongated bodies and moved at a snail's pace.

"Mummy!" The Caterpie cried out in joy as he sprinted as fast as he could (which wasn't terribly fast due to his short legs) and leapt into a joyful reunion with his mother. Who embraced him and held him dearly. The Wurmple slowly made her way over, satisfied with her work.

"Thank you so much, Silkie!" The Butterfree slowly let go of her embrace and fluttered over to her child's saviour. While personally, she would rather die than tell anyone, seeing the well-lived Butterfree akin to a joyous hatchling's first smile as mother and son reunited did make her heart skip a beat with joy. "Truly, I'm n-not even certain how to thank you…" She dropped a stash of PoKé coins onto the Wurmple, "This is all we have, I'm sorry if I can't provide anything more."

The Wurmple, Silkie, seemed startled at the prospect of so much money, before regaining her wits quickly, "Oh, it's no big deal, I'm just doing what an Explorer's supposed to be doing: helping others, right? At least I think that's what they do…" She murmured. "This will get me through for quite a while, thanks." Keeping her tone firm, though not disrespectful, she tipped her head to the pair and turned to proceed on her way. She didn't get much out of this trip, but some money and a few extra Apples would be more than enough to keep her company tonight.

The Butterfree and the Caterpie looked gleeful at the prospect, "It's a blessing Snowfell village has someone like you, Silkie." The Butterfree commented, before Caterpie squealed.

Jumping down from his mother's head to hug Silkie, "I wanna be as great as her one day, and I want an Explorer's badge as well!" Silkie gasped indignantly in surprise. Awkwardly returning the gesture, she was thankfully saved as the Butterfree pulled the Caterpie away.

"How about this: I'll fly you back to Snowfell village, so you won't need to walk!" The Butterfree offered, the Caterpie nodded.

"Come along, Miss Silkie. My mum's really fast!"

Silkie managed a thin smile, though her inexpressive face made the attempt imperceptible to anyone else. "Well, if you don't mind, that would save me a bit of time, I suppose."

"No need to be curt; It's the least I can do, really. Climb on!" The Butterfree lowered her back, and Silkie hopped on, with a graceful flap, the three were up in the air in no time, heading back towards the tiny village that was Snowfell.

"You're so amazing, I wish we had more Explorers in Snowfell village like you, Silkie!" Caterpie exclaimed, letting out an exhale that turned to a breath of mist in the cold air.

"Uh… thanks…" Silkie looked away sheepishly as the boy complimented her, unsure of how to respond. Though she knew he was right in that there was a lack of Explorers around these parts, the demand for her services wasn't high. Perhaps it was due to the remoteness of the village, perhaps it was because of their miniscule population, perhaps it was that a majority of the townsfolk were Bug type Pokémon, which was regarded as one of the weakest types. Many thought that they were born to be eaten by the strong. Silkie, along with just about every other Bug type Pokémon, hated that notion.

Not that she could actually do anything about it, considering people's heads were as stubborn as a mule, but it was food for thought.

"How do you become so strong, Silkie, I want to grow up to be as strong as you one day!"

Snapping back to reality, Silkie turned to the Caterpie, His expectant gaze was as cute as a button. "Oh, erm… well, a little training everyday wouldn't hurt, right?" Silkie felt her words fail her as she babbled out whatever her disjointed mind could throw out. "I mean, I could even have you come over to train with me in the woods, if you like." She nearly covered her mouth right then and there. She really wasn't focused today, was she? This was precisely why she only rarely did rescuing missions. Not only because there weren't that many people to rescue in Snowfell village, but also because of the superfluous amount of social interaction she'd have to deal with each and every time she saved some Pokémon sorry arse.

She always had to help herself, so why can't the little shits just go ahead and save themselves, huh? With item retrievals, she could just find whatever she was looking for and mail it to the house of the Pokémon who wanted it back and be done with it. Escorts weren't all too bad, either. Since she was just bringing the Pokémon to a certain location, it didn't mean she had to speak to them. But with rescue missions, well, not speaking to someone after having just saved their life would be… less than polite, to put it simply. Though she wasn't privy to most manners of higher education, Silkie still understood basic etiquette.

… Well, it wasn't like she even got any missions frequently - in fact, she was simply out on a hike when she ran into the Butterfree seeking help.

"That sounds like a splendid idea," Caterpie's mother chimed up from below them. She had stayed quiet during their trip, occasionally flapping her wings to keep herself flying. "Perhaps a little training would really toughen you up, so you won't need to rely on others coming to rescue you anymore, eh?"

"Mum… I'm not that small of a kid anymore, okay?" Caterpie rolled his eyes at his mother's teasing. And Silkie had to suppress a giggle as well. Caterpie swiftly turned to her, "Come on, please, Miss Silkie? I promise I'll be on my best behaviour!"

"Sure, of course!" Silkie tried to give a warm smile, praying to whatever deity was watching over her suffering that she didn't look like a dork. Her face just wasn't created by Arceus to be an expressive one. As she stared down at the passing trees, she gently tugged on one of the Butterfree's antennas, "This is where I think I'll be getting off, m'house is just outside the village."

The Butterfree, along with the Caterpie, dropped down and Silkie swiftly dismounted, "You can come around tomorrow, preferably sometime in the afternoon if it suits you. I want to get a few things set up for training."

"No problem, Silkie!" Caterpie cheered, giving a fist pump, "Yeah, I'm finally going to be a real Explorer!"

"Not so fast, wait until you come of age first, dear." The Butterfree turned to Silkie quickly, "Thank you for this, it will be such a great joy for him!"

"It's fine!" Silkie shrugged, "It's what we Explorers do!" She grit her teeth after that sentence, its cringe worthiness melted her brain into slag.

The duo departed, finally leaving Silkie alone, her house was only a bit of walking away from the main village. She liked to be a little more isolated, it gave her more privacy to stew in her own thoughts, though, the extra privacy meant little in such a secluded village. Frankly, Silkie knew that living in or outside of the village brought very few benefits, but at least she didn't have to deal with the occasional chatter that came with living in the village. And of the bustling crowd walking about during the day, who stopped each other for chats over their meagre lives. She didn't have time for chit-chat like that.

Silkie hurried her pace, she could see her house in the distance, well, it could be barely called a house. More like a hut, or a cottage would've been a more acute description. It was a craggy, irregularly-shaped hut built out of sticks and mud, with most of its intricacies held together with silk and weighed down by stone, block by block. Fronds were bound into the rough, general shape of a flat roof connected by an ugly wooden frame that looked so pitiful even Silkie felt the need to cover it from the prying public's eyes.

The tip of her shoddy roof was topped off with an extended chimney that she built around after accidentally cutting a hole into said roof. The (mostly) circular perimeter of her house stood tall and proud under the waning sun. The muddy texture (she couldn't afford any paint) unbothered by the piercing winds Snowfell's autumn was known for. The house was a laborious result she had spent the better half of the last dozen months building. Even if it looked like nothing more than a primitive cubbyhole, it was cosy, beautiful. And it was hers.

That, and the house was leagues better than going back to being a street urchin in the big city and having to contest literal garbage bags for a spot to sleep in the dumpster, at the very least.

Before entering, the Explorer double checked some of the dried leaves around her roof, applying a little silk along the edges - the whole day so far had been one massive windy mess, she didn't want her house to become a part of it.

Her splintered door opened, allowing her entrance to the comfort of her abode. She was greeted by a musty smell, a spicy concoction of smoke, sawdust and mud. Silkie crawled inside and set her bag down onto a hook that hung behind the closing door. She would sort out her newly-acquired treasures later. She unclipped her nearly-empty bottle and took it with her, however.

A stony fireplace layered with smooth pebbles sat around the far right side of the wall. A wooden table was set in the direct centre of the house, along with a singular chair. She kept her furniture scarce. Although Silkie had originally juggled the contemplation of purchasing a second one with the money she had left over - she chose not to. It wasn't like she ever had many visitors, maybe the occasional Pokémon who wanted to thank her for her (usually coincidental) services, or the mailman who probably forgot she even existed. Even then, there was no chance she would be inviting them in for a cup of tea.

Two large boxes sat next to the back door, one containing the goodies she had amassed over the dozens of missions she had undertaken in the past. The other was her food storage, jars of sealed tree sap and several berries lined the inside of the container. Silkie opened the second box and peered inside, she only had two jars of sap left, one of which was unsealed and already eaten from. She'd need to scrape some out in the forest. Oh well, that was for later. There were more important matters at hand.

She looked at the table, which was set for one and had a shortened leg when she obtained it (later remedied by stacking an 'encyclopaedia' under the fourth leg). The 'limp' table was joined by only a single lonely plate to call its friend. She rarely ate at it, anyways. Napping by the fire while she had supper became a daily ritual as winter drew closer. And she suspected that the table's only friend would remain as the plate until summer rolled along, when the heat from her fireplace turned too uncomfortable to bear. The window's mangy brown curtains were ajar at an angle, letting thin streams of light inside. The rays reflected off of her shattered mirror and lightened up the house in mellow plumes of afternoon yellow.

Speaking of the mirror, Silkie looked at herself through the broken panes, she was coated in filthy mud, along with a few bruises from the fair number of scrapes she had gotten into recently from picking fights in the nearby Mystery Dungeon. She yoinked a piece of firewood from a basket strewn with vines nearby; and trudged out through her back door.

Her backyard spanned as far into the forest as the eye could see. She didn't have a fence, and her home was too close to civilization for wild Pokémon to attack, leaving her with a vast deal of space behind the front door.

Silkie checked the boxes by the verandah, if the Caterpie was to arrive tomorrow for training she'd certainly need something to teach with - Basic training dummies came to mind, they only needed hay, sticks, some leaves, plus her silk, and voila. Not the most solid plan, but it would suffice - the stupid kid won't be able to tell.

The supply crates were still filled to the brim with dried grass - Silkie had enough hay to last her a lifetime, it could definitely not be described for the sticks and leaves, however, as they were sorely missing from her supply boxes.

Silkie sighed, at least she was already taking a trip into the forest to get more sap - she might as well pick up some sticks and stones while she was at it.

First things first, walking over to a contraption that held a bucket of water connected to a pulley rope of her own design.

Hoisting the basket down to a rocky furnace, Wurmple groaned and rubbed a rock and a piece of flint together. She always hated this part, having to start a fire without any Fire type moves was a massive pain. But she'd rather suffer through this than to deal with having a freezing cold shower instead.

Begrudgingly, she scraped the sticks and rocks towards a clump of hay, eventually, diminutive embers burst into something warm, heated, even. Maybe she could have used a Blast Seed to speed up the process, but she didn't exactly want to risk having a gaping crater in her yard. Mystery Dungeons healed whatever damage they took, but her backyard definitely did not.

Quickly, she stuffed the hay, before it could fully ignite in her hands, into the bottom of the furnace, a soft sizzle emanated throughout the air. She waited for a brief moment as the water warmed up, until it was at a tolerable degree. Silkie yanked the bucket back onto her hook with a metallic 'thud' and pulled the string, and lukewarm water came crashing down onto her body. The Wurmple sighed in relief as drizzles of the warm liquid relaxed her tensed stance and she fell lax under the comfort of the water's embrace.

Scrubbing what she could reach (not much), the Wurmple cleaned herself off as best as she could with a brush and some soapy leaves. She left the now-empty bucket aside, it was going to rain tonight, well, hopefully, judging by the gloomy clouds in the sky. So she wouldn't have to go to the river for a refill tomorrow.

Shaking excess water off, Silkie made her way deeper into the forest, the small area of woodland near her home was, as previously stated, practically her backyard, very few Wild Pokémon could dare to even oppose her, allowing her free reign to collect whatever she wanted. She had to hurry back before dusk - she didn't want to get drenched. Berries, sticks, and leaves were all on her mental list, as she crawled about, she rejoiced in the silent atmosphere.

She always found the tranquillity of the forest to be one of the greatest perks of living here. Trees stretched out as far as the eye could see. Providing adequate shade to the dank forest floor beneath. Though, Silkie thought it was particularly quiet today, almost too quiet. There would always be the occasional chirp, scurrying, or even yelling someplace far-off in the distance. Silkie examined a suitable stick. She gave a light twist, applying pressure to it to see if it would hold; it did, the Wurmple gladly tucked it away into her bag.

By the time she made it to the trickling river that ran in the forest, one of the many rivers and ponds that sustained the Mystery Dungeon, she uncapped her bottle and drank what was left inside, bending over to wash it clean in the river. She should have done this before she bathed - it would have saved her the trip. No point crying over spilled berries now. As she dried off the cap of her bottle. A sudden chill shook the Wurmple, she glanced around, through the haze of trees that covered the forest, she could make out what seemed to be a shadow looming above her. She tucked her bottle away, eyes fixated on the silhouette about to crash into her. She couldn't take that thing on while it was in the air, so she'd have to make the fight come on her own terms. Pretending to be fixated on other matters. An ignorant fool - that was what predators liked to see in prey: a blissful, ignorant little fool. She even whistled a merry tune as she trudged slowly along the undergrowth to really sell the image. And it worked, her adversary spread its wings out and dove downwards, so it had to be a Flying type, one that looked certain to make her its dinner.

Silkie didn't turn her head, instead, she concentrated an attack, just as the shadow dropped onto her frail body. She spun a one-eighty and used Tackle, her assailant was attacking from above, so it was certainly a Flying type (or it could also have been the odd Sneasel, but they scarcely ventured out of the deeper echelons of the forest). The sudden movement caught the shadow mid-flight, and she felt a flurry of feathers drop out of the air. Rebounding off of the creature's stomach, which she now saw as a Pidgeotto, her vicious jab had caught the poor thing entirely off-guard and sent it wailing as it crashed onto the ground.

The Pidgeotto retaliated with Gust, in response, Silkie shovelled up a haul of dirt with the spines attached to her back and flung them at the weak attack, causing the Flying type energy to dissipate - it's gonna take a much greater effort than that to defeat me, you little shit.

Wurmple knew that Pidgeotto (along with basically every Flying type in existence) were her natural predators, their sharp talons and beaks, along with the ability to fly and outmanoeuvre her, made the two's battle as every bit as disadvantaged towards her as possible.

Well, on paper, anyway.

She didn't relent.

In fact, Silkie could feel her adrenaline surge, blood thudded through her head like a pounding war drum as she charged. It was as if the thought of fighting a worthy opponent thrilled her to no end.

Her String Shot made quick work tying up the bird's wings, ruffling its feathers and allowing her to reel it like a Magikarp in a barrel. As she arched up her backside, the Pidgeotto attempted to forcibly Peck its way out of its binds, perhaps if it had been just a second faster it would have gotten away, but her poisonous spikes addressed that problem without much hassle. Silkie, without hesitation, jabbed into the Pidgeotto's body as a screech split the once-dormant afternoon. She followed her merciless barrage with a second Tackle attack, cutting her string loose in the process and throwing the avian to the ground. For a moment, before the Flying type crumpled over in a heap, she saw its face go as pale as death as all hope dried from its eyes.

The finishing blow… it would've been as easy as just one Poison Sting. They were dead set in the middle of a forest in one of the most remote reaches of the continent: No one would come looking for you if you suddenly went missing. The Wurmple sighed, deciding she needn't waste time nor energy on such a menial and fruitless task - She threw some dirt into the Pidgeotto's face and carried on looking for leaves, leaving its wings entangled in debris and its feathers muddied with grime behind her.

Serves it right.

By dusk, when she returned home, she had a few good sticks, some dry leaves and a strange, multi-coloured berry she didn't know the name of. She didn't want to eat it, while most berries brought positive effects, such as healing, the alleviation of status effects or increased euphoria, some would mess with the consumer's minds or cause them to go blind temporarily. Due to the fact she had little knowledge berry types, Silkie decided that the best course of action was just to leave it aside for now (she didn't want to find out its edibility the hard way, the last time she tried that she ended up in the Doc's clinic with a horrid stomach ache), she also opened her jar of sap and refilled her empty bottle to the brim with the delicious substance.

The dried leaves crackled in the fireplace as Silkie struck the flint with a piece of rock, this time she'd made sure to snap a tiny part off of the volatile Blast Seed to speed up the process. Tiny embers sparked and went out against the rocky walls of her fireplace. Before long, a 'crack' resonated through the air, no doubt owing to the fragment of the Blast Seed she left there. But before her eyes, the leaves slowly lit up in a colourful burst of fire as she dropped the flint and stone beside her and groaned in relief. Bustling off for a good Oran berry and a… Big Apple. After much rumination, she returned the normal-sized Apple back to her stash - she deserved to indulge just a tad after such a long day.

While she was at it, she also plucked her downy, cream-coloured pillow she had made herself after plucking all the feathers of a Starly who had tried to eat her off of its disrespectful body. Though she wasn't adept at sewing, so a few of the edges were a bit torn. Ah, well. She had enough string - she'd fix it some other day. She crawled onto her cushion and undid the strap of her treasure bag, yanking the flap open. The Wurmple relaxed against the warmth of her fireplace and sorted through the items she obtained today.

The satisfying crunch of the Big Apple along with the accompanying sweet taste made the Wurmple squirm deeper into her pillow in relaxation, a rare smile permeating over her normally-impassive face as she checked over her spoils for the day, which contained: Several bottles of Ether, a Rawst berry, a couple hundred PoKé, which was certainly more than she would normally earn on a daily basis, a feminine bow of some sort, and an Apple.

Silkie herself wasn't particularly fond of using items, she mainly sold them at the market in the village to make a quick buck. But the ribbon looked nice, maybe she could tie it into a bow and wear it on herself to make her look all cutesy and weak.

It would be a good way to lure her enemies' guards down, she surmised. Very few expected a Wurmple to be powerful, let alone one wearing a goofy pink bowtie. The bow, now untied into a ribbon, had a nice pattern too; she liked the faint white streaks that weaved their way through the fabric, along with a hint of lilting magenta. Quite an exquisite taste, not for some uncultured tomboy like her, though.

She decided that she would keep it, some accessories had special effects, too. Maybe she would get lucky for once and not come up with plain old scarves worth nothing more than a couple scraps of PoKé. Worst case scenario: She sold it off for some extra coin. But it was still a win-win situation no matter what. She placed the ribbon beside her Fierce bandanna, which she pulled off and returned to some spot near her bookshelf. Before she was done sorting through her goods, she gave her bag one last glance. There were a few bottles of Ether and Oran Berries, plus one Tiny Reviver Seed - Those were her essentials, she rarely needed much else other than that; And never went anywhere without them.

Oh, right. Can't forget about her Warp Seed, too. She didn't have any Escape Orbs, so this was the closest she could get to a safety net in case things started to go south in a Monster House.

With the sorting done, she begrudgingly moved from the comfy fireplace to fetch a picture book and return her treasure bag, accompanied only by the soft sound of pouring rain dripping down her surprisingly sturdy roof. So there was the predicted rain Snowfell's weathermon had reported. Silkie concluded. According to that Castform, Snowfell was due for one stormy night, followed by an equally chilly morning. She gave one last glance through her window before sliding the blinds shut, thankful for the warmth her shelter provided. Being a Wild 'mon right now must have sucked! She smirked devilishly.

She flipped the cover open on her story, not bothering to check the words on the title - this was one of her favourites. The story was of a pretty Vivillon who had just evolved and was not yet accustomed to his new wings, having preferred his body during his earlier days as a Scatterbug.

He followed with a rebellious phase, hiding away in his dorms despite the Guild's necessity for his efforts. But eventually, after much coercion, he was forced out of his home and mandated to interact with his guildmates until he grew to accept his new self on his journeys… and maybe even found love in the friends he made along the way?

Silkie hadn't a clue what the last picture meant - The Vivillon was snuggled with a clutch of Scatterbug and another Vivillon to join his home. Well, the epilogue didn't usually contribute much to the main story, she was sure. She knew she wasn't the most intelligent 'mon on this side of the Mist Continent, considering she used an encyclopaedia to stack her missing table's leg (she didn't know what the fancy words on it meant, but it was sturdy and thick, so she gave it a new purpose in those traits).

Though it was certainly a bit childish, Silkie appreciated the sentiment, if only because she loved the pictures and could only merely infer what they meant. Maybe the book had an entirely different message to her exegesis. Still, she 'read' on. The only thing stopping the Wurmple from getting her well-deserved break was the clinking of her Explorer badge against her carapace, which she must have forgotten to remove earlier. Unclipping it, she placed it in a tiny box and set it aside her table - normally she'd have placed it back in her bag but she felt too comfortable to even consider the very concept of moving from her spot.

All things considered, it was a productive day, and Silkie was glad for it.

Soon Silkie began curling up lazily against the fireplace, snoozing gently against the warmth and comforting embrace of heat against the backdrop of falling rain and blowing winds.

Something in the back of her mind incensed her, and it wasn't just the rain sizzling against her crackling fire. The Caterpie that she risked her head while neck deep in the woods to save. She promised him something… so more crappy chores for tomorrow. Great.

Two good deeds in one day… That wasn't like her at all… Were her last fleeting thoughts before the reverie of an intangible darkness and the promise of sweet dreams overtook her.

A Surskit dashed atop the reflective surface that was a magnificent pond, the only light aiding her in her journey came from the slit of the moon. Thin slivers of it poured through the densely-clad reeds that filled the pond. Though the water skater thought that glimmering water under the pale moon was a beautiful combination and thus, was not bothered by the fairly faint amount of lighting. Some of the reeds must at least have some shelter for her, right? She had been searching all day, after being nicked in the antenna by several Wild Pokémon, and a certain Flying type that made her wail in pain and terror, pricked all over by plants she hadn't seen when foraging for food in the undergrowth, and falling into a swampy marsh that still left parts of her body caked with dirt and mud. She was fatigued beyond belief.

But even as a now-escapee of Von Vegir, she'd maintain her dignity no matter the cost.

She didn't think escape would be so difficult, but she vowed that she'd never go back, so perhaps the joke was on her this time. Even if she was on the brink of exhaustion, or ensnared within the gaping jaws of some unforeseen predator, it would still be better.

Although she had preferred some company. After having dealt with intrusive 'mons her whole life, the quaintness of nature was calming to her as well, especially after such a laborious day. It was getting cold now, her natural sensitivity to the humidity in the air told her that rain was coming soon - though she didn't mind owing to her secondary type, she even looked forward to sleeping under the rain. Not only would it wash off the sweat and grime that remained stubbornly stuck to her body, she'd never experienced being under the rain for so long; they'd never allow her, that's for sure. The graceful tranquillity brought by the hushed storm calmed her pounding heart. A somewhat large bundle of reeds looked to be offering promising enough shelter, so she redoubled her efforts and skated over.

Parting a bundle of vegetation, the area was just small enough that her body could squeeze inside, it felt discomforting, bits of wild grass jabbed into her blue body nearly as hard as the thorns of a rose vine. Not at all what she had been used to before she escaped, but the Surskit didn't mind, the silent ambience of the quiet night was one hundred times better than the constant yammering she would have had to put up with if she hadn't sprinted away today.

Adjusting her broad-brimmed hat to better cover up her head and to provide camouflage, the Surskit napped, surprisingly peacefully, given the uncomfortable conditions she had found herself encroached, in the embrace of a thorny bundle of thick, overgrown, wild reeds.

The next day… she'd probably have to find real shelter, something that included a roof over her head she'd pine for. Despite her resistance to the cold… she could already feel the piercing winds drill deep into her core. And her antenna's sensitivity to moisture in the air told her heavy rainfall was due inbound.

The Surskit shivered - It ought to be a restless night.

And that's that! So, how was the newly written chapter? Good, bad, an oversaturation of descriptions? Tell it to me in the comments if you want (just be constructive, I'm not a fan of mean comments)

Inspired by these writers/artists, check them out in your free time!

VGS2_the_Sexy_Sausage - Questing for respect

(A story about a Buneary's day-to-day life in a chaotic guild, slight bits of lewd so be warned!)

ShrubSparrow - Team Rowanberry

(Not a story, but rather a comic of a trio of lively little explorers trying to make a living in the world. Very warm and fuzzy.)

ThePrinceOfPuddles - How my partner will think of me eventually

(Whether or not two very different Pokemon opposite each other on the food chain can work together, or be doomed to nature's whims!)