Rodolfo was pleased he’d mustered the strength to knock the infected back with his wing attack and had prepared to launch a replicate, but the creature had other plans. Eyes widening as the creature charged towards him, he reacted instinctively with a smoke screen which seemed rather pointless due to the night’s darkness, but fortunately had an effect on the canine before him. Trying to take the opportunity to escape, he suddenly felt an extreme pain against his chest accompanied with the infected’s foul, diseased stench. The wind knocked out of him, and his aching body too tired to cope with the physical attacks, Rodolfo was launched backwards with a strangled growl. His body met the ground a few feet away and he lay on his side, wincing at the aching from not only his chest, but also the rest of his body – his muscles finally turning against him from days of continuous flying. He was doomed. Shutting his eyes, terrified that the mightyena would be tearing at his throat any moment, Rodolfo waited for death to consume him.
He hesitantly opened his eyes at the sound of crashing and saw that the bird pokémon had launched another attack to send the mightyena crashing into a building. Relief swept over him as he looked up the pidgeot, with a grateful smile. Forcing himself back to his feet, shakily and uneasily, he watched the mightyena turn to him and was relieved when it finally turned away and fled. However, the pure hatred reflected in the creature’s eyes accompanied with its bloodied face, left Rodolfo with a vivid image of what his last sight may have been. He shivered long after it had left, terrified of the encounter and eager to get back into the skies – he knew that was impossible though and some form of safety in Goldenrod would have to do. Slumping back breathless and wide-eyed, he looked to the white pidgeot and smiled helplessly.
“You... you saved my life,” He said breathlessly, his chest continuing to ache. “That
thing would have killed me...” He was struggling to come to terms with it all and his voice was tinged with confusion. Looking at his chest, he noticed blood smeared over which he could only guess came from the mightyena. Rodolfo had no open wounds, just many old scars littered faintly across his head, neck, chest and arms. Looking away, disgusted his dark eyes found the pidgeot once more.
“Thank you.” He said softly, gradually overcoming the shock of the battle.
Rodolfo suddenly jumped at the sight of another creature, but sank back down into a sitting position when he saw the mightyena hadn’t returned. It was an espeon who spoke with such strength, that Rodolfo felt ashamed of the terror and unnerves constantly keeping hold of his mind. He frowned slightly at the mention of the underground and glanced to the pidgeot, wondering if the bird had any more knowledge than he.
“The-the underground?” He uttered hesitantly, inspecting the creature. He noticed the scar across her eye but presumed it came out of bravery – unlike his own scars. He was a coward amongst his kind, but perhaps with fellow survivors, he could start afresh. “Sorry, I’m not... from here,” He explained. “What is this, err, underground?”