3,4

Days blurred into weeks as the slowpoke herd remained by the lake, slowly migrating down its shoreline. With each passing day Leo ventured further and further away from the herd, practicing his skills and exploring the world of pokémon in its rawest form. He had seen quite a bit, from herds of stantler to a lumbering ursaring, to even a stunky as it wandered through a patch of wetlands. But most importantly he had started to climb up and over mountains, exploring more territory on a daily basis.

This led him to his current activity – he was going to explore a cave. The six-foot-tall cave entrance situated at the base of a small, twenty foot tall cliff was a solid half day's worth of travel from the lake, and though Leo didn't know all that much about spelunking, he also wasn't planning on going in too deep. But his curiosity had been peaked, so he had to check it out.

He'd stumbled across the tyranitar tracks a couple days ago – unmistakable as they were – and in a moment of insanity had decided to follow them. They led him to this cave not once, but three separate times as the tyranitar travelled in circles near the entrance. Not once, however, did the behemoth of a pokémon enter the cave. It just…stood outside, if the tracks were anything to go by. It peaked Leo's curiosity, and he decided he had to find out what was in that cave.

Leo double checked his torches, tapping the sticky ends of the three short sticks, and nodding to himself. He was proud of his creations, mostly because it had been quite the process to make them. Normally he'd use a can or something to melt pine sap, thus creating a gummy, flammable material he could put on the end of stick to use as a torch (or use as glue, but that was beside the point), but with a lack of said can or any container that might work, Leo had…struggled. He'd made it work eventually by melting the sap on the flat of his big skarmory feather, but it was still an annoyingly tedious process.

"Right, let's get in, then back out," Leo said, standing and igniting one of his torches in the small fire he had built off to his left before kicking it out. A small curl of smoke rose from the ashes, but quickly vanished. Gripping his spare torches in his spare hand and rolling his shoulders, his pack shifting to a more comfortable position with the action, Leo boldly delved into the cave.

The entrance quickly narrowed from a six-foot-wide hole in the mountainside to a four-foot-tall and two foot wide passage that left Leo crouching to pass through and immediately worried this cave would turn out to be nothing. The cool air of the cave sent goosebumps running up Leo's arms, his footsteps echoing down the chamber as his torch cast flickering shadows on the wall. He was already lamenting the fact that he didn't have a smokeless light source – the smoke had nowhere to go here, which forced it into Leo's face.

Still, even through watery eyes and the dim, almost unreliable orange glow of his torch, he did manage to spot the geodude as it sat perfectly still in the middle of the cave floor. For all intents and purposes it looked like three lumps of stone sticking out of the ground, but Leo could see the almost too-uniform curve of its arms and fists, and the evidence of it having moved recently in the form of scrape marks on the ground.

"I see you," Leo grumbled, gingerly stepping around the unmoving pokémon. After his first mishap with getting punched by a geodude, Leo made a point to learn how to identify them from regular rocks. While he wasn't perfect – mistakes which had cost him a few more bruises – he was getting the hang of it.

Grinning to himself, Leo waved his torch back and forth in front of him, almost putting the tiny flame out with the aggressive movement. He panicked as it flickered dangerously, freezing instantly and praying that the flame wouldn't die. At least he could still see the light from the entrance from here, though, as it was just fifty feet back, but he still didn't want to stumble in the dark.

"Just a little further, then I'll head back," Leo whispered to himself, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as the torch flame settled. Forging ahead once more with only a foot or two of light to guide the way, he swiftly came up on a small bend in the cave, which, when he rounded the corner, came to a dead end. A cave-in was what it looked like, with rocks all piled up on top of each other in a sloping wave.

A wave of disappointment washed over Leo as he stared at the cave in and frowned, shaking his head sadly as he turned to head back the way he came. His foot bumped against something solid and sent it clattering along the floor, and Leo furrowed his brows as he turned to look at it. The sound it made was distinctly…metallic. Crouching down, Leo lowered his torch to the floor, searching for what had made that sound.

It took a little bit to find, mostly because the metal ball had been completely encased with rust by this point and thus blended in better with the dusty, almost sandy tan ground, but find it he did. The large ball was split open down the middle, revealing a hollow interior and a hinge that connected two sides, almost like a chest. A strange design swirled up the sides and a large button-like appendage resided on top of it. Leo inspected it closely, setting down his spare torches to pick it up. It was heavier than he expected.

"It can't be. This can't be a pokeball, can it?" Leo mused aloud, looking back at the collapsed wall. He could vaguely remember seeing something similar to this ball in one of the old pokémon movies, the one with Celebi and Ash time-travelling, but he wasn't certain.

An idea began to take root in Leo's mind and he sighed, carefully moving forward and sticking his lit torch in between two rocks, so he wouldn't have to hold it. Then he lit another one in the fire of his first torch, and found a new place to put it so it illuminated the wall further. He saved his last torch just in case and took a deep breath, carefully examining the cave-in.

When he found the skeleton hidden off to the right-most side of the cave wall, its bones covered in grey dust and cracked almost beyond recognition, Leo felt neither joy nor surprise. He just sat back on his haunches and stared at the empty eye sockets of the deceased human skull, unsure what to feel.

"Poor sap," he muttered. The lower half of the person's body was crushed beneath a stone easily the size of Leo's torso, and if it hadn't been an instant death, it was most certainly fatal. Glancing at the ancient, opened pokeball, Leo felt something strange bubble up in his stomach, almost like respect. If his suspicion was right, then the person who was killed here had released his pokémon prior to their death and said pokémon might, potentially, be the same tyranitar that paced in front of the cave.

Leo brushed aside those thoughts and began searching for more items on his hands and knees, feeling bad that he was looting what was essentially a grave, but also knowing that if there was anything else here, it could be a huge help. Even the pokeball, rusted though it was, could be used for a variety of purposes. Creating pine pitch, for example. It'd make a fine substitute for a can.

His hands flew with a desperate fury as he worked, eyeing his torches and praying they would stay alight long enough for him to complete his search.

Though his time was short, he did manage to find two more similarly opened pokeballs and the tattered remains of a backpack, tossed a few feet away from the skeleton and half-crushed by another fallen rock. It was mostly useless, the fabric moldy and decayed and anything potentially useful most likely drug away by scavengers, but Leo did find something interesting. Stashed away in a side pocket that was miraculously intact was a decent sized leather-bound book with yellowing pages and smudged ink.

Excitement coursed through Leo's veins as he gathered up his finds, shoving them in his own backpack and lighting his final torch. The other two were tossed carelessly to the ground, where they fizzled out on the cool ground as Leo hightailed it out of the cave. He accidentally kicked the geodude on his way out, and though it leapt from its resting place with an angry grunt Leo was already too far gone, all but sprinting out of the cave and stopping next to the smoldering remains of his fire, breathing heavily.

"I don't ever want to go in a cave again," Leo said, shuddering at the thought and putting out his torch. The skeleton only confirmed everything he feared about going underground – the cave could and would collapse and kill him. "But in the meantime, lets get out of here. I don't want to be around if the tyranitar comes back," With a grunt of effort Leo rose to his feet and double-checked his heading, making sure he was heading back to his camp based on the position of the sun and his relative position to key landmarks on the mountainsides, before heading off at a brisk pace.

Leo rubbed his eyes as he stared at the book, gingerly turning the pages so as not to break the yellowing paper. When he first opened the book – a journal, he had come to realize – he had been more than a little disappointed. Not only was the writing smudged, water having bled through the pack it had been in and ruining a few of the pages, but it had appeared to be in an entirely different language. It wasn't really unexpected, now that Leo thought about it, but it had been disappointing.

That is, until he began to recognize the alphabet.

It was almost funny, Leo thought to himself as he ran his finger along a passage, slowly deciphering it, that the pokémon world even used pokémon as their alphabet. It wasn't that it was a foreign language, rather, the pokémon world had adopted the unown as a writing system. He recognized most of the capital letters as typical unown shapes, it was the lower-case letters which were giving him trouble. He was getting it down, slowly but surely, but it was a process.

"…the monsters have…grown aggressive lately. I will have…to…in-vestigate route four soon," Leo parsed out, sounding out each word individually. "Dang, Archibald, you really kept a detailed journal, didn't you?" Leo asked, sticking a blade of grass in-between the pages so he didn't lose his spot and flipping back to the front.

There, written on the inside of the front cover, was the author's first name and a smudge that could have once been his last; Archibald. Leo had only read a few pages, but already it seemed like Archibald had led an interesting life. Seemed to be a fairly powerful trainer, too, though Leo couldn't tell just from the writing. He'd been asked to handle an issue on the routes, and though Archibald had mentioned a few of his pokémon they were nicknamed so he couldn't tell what they were.

"Slooow?" a dopey voice called and Leo smiled, closing the book and setting it to the side as he looked up at the slowpoke that had come to say goodnight. The pink creature ambled up to Leo's fire, carefully maneuvering around the small blaze to butt its head against Leo's shoulder. The gentle movement still threatened to knock Leo over though, hiding the dopey creature's deceptive strength.

"Heya, King. Coming to say goodnight? Everyone's falling asleep early tonight, must be tired," Leo said, scratching the slowpoke who Leo had dubbed King behind its round ears. The slowpoke's skin was still wet from the lake, though Leo didn't really mind much. "You done doing your rounds, making sure everyone's settled?" he continued absently, looking out over the lake. The rest of the slowpoke herd had already settled in for the night, the dying light of the sun slowly fading, having already hidden itself behind the mountains. Leo probably wouldn't even have enough light to read by soon.

"Slooow," King called, cocking its head to the side and eyeing Leo's fire.

"Don't you dare. You know I need that," Leo chided, gently pushing the slowpoke's muzzle away from the fire. King didn't respond but also didn't put out his fire again, something he had struggled to teach the slowpoke about for weeks, so Leo figured he got the gist. "I'll be up for a bit longer, you don't need to worry about me. I'm going to work on my spear a bit then I'll head to bed," Leo told King. The slowpoke remained still for a few minutes, Leo content to stare at the brilliant orange coals of his fire with some company. Then it turned and trundled off, sound a low call as it once again began to circle the slowpoke herd.

"You're not ready to sleep either, huh?" Leo asked with a chuckle, watching King as it ambled slowly along, nudging one of the slowbro as it went. He watched the slowpoke for a minute before shaking his head and turning his attention to the palm-sized skarmory feather shard he had found, and the long, straight-ish tree branch he was trying to attach it to, leaning up against the tree next to him.

For a little bit he had used the shard as a sort of hatchet, burying the shard in a thick branch and using it that way until he figured out the sword worked better for that purpose. So he had spent the past few weeks trying to make a spear out of it, with little luck. The primitive and still-not-perfect cordage he'd been making out of grass fibers wasn't strong enough to handle rough impacts, and whenever he tried to fix the tip to the spear in other ways it would, for one reason or another, fail.

It wasn't like he really needed a spear though, he was getting proficient with his atlatl even if he hadn't killed anything with it yet, it would just be fun to have.

Maybe he was getting a little lax, now that he was figuring things out and getting comfortable in his survival. Leo hummed to himself as he worked, trying to wedge the spear tip into a small groove he had carved into the makeshift haft. He wrestled with it, and struggled a bit, trying not to press on the edges so he didn't cut himself, and eventually gave up when the haft started to split. Leo sighed, wresting the spearhead out of the shaft and tossing it to the side in annoyance.

It wasn't long before his fire began to die out and, with a little bit of reluctance, Leo turned and crawled into his bed. He had really lucked out with this find – a medium sized hole had been dug beneath the roots of a particularly tall pine and Leo had literally stumbled upon it. All it took was a little bit of digging and Leo had a decent little hidey hole, and sure he had to curl up into a ball in order to fit, but there was very little chance he would be seen and he would be kept warm when he crawled into it. It had been his bed for the past two days, in fact, and worked beautifully.

Leo shuddered a bit as the temperature continued to drop, sharper than he expected, and eyed the dull orange glow of the remains of his fire. If it rained hard he could be in for a rough night, especially if his hole started to fill with water. But sleepiness overtook his concern and, after crawling inside and pulling his backpack in front of the hole to add another layer of protection, he soon drifted off to sleep.

A chill ran down Leo's spine, his eyes snapping wide open to stare at the dirt wall in front of him. It was so dark he almost couldn't see directly in front of him. Yet, as he let out a short, silent breath, his breath came out in a white puff. Adrenaline was already spiking through his system when he woke, the cold that embraced him largely ignored thanks to that, but now it quickly settled into an icy calm. Something was wrong.

The forest was dead silent. Not a sound could be heard, and when Leo slowly turned his head to peer out of his hole past his backpack, he could see the layer of white that covered his fire pit. His eyes narrowed. He dared not move, even the sound of his heart beating seemed too loud as he strained his senses, searching for anything that might give him a clue as to what was going on.

A dark shape skittered past the entrance, soft chitters reaching Leo's ears in the near-silence. He nearly flinched when something skittered over the top of his den, landing softly in front of the entrance. A singular sleek, black leg was visible through Leo's peep hole, red feathers stretching down to brush the ground behind it. Leo tensed, pressing his feet against the dirt wall behind him and preparing to leap out if the pokémon noticed him.

For a moment, nothing happened, and it seemed like it would just move on. The creature stood there, then slowly turned and began to shuffle around, messing around with Leo's backpack. It paused, and Leo held his breath one clawed hand reached around the edge of the pack, its head lowering to look in at Leo with piercing red eyes.

"HAAAAAH!" Leo roared, launching himself out of his hole and slamming into his backpack, which in turn hit the pokémon. It yelped in surprise as it was tossed away, skittering off into the darkness as Leo scrambled to his feet, his head whipping back and forth wildly in search of the pokémon. His mind quickly processed what he'd seen – black fur, red feathers, bipedal, ice on the firepit – a mild curse left his lips as he snatched up the spear haft. He could only think of one pokémon that fit that description.

"Sneasel," he ground out, taking a fighting stance and levelling his weapon at the dark forest. He dared not risk crossing the firepit to reach the skarmory sword – it was too unwieldy for him anyway – as he searched for the pokémon. The trees and bushes that had made up this part of the forest were nothing more than dark blobs to his eyes, a white mist filling the air and making visibility even worse. Every once in a while dark shapes flitted between trees and around bushes, chittering and hissing to each other ominously through the trees.

A sudden burst of freezing wind sent Leo to shivering, ice forming on his t-shirt and in his hair, his eyes narrowing as he sought out his aggressor. Red eyes flashed at him, and claws scratched on trees as multiple sneasel darted about through the trees.

Leo's blood ran cold. Sneasel were pack pokémon, and as a young, defenseless human without any pokémon to defend himself with, Leo was prime prey. Perhaps even better than the slowpoke herd behind him – at least they had methods to fight back with. Another blast of icy cold wind was shot at him but this time Leo moved out of the way, only able to detect it from the sound of leaves rustling. It left a fine sheen of white on the ground, and basked the trunk of a tree in a layer of white.

What could only be described as snickers echoed from all around – above, in front, behind – and Leo shuddered as terror began to grip him, his heart hammering and breathing coming in short, ragged bursts. Then one sneasel revealed itself, black fur blending in so well with the dark night that it was only ten feet away when Leo noticed it. The bipedal 'mon stared at him with piercing red eyes, the red feathers on top of its head twitching in anticipation as it rubbed its claws together menacingly. The yellow dot on its forehead was almost bewitching as it slowly, methodically advanced. Leo let out a long, slow breath, accepting what was about to happen.

The fear he had been feeling drained from his body as he settled, fixing his posture slightly and shifting his attention away from the visible sneasel. He could already hear footsteps running up behind him and Leo tensed, whirling around with his staff swinging, catching the leaping sneasel in the side and sending it hurling away with a yowl of surprise. In the next second he was swinging back around, forcing the other sneasel to back off to avoid the swing. It snarled at him, and Leo did the only logical response.

He snarled back.

"Get back here!" He snapped, advancing on the sneasel with sharp thrusts from his staff, not unlike how he would use a spear. The sneasel hissed at him and scampered off, well out of Leo's reach but remained visible, eyeing him carefully.

Leo huffed and glanced around, keeping his eyes on the ground and trees above him, slowly backing up towards the lake. If he could get his back to the water, at least that way the sneasel wouldn't be able to gang up on him from all sides, and he might even be able to draw the help of the slowpoke herd.

The sneasel seemingly did not follow, and Leo didn't understand why until one of them dropped onto his back from the trees above. Sharp claws dug into his shoulders and Leo howled in pain, dropping his staff when icy coldness began to flood through his bloodstream. The rest of the sneasel howled in unison, charging forward to attack, abandoning stealth. The large creature on his back hissed and rumbled, looking far larger than its brethren as it reared back in preparation for another attack, its maw wide open to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth.

Leo moved then, ignoring the pain simply moving his arms brought as he reached over his right shoulder and shoved as much of his hand as he could into his aggressor's mouth, curling it into a fist around its tongue. Pain flashed through Leo once more as it retracted its claws and leapt off, its teeth leaving scratch marks on his fist as it choked and spluttered, the slimy tongue slipping out of Leo's grasp. The rest of the sneasel skidded to a halt and Leo risked a glance over his shoulder to get a good look at the sneasel – no, the freaking weavile – that had wounded him.

It was tall, shoulder-height at least, with sharp claws covered in a black-ish substance and red eyes that promised death as it glared at Leo. Leo's shoulders sagged as he stood there, his arms dropping to his sides as warmth spread down his shoulders. He growled at the weavile, who growled back and once more began to advance. Leo whirled on it and charged, the weavile's eyes growing wide in surprise as Leo kicked it in the chest, putting all his strength into the blow. The weavile wheezed as it stumbled backward, eyes flashing and claws further unsheathing as it growled hatefully, feet digging into the ground, ready to attack once more –

Only to be sent flying as a pink mass crashed into it, heralded by a furious "SLOOOOW!" The weavile hissed furiously as it landed, eyes narrowing as it glared at who Leo recognized as King, the slowpoke livelier now than he had ever seen it. A blue glow radiated from its eyes, sticks and rocks hurtling from some unseen force at the weavile, who batted the projectiles away with its claws and breathed out a vicious wave of ice. King weathered it unfalteringly, growling in the back of its throat.

Jets of water blasted through the trees as the slowpoke herd advanced, catching a few of the sneasel off-guard if their yowls of pain were anything to go by. Leo gulped in relief and fear, glad that the slowpoke herd had decided to attack, but both afraid for them and for the pain that echoed deep in his shoulders. The latter he could ignore for now thanks to adrenaline – which Leo hoped meant it wasn't too bad – but the slowpoke were another matter. Sneasel were part dark-type, which meant they had the advantage over the psychic-type slowpoke.

Sneasel launched themselves with indignant shrieks at the slowpoke, who retaliated with headbutts and jets of water as they engaged, King duking it out with the weavile while the slowbro stayed back, observing the battle with watchful eyes. Then one fixated its gaze on Leo, its eyes glowing blue, and cocked its head to the side.

This distraction cost Leo, as he mistakenly assumed the sneasel would ignore him in favor of taking out the slowpoke. A dark blur leapt through the air, sharp claws raking across his chest and drawing a scream from him as he stumbled backward, falling flat on the ground. The sneasel leapt upon him but Leo, with pure instinct guiding his movements, shoved his feet upward in a kick, catching the little monster in the chest and sending it stumbling away, where a fierce blast of water sent it sprawling.

A slowbro suddenly loomed over Leo, staring down at him curiously as a wave of pink energy burst from its body, washing over Leo and the nearby slowpoke. His chest and shoulders tightened, pain dulling significantly but strength escaping him as the energy soothed him. Leo let out a breath as the slowbro moved back once more, its massive spiked tail nearly smacking Leo as he tried to sit up.

Whatever the slowbro had done hadn't fully healed him – he still hurt, and the wound on his chest was now a massive scab – but now he could at least defend himself. Leo looked up, glancing around the battlefield. There were only a dozen or so sneasel in the pack – merely half of the twenty or so slowpoke – but they did have the upper hand. King was still duking it out with the weavile, keeping the agile monster at bay for now as they tested each other's defenses, while the other slowpoke attempted to gang up on the remaining sneasel. The sneasel, however, had the same idea, and were ganging up on the slowpoke with a minimum of two per slowpoke attacked

Anger flared in Leo's chest as he stood, charging at the nearest sneasel – who just so happened to be latched onto a slowpoke's back, slashing away – and full-body tackled it. The furry creature yowled in surprise, claws raking at Leo's arms as he pinned it to the ground and punched it in the face. The slowpoke bellowed and bodily shoved Leo out of the way, looming over the sneasel before smashing the prone creature with its head.

This seemed to set off the sneasel pack, a collective hiss echoing out in the night as they scrambled away – the sneasel Leo had attacked slashing the slowpoke's muzzle with its claws, blasting Leo with a point-black wave of icy-cold wind from its maw, and scrambling off into the darkness. Leo fell over from the attack, teeth immediately set to chattering and ice crawling on his skin. The weavile was the last to leave, snarling at King as the slowpoke stared at it unblinking, and breathed a blast of freezing cold air at the herd as a parting gift.

For a moment nothing moved, the slowpoke staring off into the night, uncaring of their wounds as they made sure the pack was gone. After a few minutes they relaxed, one by one ambling towards the slowbro, who stood unharmed in the back. Leo remained where he was, breathing heavily as he lay flat on his back. Pain slowly crept up on him, stabbing deep into his shoulders and radiating in waves across his chest, which was bleeding again.

Then waves of pink energy blasted out from the slowbro, washing over the slowpoke herd and even catching Leo, as he lay on the edge of their range.

His skin crawled as it stitched itself back together, feeling far weaker with each successive burst of energy, but the pain was lessening and, when he touched his chest tentatively, Leo's wounds were healing. He let out a long, slow breath, feeling dangerously close to passing out. Well, he thought as he lay there, another wave of energy washing over him. At least I survived. But now I need to get a fire started before I freeze to death. He thought with a shudder, sitting up and dusting the snow off of his arms and now-ruined shirt.

The skin on his shoulders and chest pulled angrily as Leo stood, wincing at the sensation, and moved over to his small wood pile, miraculously untouched by the battle. It took a hot minute for Leo to assemble the kindling and fumble with his matches, not trusting his shaking hands enough to properly use flint and steel, but eventually he got the fire started. Soon enough a small blaze licked at the wood, the warmth from the flames soaking into Leo's skin as he fed it. Satisfied with the size of the fire he lay sidewise, exposing as much of himself as he could to the warmth that slowly chased away the biting cold.

Even a few slowpoke joined him, ambling over and flopping down next to the fire with low groans.

"I agree," Leo murmured in response, eyes fluttering shut. He was coming down from the adrenaline high, and probably was woozy from blood loss or something, but right now he was too tired to rationalize anything. His last thought before he fell asleep before the fire, was of pokémon. "I need a pokémon," he muttered, and slipped into dreamland.

The next day Leo and the slowpoke gorged themselves. The healing move the slowbro had used, which Leo could only assume was heal pulse, had left Leo and the slowpoke herd noticeably thinner and weaker. He could only assume that was because the wounds had to use something to fix themselves up with, and it wasn't raw "magic healing power" heal pulse used. This led to the routine feasting of fish, insects, and edible plants for both Leo and the slowpoke, the slowpoke surprising Leo by showing that they did, in fact, know about the potato plant, as they dug up the tubers in mass quantities.

By midday, basking in the warmth of the sun by laying on a rock, Leo felt almost human again. If one didn't count the torn, blood-soaked shirt that clothed him, and the pervasive weakness in his limbs. It'd take more than just one day of good eating to get back up to tip-top shape, Leo was sure.

Still, as he lay on a large rock by the edge of the lake, two slowpoke laying below him in the mud as they all basked in the sun, beedrill buzzing on the far edge of the water and murkrow cawing as they flew through the air, Leo turned his thoughts to the previous night. The slash on his chest was an angry red line, sure to leave a scar, same as the two holes on his shoulders. He shuddered at the memory, and how lucky he'd been with that. Had he not been near the slowpoke, or had they chosen not to come battle the sneasel, he would have been dinner. It was plain and simple.

Honestly, Leo had prepared himself for the possibility of being attacked by a predator. He'd imagined fighting an ursaring, a persian or luxray, and even had notions on how to fight off massive birds of prey, like pidgeot or staraptor. Nothing had prepared him for a pack of ice-wielding creatures of the dark, and it drove home one simple fact – he was not in the world he once knew. Pokemon could do things he normally wouldn't expect, and all his survival knowledge would only get him so far in a battle against creatures who could spit literal waves of snow. This was something he knew academically before, but only now really understood.

Leo sighed and sat up, grabbing his atlatl from where it lay next to him and fitting a dart to the end as he stood, turning his back to the lake. A circle of rocks was set up twenty five or so feet away from the boulder and Leo, after aiming for a second, hurled his dart at it. It stabbed into the ground two feet to the left of the circle, making Leo frown.

"Way I see it, there are two solutions here, guys," Leo said to the slowpoke down below as he sat back down, propping his chin up on his fist. "Either I figure out how to fight and hide myself better, or I somehow find a partner pokémon to help me out. What do you think?" he asked. The two slowpoke looked up at him and, after a delay that stretched minutes, responded in low calls.

"Sloooow," they rumbled.

"Both? Well yeah, doing both is a good idea, but I don't really know where to start with taming a pokémon. No offense guys, but I'm not sure I want to rely on you in times of trouble. Besides, I don't really want to take any of you from your herd yet," Leo reasoned with them.

"Sloooooooow,"

"Yeah, I know, but really, as much as I love you as pokémon now, I think I need something that can hide with me and travel with me. You slowpoke seem mostly confined to the river," Leo argued. "Don't get me wrong, if I ever do become a trainer I'll absolutely seek you all out and see if anyone wants to join me on whatever journey, but until then I'm going to keep mooching off of you, and mostly leave you be. Hey, I'll even be your early warning system, like I was with the sneasel. Because I'm pretty sure they were coming to prey on you all originally, what with the type advantage and how fat you all are."

"Slow," the slowpoke said. Leo sighed and rubbed his face, nodding.

"Yes, that is assuming I actually get back to civilization in the first place, I know. But let's get back to the matter at hand; finding a partner and befriending it through the power of anime. It's not like I have any pokeballs, those ancient ones are busted through and through, nor do I really think I have some superpower to befriend any pokémon I come across. I've got to be reasonable here, but befriending a pokémon might be my only option. Beyond that, I don't know the first thing about training. It's not like I have a manual or any –" Leo cut himself off and straightened his back so quickly it cracked, his eyes widening.

"Waitaminute. I may just have a training manual. Stay here guys, I'll be back," Leo said, ending his imaginary conversation with the slowpoke and jumping off the boulder, running back toward his camp. He largely ignored the splashes of blood and obvious signs of a scuffle as he searched for Archibald's book, and laughed triumphantly when he found it, safely tucked away in his backpack which had been largely left alone.

Returning to the rock and clambering up it, Leo flipped open the pages and grinned down at the words. "Now, lets see what secrets you hold, hmm?"

Wood cracked against wood as Leo danced around the tree, ignoring the way his chest and shoulder muscles pulled tightly with each movement. His staff – for it was just a staff now, as long as it didn't have a spear head – was held loosely in front of him, levelled at his target as he focused. He swept and twirled his staff, practicing motions he hadn't used in far too long with a body far too small, striking firmly at the tree and working out his aggression.

Sweat beaded down his forehead from the exertion and Leo let out a breath, relaxing slightly and dropping his shoulders. He hadn't even been working that hard, but he was still light-headed from the sneasel attack and healing two days ago, so any exercise was a bit harder on him. Which really only served to irritate him further, as he took a deep breath and glared at the book set next to his backpack to the right.

It wasn't the fact that it wasn't really a training diary, and that Leo had to infer how to train and tame pokémon based on how Archibald described soothing other pokémon – discounting the idea of using one pokémon to beat up another – that had Leo worked up. Nor was it that the book was so dry and boring it had taken a full two days just to get through. That he hadn't been sleeping well out of paranoia and fear didn't help either, but right now that wasn't the big issue. No, what really worked him up was the name that had popped up on the very last page of the book and what it signified.

Grunting, Leo moved over to the journal and, after dropping his staff, flipped it open to the last filled-in page, about three quarters of the way through. He had to read it again, for the fifteenth time, just to make sure he read it right.

Its been three weeks since I reached the Silver Mountains, and I think I'm getting close. A nearby cave system holds some promise – serious seismic activity indicates onix activity below, which could be the cause of the mass agitation of pokemon in the area. With any luck I'll be in and out in a reasonable period of time. I'd hate to be here when that blizzard hits. Plus, I want to see Sam's first Elite Four battle. At the rate he's going, it won't be a surprise if there's another Oak claiming the title of champion by the end of next year. Guess the shadow I cast wasn't that intimidating, huh?

And that was it. No follow up, no nothing, but based on context from the rest of the journal it was clear that Archibald was the father of Sam. Samuel Oak to be precise, which was too coincidental of a name to be anyone but the original pokémon professor himself.

Leo ground his teeth, unsure whether to scream in rage or laugh. This was all just…way too coincidental. Of course he would find the journal of Professor Oak's deceased father.

"Where you're meant to be," Leo muttered mockingly, glaring up at the sky. "I see what you're doing, and I'm unamused!" he shouted, clenching his fists.

"Sloooow," one of the slowpoke called in answer. Leo rolled his eyes and sat down, rubbing his face. He sighed and moaned and groaned for a bit before standing and heading off in search of more food, wiping away all of his thoughts. The problem with the journal could come later. There were other problems to solve first, mostly revolving around his continued survival, and Leo intended to work on rectifying them.

So, whistling and singing a merry tune that wasn't mirrored by his actual feelings, Leo headed off into the forest, his goal set. Food, and then a pokémon.

4

The furrett scrabbled in the dirt, the weasel-like pokemon digging up nuts and mushrooms and munching on them happily. Leo watched from his spot up in the pine tree, lounging like a panther on a thick branch ten feet of the ground. One arm dangled over the branch, his opposite leg hanging down as well, while his chin rested on his other hand – eyes watching the wildlife that passed below. The furrett, so far, had been his most frequent companion, and he found watching the playful creature to be a blast.

Everything seemed to be a game to it. Even when it would pick up a pinecone to dig at the nuts hidden inside, it would flip it around and toss it in the air, playing with it like a ball or something. Then it would race around trees, seemingly chasing its own tail, scrabbling up and down tree trunks and rolling in the dirt; just having a grand old time. Every once in a while another pokemon would appear, mostly rattatta or various bird pokemon, and the furrett would go charging off, chasing the pokemon in what appeared to be an impromptu game of tag. A game only the furrett seemed to be playing.

Had it not been a game, Leo was sure the pidgey it had pinned to the ground earlier would have been killed or eaten, not set free with a proud swish of the furrett's tail.

Speaking of pidgey, off to his right a pidgey chirped and Leo whistled back, the noise catching the furrett's attention as it looked up, holding a half-destroyed pinecone in its paws. It chittered something and went back to work, bits and pieces of the pinecone flying everywhere as it tore it to shreds.

Leo hummed to himself, pondering the merits of taming a wild sentret or furrett. Though in the games they were weak pokemon, he'd always held a soft spot for ferrets and weasels back in his home world. Plus it would be great to have a companion that was more knowledgeable about foraging than he – they were sure to be able to find all kinds of goodies to eat. Maybe they'd even find one of the famed berry bushes from the games, and wouldn't that be great. Leo missed fruit. Unfortunately, it was doubtful he'd be able to tame this furrett. If Archibald's journal was anything to go by, it was far easier to tame baby or young pokemon, or, barring that, adult pokemon with the aid of another pokemon.

Which means he'd have to search for a young sentret, if he decided upon the furrett line.

"I'll just keep my options open, I guess," Leo yawned, sitting up and stretching. The movement startled the furrett, who sat bolt upright and stared at Leo with wide, unblinking eyes. Leo waved at it with a smile, grabbing the branch with both hands and dropping into a hang before letting go and hitting the ground with a thud. By the time he looked up the furrett was gone, pinecone forgotten as it scrambled off. Leo laughed, scratching the back of his head and walking away, his torn shirt billowing annoyingly in the gentle wind. He'd have to find a replacement for it soon.

Maybe he'd try making a grass shirt, right around the time he wove the hat he'd been promising himself he'd make for…well a long time. How many days or weeks had it been now?

"Problem is that I can't make anything better than that. I have no idea where to start with tanning a hide, and I still haven't successfully hunted anything yet," he said with a frown, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Should probably get on that last bit,"

A pidgey, different than the one he'd just been whistling to, as evidenced by the shortened length of its tail feathers and smaller body, flitted onto a tree branch in front of Leo. It chirped and Leo responded with another whistle, to which it whistled back. Leo grinned at it.

"What about you, huh? Want to be my pokemon partner? I can help you find food – well, not really, but the point stands," Leo asked. The pidgey just cocked its head to the side and chirped again before it flew off in a furious beating of its wings. "Thought not. Why would you? You're probably wondering what this funny looking two-legged is even talking about."

With another sigh, Leo shook his head and continued on, no destination really in mind.

Leo fumbled with the long blade of grass, watching the sunflora out of the corner of his eye as he tried to mimic the way they formed the grass whistle. He folded it length-wise, and tried to curl the edges into a dome to blow on it, but nothing seemed to work. He scowled and tossed the coarse blade of grass, plucking another, shorter one, and attempting to blow on it. He glanced one more time at the sunflora, who were happily blowing away on their instruments now, pulled the blade of grass taut and tried again, blowing on it length-wise.

When a sharp whistle sounded out, Leo grinned happily. Then he flinched and leaned back behind the bush he had been using as cover, watching the sunflora through the branches. They glanced his way for a moment, then cooed softly to one another and continued to play with their whistles. Leo let out a breath, relaxing slightly. He didn't want to spook the placid creatures, watching them was quite a bit of fun, actually, though he held no real hope of befriending or taming them. Maybe if he could find a sunkern, but at that point the real question was how much kelp a sunkern could actually be. He'd seen the tiny pokemon around, and doubted their usefulness in his situation.

Leo shrugged and turned back to the sunflora, peeking around the bush and listening to the tune they were playing, trying to memorize it. He hummed along to the tune, tapping his leg with one hand as if adding a drum beat, as his eyes tracked a few hoppip as they floated through the blue skies on a gentle breeze. Soon enough the sunflora quit their playing and turned to face the sun, their large yellow faces basking in the noon-day sun's rays. Leo remained still for a few more minutes before slowly standing up and backing off, leaving the sunflora behind. He supposed it was just about time for lunch and a nap, midday was perfect for naps, but first he had a whistle to play around with.

Muttering to himself as he walked, Leo blew on the blade of grass and recoiled sharply when it sounded much more like an animal cry than the musical tune the sunflora had been playing. He frowned and tried again, blowing at different speeds and only succeeding at playing an intermittent noise. A brief wind blew, making his torn shirt billow and flutter annoyingly.

"Harder than it looks," he muttered, pausing in his walking to rework his grip on the grass, trying to work it again. A few sharp, short blasts of noise later that were sounding increasingly like animal cries, Leo was broken from his focus by a sharp tug on his pants leg. He looked down in confusion, freezing when he spotted the bellossom standing right next to him, smiling up at him and still gripping his pants leg.

Leo dared not move, but the bellossom had no such qualms. With a simple motion it let go of his pants, reached down to its petal dress, and plucked off one of the leaves, offering the yellow leaf up to Leo. Unsure of what else to do, he slowly reached out and grabbed it, eyes never leaving the bellossom, whose smile was unwavering.

The pokemon cooed softly, holding both hands beside its mouth and blowing softly. Leo cocked his head to the side and glanced at the leaf, then back at the bellossom. No way, he thought, realization as to what the bellossom wanted slowly dawning upon him. He brought the leaf to his mouth and, holding it like he had been holding the grass, put his lips on it and blew. At first there was no sound, so Leo readjusted his lips and tried again, this time a clear, ringing sound echoing out.

With a giggle the bellossom twirled, a soft ringing reverberating from it. Leo gaped. The bellossom laughed and, with a wave, wandered back to the small gaggle of oddish hiding poorly in a section of short grass.

Leo started walking again, slowly, glancing over his shoulder at the bellossom that was playing with the oddish now, paying him no heed. He blew on the leaf experimentally again, rubbed his forehead, and groaned as he finally regained his mental faculties.

"That's just…wow," Leo murmured. That bellossom showed a level of intelligence and understanding he had not been expecting, with a very simple action. It opened up a whole new slew of possibilities to Leo, though he needed some time to process all this. Really, he'd known that in the anime and such pokemon showed high degrees of intelligence at times, but he hadn't been expecting it. Up until this point, he'd only really seen the base "animalistic" side of pokemon. Meaning they weren't stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren't…human, either.

"Once again, I am shown how little I actually know about this place," Leo muttered. "I'm just bumbling about like a freaking child, aren't I?"

A sharp jab to his ribs sent Leo stumbling away, scrambling to keep ahold of himself and not get knocked to the ground again. The tyrogue advanced, the scarred fighting-type not giving him much room to breathe, and launched a few experimental jabs. Leo largely ignored them, moving only the bare minimum to avoid the deliberately slow punches, and waited for an opportunity to strike back. Leo had thought he'd been lucky to stumble upon a tyrogue, the fighting type being really rare in the games, according to his memory, but he hadn't expected it to immediately rush him for a fight.

"Jerk," Leo hissed, twisting out of the way as it tried to bodily tackle him. Without missing a beat Leo lashed out with his foot, catching the tyrogue in the back and sending it off-balance, stumbling forward. It whirled on him before he could take advantage of it being off-balance, yellow eyes narrowing as it locked onto him.

"You're going to have to do better than a tackle," Leo taunted, resettling into his stance, hands set into a loose, open palm. He shifted his feet and sunk his knees, letting out a breath to settle down as he prepared to fight once more. He'd already taken a few good hits – it was time to get some payback.

The tyrogue growled at Leo, setting its fists in a way he imagined a boxer would, and rushed him. Leo took advantage of his reach over the little monster, batting away its jabs with open palms before sliding forward, punching at the tyrogue. It spun out of the way, only allowing Leo a glancing blow, its foot snapping out and hitting Leo in the shin as it tried to create some distance. Leo wasn't having it, however, and gave chase, momentarily forgetting himself as he advanced.

The tyrogue whirled on him quite suddenly, leaping into the air with more height than Leo had expected and slamming its foot into Leo's face. His head snapped back and he stumbled, disoriented from the pain, when the tyrogue started to punch him in the gut with a series of sharp jabs.

"Knock it off!" Leo roared, pain transforming into anger as he lashed out, snagging one of the tyrogue's arms in one hand and punching it in the face with his other. It twisted and fought against Leo's grip but he didn't let go, yanking the tyrogue close and kneeing it in the gut, followed by an elbow to the side of the head that had it falling to its knees. Leo let go of the tyrogue, breathing heavily and bleeding from his nose and taking a few steps back. "You done?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

The tyrogue looked up at him and grinned toothily, rising to its feet and howling a savage warcry as it once again leapt at Leo, covering the distance in a single jump and ramming its mohawk-like head spikes into his gut. Leo wheezed and fell to the ground, the tyrogue landing on top of him and recovering first. Two punches to the face later and Leo rolled sharply to the side, tossing the tyrogue off of him and rising to his feet in one smooth motion, scrambling to block and dodge the strikes of the tyrogue.

"Fine," Leo ground out between dodges. "If that's how you want to play, then lets play," he snapped, switching immediately to the offensive. Once again he tried to grab the tyrogue's arm, but this time it was expecting it. The moment Leo's hand clenched around its small, thin arm, the tyrogue was already leaping into the air, yanking Leo down with his own grasp on it and driving its forehead into Leo's face. Leo yelped and let go, freeing the tyrogue, who immediately went to work punching Leo's gut.

The fight swiftly ended after that, the tyrogue knocking Leo to the ground with a sweeping kick to the knee, followed by a one-two punch that laid him out flat on his back. Pain radiated from Leo's body as he lay there, bleeding from his face and seeing stars fly circles in the sky – only a few puffy white clouds marring the sight. The grassy meadow rustled in a light breeze, the cool grass feeling good on his aching head. Leo could vaguely hear the tyrogue celebrating through the ringing in his ears, and he scowled, rolling over and pushing himself up. Blood pooled in his mouth that he spat out, wincing as his tongue found a loose tooth.

"Hey," Leo croaked, lifting his head and glaring at the tyrogue, who had turned to regard him curiously. "Get back here. I'm not done with you yet," he snarled angrily. The pain that came with moving only served to piss Leo off more.

The tyrogue grinned and charged at Leo once more, who remained on his knees. He waited, and waited, and just before the tyrogue reached him he leapt forward, slamming into the smaller creature's chest with his shoulder and knocking it to the ground. It tried to roll backwards as Leo scrabbled to his feet, kicking the rising tyrogue like a football and sending it sprawling once more. Before it could move Leo leapt upon it, snaking his arms around its body, pinning its arms to its chest and locking it in a headlock, his legs locking together and pressing the tyrogue's legs to the ground, its body pressed against his chest.

"Yield," he snarled, tightening his grip on the tyrogue as it struggled, thrashing this way and that in a vain attempt to escape its bigger and stronger captor. Leo would know, he'd spent enough time being pinned in this exact same position from his older brother. "I know you understand me, now yield!" Leo roared.

For a moment the tyrogue stilled, and just when Leo thought the tyrogue had listened it started to yell and glow a bright white-blue color.

"For the love of -" he shouted, shoving the tyrogue away and scrambling backwards. He didn't know how evolution worked, and a part of him didn't want to stick around to find out, but he stood there transfixed by the metamorphosis and brilliant white glow regardless. Light spilled from the tyrogue as its body began to shift and grow, its head widening and arms and legs elongating, body filling out as a sharp spike protruded from its head. Then, with a snap, the light faded and before Leo stood a hitmontop, staring at its hands in wonder, its blue and tan fur pristine and gleaming in the midday sun.

It twisted and bent experimentally, throwing a few jabs into the air and kicking at nothing. Leo cursed his luck and took a step back, the action drawing the attention of the hitmontop to him once more. It grinned, and Leo cursed louder this time.

"This is gonna suck," Leo said, slipping into a stance again. The hitmontop let him get settled with a curious expression, then attacked. The fight was over before it even began this time, the fighting-type flipping over onto its head and spinning like a top, flashing towards Leo with blinding speed and hitting him before he even had a chance to react.

Leo felt three separate kicks hit him, once in the face and twice in the chest, the last hitting him into the air, though the pain didn't register until he hit the ground. His breath came in short, sharp breaths and he struggled to breath, coughing and rolling onto his side as darkness crept along the edges of his vision, threatening a blackout. His eyelids fluttered and Leo fought it as best he could, but to no avail as he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he came to, Leo was surprised both by the distance the sun had moved across the sky, and by the fact that he had been knocked out. It must have been at least an hour since his defeat, but it seemed like mere moments. With a groan Leo sat up, wincing as his muscles pulled and his sides ached, a pounding reverberating around his skull as he leaned forward, gripping his head in his hands.

"Lets not do that again," he muttered grumpily, just sitting there for a while. "Stupid evolution, stupid tyrogue. Why'd you have to go and attack me? I'm going to be hurting for days now," he groused, rubbing his face and looking up, then freezing as he locked eyes with another pokemon.

The tyranitar stared at him from where it stood between two trees, the coloration of its belly standing out as it watched him. It snorted, shooting dust from its nostrils, and cracked its jaws open in a yawn as it turned away, lumbering off into the forest. Leo stood after a moment, choosing not to think about the tyranitar as he took a deep breath. A groan escaped him on the exhale, his ribs and stomach aching and head throbbing.

"I just…can't today," Leo said, pushing the thought of the tyranitar out of his mind and stumbling back to the slowpoke herd. It would take a good hour or two normally, but with how gingerly he was moving now that time would probably increase a good amount. Pressing a hand to his forehead and glancing at the horizon, where dark stormclouds were looming, Leo sighed once more.

Either his luck was really good or really terrible, and usually Leo couldn't decide which it was. Today? Today, it felt like the latter.

Leo shuddered and shook as he crouched over his tiny fire, the flames barely catching on the slightly damp wood, other pieces of fuel laying about the firepit to dry. The rain had only stopped a half-hour ago, having persisted well into the night, and leaving Leo absolutely miserable. He was cold, wet, aching, and exhausted, yet unable to sleep because he was cold, wet, and aching.

Thunder rumbled and Leo sneezed, rubbing his bare shoulders futilely. He had taken his shirt off once the fire had started, the damp cloth doing more harm than good once it had been fully soaked. Normally he loved rain, he loved the sight and sounds of storms rolling in, he loved the smell it left and how everything just looked and felt clean afterwards. When he was alone in the wilderness, however, with no real form of cover, as he had been unable to find proper shelter beyond crouching behind a rock to avoid the worst of the wind, Leo found himself hating it.

"Stupid storm," Leo grumbled.

"Broooo," one of the slowbro called, yawning.

"Shut up, Bob. No one asked you," Leo snapped. Then he sighed, and held his face in his shaking hands. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. I love you, Bob," he amended.

"Slooow," one of the slowpoke said.

"Hush, Steve, I already apologized didn't I?" Leo muttered, sighing once more and rocking back away from the fire. "What am I even doing? Here I am, having a conversation with slowpoke and slowly freezing to death,"

He wasn't actually dying, not really, but that was the way Leo felt. Even when more wood had dried out and the small flame grew to a merry blaze, steam rolling off of larger sticks set next to the fire to dry, Leo still shivered, the bone-deep cold not fading any quicker. His eyes flicked away from the fire, glancing at the slowpoke herd a few dozen feet away, next to the lake and hidden in patches of tall grass. Leo found himself envious of them.

They hadn't even really cared that it rained, or was cold. The slowpoke had all the heat they needed, and could find food far easier than Leo could. He still relied heavily on them for the main source of his nutrients, after all. Most of them were even asleep now, something Leo probably wouldn't accomplish until morning, and the ground dried up.

"Alright, focus on something else, Leo. Find something to do, thinking about your misery isn't going to get you anywhere," Leo chided himself, slapping his cheeks and rising, heading over to his backpack. He silently thanked the heavens for the waterproofed canvas as he flicked it open, pulling out one of his notebooks, a pencil, and gingerly withdrawing the leaf the bellossom had given him from a side pocket. It was still perfectly healthy and vibrant, surprisingly, despite it having been a few days since his meeting with the bellossom.

"Wait, how long has it been?" Leo muttered to himself, scratching his cheek. It'd been a couple days, he knew…maybe four or five? He was losing track of time. All he knew was that the days were getting hotter and the forest had been in full bloom for a while now. "Should probably keep track of the days, and prepare to head down the mountains actually. I don't want to be here when winter hits," he muttered, rubbing his face. But, that was a problem for future Leo to figure out – the Leo of today just wanted to relax and stop hurting for a minute.

After writing and doodling for a few minutes, his hands slowly warming up as he used them, Leo began to play with the leaf. He pulled the leaf taut and blew on it, the soft ringing sound it created coming in short, discordant bursts. Leo scowled at it and huffed, trying a few more times. He never really had much musical talent in the first place, but at least the leaf was fun to play with. It only took few minutes of disjointed playing for Leo set the leaf off to the side, though, as he looked up at the stars. A part of him wondered how Jack – the friend he was certain had travelled to this world with – was doing, and what kind of a situation he was in. Leo hoped it he had been deposited closer to civilization – he wasn't certain Jack could survive for too long in the wilds.

"I shall admit, I did not expect to see a human child attempt to play a song on a bellossom's leaf," a new, deep and tired-sounding voice called. It was distinctly male and distinctly inhuman, and that definitely creeped Leo out. He jumped and whirled, his heart racing and finding himself thoroughly disappointed and confused to see the pink creature standing behind him, just outside the light of his fire.

"Uh," Leo said eloquently, staring at the slowking. He observed Leo with sharp, intelligent eyes and a small smile on his face, its hands held behind his back as he stood there regally. Shadows danced across its features, the pink gem in the middle of his crown reflecting the firelight in its smooth surface. The slowking's eyes held Leo's gaze, the expression on his face never faltering.

"Worry not, I am not here to cause you trouble," he said regally, the words coming out slowly and with a lot of forced enunciation. When Leo didn't respond, the slowking frowned, cocking his head to the side. "I am speaking the language of your people, yes? It has been so long since I have last spoke in this tongue, I am afraid I might be a little rusty."

"Uh, no, I mean yes, I can understand you, I'm just…surprised," Leo stammered out, trying to collect himself. The slowking smiled.

"I cannot say I am not surprised at that. It is not an everyday occurrence you meet a talking pokemon. May I sit? I do wish to converse with you for a time," he said. Leo nodded slowly, rubbing his forehead and sitting down on the opposite side of the fire from the slowking, the regal creature gingerly falling onto his backside with a groan. "Ah, I am getting too old," he muttered.

"Slooow," one of the slowpoke called, which Leo ignored in favor of staring at the slowking.

"Now first of all, I do have one question that must be answered – what is a child like you doing out in the woods like this?" the slowking asked. Leo frowned, but decided he was a little too tired to try to play any mind games. Besides, it was a slowking. What was the point of lying to a pokemon?

"No idea," Leo answered honestly. "I, quite literally, fell through the sky one day," at this, the slowking's eyes widened. Then they narrowed, and the pink creature sat forward, stubby hands resting on his knees.

"Explain," he demanded in all seriousness.

"Do you know of Lunala?" Leo asked. The slowking hummed and stroked its chin, closing his eyes for a moment.

"The embodiment of the moon, yes? That legendary being which is said to travel between dimensions – and makes its home originally in those islands to the far south, I believe," the slowking mused, nodding.

"Right, that one. Big old bat creature made of stars. Anyways, I originally…well, I can't quite remember what I was doing, but I was just living my life when all of a sudden I fall through a hole in space and time, land on a tropical island with my friend, the sky opens again and Lunala comes through before whisking me off to here – and dumping Jack, the friend I mentioned, god knows where." Leo summarized bluntly. This wasn't the story he would probably give to other humans, of course, but telling the slowking probably wouldn't cause any harm.

He might even have some insight into the situation that Leo hadn't thought of yet.

"I see," the slowking murmured. "That is quite the story you're telling,"

"The truth is stranger than fiction sometimes," Leo said with a shrug. "I mean, it's awfully strange that you can speak English, my native tongue. I didn't know English was a multi-universal language,"

"Maybe you're not speaking this…English, who is to say that you are not speaking our native tongue? Perhaps the legendary pokemon made this possible," the slowking remarked casually, waving one arm dismissively. Leo blinked, and the frowned, immediately wanting to dismiss the notion before realizing he had no way to disprove the slowking. Namely because the unown letters still looked like English letters to him, and who's to say his perception of language hadn't been changed? Lunala was part psychic type, right? So wasn't that plausible?

"Y'know, I wasn't actually wanting a rational answer," Leo grumbled, rubbing his already aching forehead.

"Apologies, it is a habit of mine to play the Giratina's advocate – especially when I am distracted." The slowking murmured. Leo huffed and shuffled back, moving to lean against a nearby tree. He was still cold, and it was still chilly, but his conversation with the slowking was definitely taking his mind off of things. "Unfortunately, this is beyond my ability to comprehend. Your situation is unique, so far as I have heard," the slowking said eventually, shaking his head and sighing.

"You…believe me?" Leo asked hesitantly. The slowking nodded, tapping its head with a smile.

"I am a psychic, dear child, I can read the base brainwaves of your mind to tell whether you are lying or not. And either you speak the truth, or have gone insane – though I doubt it is the latter," the slowking said. Leo blinked slowly, then nodded in understanding. It felt a little strange knowing that the slowking was essentially reading his mind, but he felt awfully calm about it. Maybe he was just desensitized to surprise by this point. "It also coincides with the rumors I have been hearing going around the forest. You have been travelling with the slowpoke herd for three and a half months –"

"How long?!" Leo interrupted, eyes flying wide open. He hadn't think that much time had passed! The slowking, however, forged ahead, uncaring of Leo's surprise as he explained his thoughts.

"Starting on the day of the spring equinox. I felt an awfully large surge of psychic activity that day – perhaps Lunala had something to do with it," he said, nodding. "Though I would not be surprised if other legendaries were involved besides the Living Moon. Perhaps the lords of space and time? T'would not be unreasonable for you to have disturbed their domains in your travel,"

"Huh," Leo said eloquently. The slowking shook his head and smiled at him.

"Though all of this is guesswork on my part. It will most likely be up to you to figure out your own situation," he said, and Leo nodded, disappointed. After a few moments of silence, during which time Leo added more wood to the fire and laid more out to dry, the slowking spoke again.

"I do believe this topic has brought us off-track. My true purpose in coming here was to meet the friend of the slowpokes," the slowking said, smiling. "It seems to me they have been in your care for a while now,"

"More like I've been in their care. Doubt I could have survived without them," Leo said honestly, huddling closer to the fire as the chill began to set in once more.

"Indeed," the slowking said somberly. "It is quite impressive you have survived this long, and even had the ability to survive against the weavile pack,"

Leo shuddered at the mention of the creatures. He'd seen a few of their tracks since the attack – having made sure to memorize their footprints so as to be better prepared – though hadn't actually seen any of the sneasel. That just meant the sneasel were still around, and he needed to be prepared.

"Less like survived and more like got saved by the slowpoke," Leo muttered, shaking his head. The slowking nodded, eyes roving over the sleeping forms of the slowpoke. "It feels a little weird, being so indebted to the slowpoke. Don't think I've ever really felt that way for…most anyone before, besides maybe my parents,"

"Slowpoke do not count debts," the slowking said sagely. Leo grunted but didn't reply, not doubting the slowking's words. The issue was, he couldn't think of a way to repay the slowpoke, besides maybe finding and king's rock or whatever to help King evolve. They wanted for nothing, really. Food was plentiful, and life was good for a slowpoke.

Leo's thoughts began to wander as silence reigned, unsure of what to ask and even if he needed to ask anything. True, he wanted to know the location of any civilization, but for some reason he couldn't get the words out. Like they had lodged themselves in his throat and refused to budge. His thoughts drifted to his home and family, who he would most likely never see again, barring another twist of fate.

His musing was broken by a wet head butting up against his back, followed by a low call from the slowpoke. Leo turned and smiled tiredly at who he recognized as King, the slowpoke ambling forward to lie down with a thump next to him, staring at the slowking unblinking.

"Hey King," Leo said with a smile, scratching King's ears. They flicked, droplets of water sent flying from the motion. "What are you doing up, huh"

"She is a good slowpoke," the slowking said, making Leo's eyebrows raise. Well, at least he knew King's gender now…though should he rename her Queen then, if it's a girl? The slowking leaned forward, meeting Leo's eyes intensely. "Though why do you call her King?"

"Oh, uh, because that's what she is?" Leo said with a frown, scratching his cheek and glancing down at the slowpoke beside him. "I mean, just look at what she does at night. King here always circles the herd, never bedding down until the last slowpoke has settled in – and at some point included me in that circle. Not to mention that she was the first to respond to the sneasel. If those aren't the actions of a leader, I don't know what are," he summarized with a shrug.

The slowking remained silent for a moment, then nodded his head. "I see. It would seem dear Archibald's journal did fall into the hands of a promising young human," he said, and Leo took a moment to process that information. "Allow me to answer your question before you pose it – yes, I was once Archibald's companion, as was the old tyranitar you have run into. Though he was old even before he joined the Team, and was the newest member. The rest of the team has faded with time, though a few of their descendants still remain in these mountains," slowking said.

"Huh," Leo said eloquently. "So…these slowpoke are all your kids then?" At this, the slowking laughed heartily, slapping his knee.

"Oh no, of course not! I have had no children in my time here – I am a King who lost his throne and his people thanks to a careless mistake. I am unfit to sire more children, save for those I left already on the shores of Cerulean," the slowking said sadly, and Leo blinked, gaining a sudden insight to the slowking. "In fact, I dare not call myself a king anymore. Archibald was our king, there could have been no other,"

"I see. I'm sorry," Leo said awkwardly.

"It is fine, many years have passed since that day. Though it seems you and I have much in common," the slowking explained with a dismissive wave of its hand…paw, thing. Leo wasn't sure what the stubby appendage was really called, because it looked like a hand but also a paw like a slowpoke's.

"How so?" Leo asked, shaking away his idle thoughts. He was far more tired than he thought if he was thinking about things like that.

"You and I both had our worlds stripped away by twists of fate," the slowking said simply, and Leo stilled. He looked at the slowking and, for a moment, felt just as he did. Tired, and old. Remembering a world and a life that could have continued on to greater heights, only to have it stripped away. The only difference was that Leo was given a new chance, another start, even if he hadn't wanted one.

"How did he die?" Leo asked, trusting the slowking would understand he was talking about Archibald. The slowking didn't reply immediately, opting to stand instead and yawn.

"I will tell you in the morning. There is must we must talk about, I believe. In the meantime, rest, it has been a long day and you are still injured from the hitmontop," he said. Leo barely registered the statement and how he knew Leo had fought a hitmontop as weariness suddenly washed over him like a wave, forcing his eyes to flutter shut. He wanted to voice more questions, but, as if some unseen force had struck him, instead he slumped over King and fell into a deep slumber, darkness taking him.