(ACE) The PALLET Team

The hole is dug in mere seconds, thanks to Dig.  Arceus, he loves this move.  The ability to be able to dig a tunnel big enough to climb through in just moments had been handy when the world was normal and intact, perfect for hiding from neighborhood kids who made him nervous or for helping Anne with her sand castles on the beach.

Now, however, with the world in shambles, it's a lifesaver.  Literally.  Oliver can't remember how many times he avoided undead or hostile survivors by simply digging beneath them.  The first and only time that backfired (thankfully) was with-

Nokes.

The old wound is painful to recall as he drops the gun into the hole and moves to replace the displaced dirt.  But he can't deny that putting distance between himself and that place helped.  Wherever Nokes had gone after that fiasco, what were the changes he would end up here?

He's pleased to find, as he places the last handful of earth into the hole, that the sting of embarrassment and the ache of fear that accompany the memory have diminished.  Maybe, with time, it won't hurt much at all.  Probably one of the very few traumas he can say that about.

Looking up from his completed task, his head jerks back a bit at the sight of Phobos behaving more like a paranoid surveillance camera than a curious child.  "Uuum... a-are you okay?"  

Shit did he see something?  Fear spiking, he stands up on his hind legs and sniffs the air, wide eyes glancing back and forth.

Shadowmere was running, in endless darkness.

All around her, was darkness. She couldn't breath, she was being swallowed up by the emptiness that drove down on her shoulders, filling her nose and choking her. Outside of her dreaming state, the Houndoom gagged, a choking sound evident as fresh tears leaked from her closed eyelids.

She twitched, her legs kicking out more forcefully as her claws snagged on the carpet and nearly tore one of her nails out. She had run from the darkness now, and she was standing in a field, surrounded by tombstones, and a shadowed figure walking up ahead. Shadowmere barked and ran up to them, only to find they had disappeared once her nose touched the shadowy figure. She whirled around, and found herself standing in a pool of blood, staring at the rotting corpse of a human and choking on the scent of death.

Iron stung her senses, and  in her sleep, Shadowmere had bitten her tongue, making the taste of pennies flood her mouth. She was thrust back into the field with her dead brother, watching as she tried to pull the corpse into a freshly dug hole. She was crying again, her body shuddering as the hound began to choke and gag on sobs.

If she didn't wake up soon, the hound was probably going to end up hurting herself further.

Phobos truly hadn't realized his behavior, nor spared a thought as to how others might perceive it as unusual. Having been alone for so long, his method of "keeping an eye out" is completely normal. So when Oliver speaks up, eyes wide with fright, the ghost is legitimately taken aback. The other Pokemon looks as though he's seen a ghost...metaphorically, of course. Phobos floats down closer to the ground, now no longer looking at anything other than his companion. Maybe that would show him there's nothing to be afraid of?

"Uuum... a-are you okay?"

Realizing that he is the cause of the other's fear, and that he had been acting anxious enough for someone to take notice, Phobos lowers his eyes out of shame. How could he explain the cause of his paranoia? Though they were all seemingly nice Pokemon, he only met them last night. It isn't exactly a priority of his to share his life story or the source of his fears to people Phobos can't claim to fully trust. At the same time, the thought of scaring somebody and being unable to explain why saddles him with nothing but extra guilt. Why couldn't there be a nice middle ground for once in his life?

"Y-yeah. It's nothing." Phobos has to fight the urge to start looking around again, just in case. He'd just make things even worse if he did something like that, especially if it was right after he'd clarified that nothing was wrong. The only thing the ghost can do is curse his natural instincts; what good were they in this situation other than starting trouble? If Deimos really is around, Phobos probably isn't going to catch it anyways. His sibling is good at hiding, sneaking around, and above all, messing with Phobos' mind.  "I'm just being dumb. I'm sorry if I scared you."

Ellie had not stopped talking all morning.

It was a new region; a new place full of fresh experiences, so of course she was bound to be excited, but her constant barrage of questions and random observations was driving Noah mad.

The big Swampert plodded into the patches of mist that covered the awakening town, his sharp eyes scanning every inch, every corner, while Ellie rambled on from atop his head.

"Do you think this place will have those big, scary monsters? Like, that green one that looked like a dinosaur? I hope not; he was gross! Maybe they'll be eggstinct here. I wonder how many -- that's a cool-looking tree -- I wonder how many towns we'll find. If there's one as big as that one back in Johto then--"

"Ellie..." Noah stopped, raising a hand to rub his aching temples. "Give it a rest now, will you? I can't hear myself think."

Mercy be blessed, she was silent for a moment, before muttering, "Just excited, is all."

"I know." He moved his hand up to where the little Taillow was nestled between his fins, and he felt her tiny beak peck at his palm affectionately. "I am too, but we could do with a place to take a rest."

Ellie responded with a yawn, and he felt her ruffle her feathers as he crept forward again. An attack had woken them up an hour or so before dawn, and so Noah had decided to make the most of the time and continue their trek into Kanto. His body was still pleasantly damp from when he'd had to take a route across the water, and the mist rolling in from the sea in the south kept it wet. He sometimes wished that the sun didn't have to come out and burn it all away.

"Eeeww..." Ellie said, rubbing his skin with her sharp little talons. "You're all sticky and gross again."

As they wandered further away from the sea, buildings finally began to materialize out of the fog. It seemed that they were in a town after all. Noah lumbered along the road, looking for a building suitable enough for them to take a break. Almost every structure was either burned to cinders, roofless or falling apart. It looked as though this place had been hit very hard by the infection.

"Did you see that?" Ellie said suddenly, pecking at his head to get his attention.

"See what?"

Ellie was quiet for a moment. Noah felt her lean forward, her talons tapping thoughtfully at his skin. "It looks like a big butterfly."

Noah squinted through the murk, creeping forward with his body low to the ground. She was right; a Vivillon with large, white wings was dragging something out of a nearby building.

"You gonna go kill it?" Ellie asked eagerly. For such a small, delicate little thing, she really did enjoy watching him maul things to death.

But there was something about this Pokemon that felt ... different, to the others. It did not lumber or stagger like the undead did; its movements were very ... normal, for lack of better word. The scent of decay that usually hung in the air around an infected was absent as well.

Noah's heart leaped, and then immediately plummeted again as he slowly reached up a hand for Ellie to touch. No. This couldn't happen yet. It was too soon.

"I ... I don't think its infected."

Ellie's silence could've sliced through the mist like a blade of air.

She had managed to drag the body to the hard path when she paused for a breather, and that's when she heard someone's voice that she didn't recognize. "I ... I don't think its infected." The Vivillon froze in place and dropped her hold before turning to face the direction the sound came from. The morning's fog had stubbornly hung around and made it difficult for her to see very far. However, despite that, she couldn't miss the hulking blue shape that stood further down the path. Since she figured it wasn't talking to her, then there must be someone else, but no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't distinguish another being. They must have been talking about her...

Immediately, she pulled up the eyeshield in case they started attacking. She called out in a strong voice, "Who are you?" She hoped her voice would carry to Oliver and Phobos, and that they would take that as a warning to hide. Despite the size difference between her and the strange figure, appearing weak was often an invitation to attack, and she wasn't going to take any risks. On the off chance that they did not want trouble, however, she refrained from attacking. She was ready to fly higher if she needed to escape. She did decide to add, "I don't want trouble," just in case they were the second kind of living. Considering her current run of luck with living, it was worth a chance. Also, considering how large the Pokemon was, she wanted to try civilities first.

Phobos lowers himself to more Oliver's height as the chimp speaks.  For the first time he realizes just how large the ghost is.  

Not fair! some petty part of his mind whines at him.  Ghosts aren't corporeal; why should he get to be bigger!?

... Then again, plenty of ghosts are corporeal, and besides, he knows nothing of ghosts.  Maybe size matters to them, too.

Still, if there's a ghost bigger than Phobos... just how big must they get?

The ghost lowers his gaze in a gesture Oliver is far too familiar with. "Y-yeah. It's nothing. I'm just being dumb. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"I don't think you're being dumb."  For once, thoughts bypassing any kind of filter isn't an immediate disaster.  Now to not screw it up. "The world is- w-well- it's a dangerous world now."   

He can feel his face flush as he glances back at the house.  No sign of Isolde.  No sign that they need to go back inside right this minute.

"Trying to stay alive isn't dumb.  I look around like that all the time.  I just thought maybe you saw something?"  He shudders a little.  "Really glad you didn't.  I don't want to deal with the dead anymore..."

Not that the world cares one iota what he wants, but the less he sees the walking corpses, the better.

Shadowmere flinched, her eyelids flickering back and forth as she tried to run from the shadows that were pursuing her through her nightmare. She ran through fields soaked in red, and lept over the bodies of houndours with their spines torn from their bodies and lain across her path like snakes that writhed to strike at her legs as the Houndoom ran past them.

Her paws bled, leaving bloody pawprints across the dark ground, and she was acutely aware of the shadows that chased her, their whispers pounding in her ears as she ran across the vast expanse of the nothingness ahead of her.

Once or twice, she tried to turn, to get away, but every time, she found herself helplessly lost, unable to escape the whispers as they cooed in her ear, telling her to give up, to just lie down and die. There was a white light ahead, a shadowy form that emitted a comforting aura. Shadowmere made a beeline for it, her breathing hitching as she got within a pawstep of the shadow, only for it to disappear.

N-no! She ran after the shadow, her heart lurching to find that comfort once more. She wanted to find it again, no, needed to find it again. She didn't want to be alone any longer. She needed that comfort of a familiar presence. She needed to be back where she could breath easy, without fear or danger.

The hound began to stir, he breathing hitching for only a moment before it smoothed out again, a comforting presence washing over her form. "Thank you..." The hound mumbled in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her. "Brother..."

"I don't think you're being dumb." Oliver's response is almost immediate, and Phobos cannot help but stare a little. He'd thought the other Pokemon would have been at least a little upset with his flimsy explanation, but here Oliver is trying to make him feel better. It's almost surreal. "The world is- w-well- it's a dangerous world now." I can't argue with that. In a way, the world has always been dangerous for Phobos; were there other Pokemon out there who could claim the same? The odds of that must be high. He thinks back to Shadowmere and her terror, and pain...

Maybe Phobos isn't as much of an outsider as he believed.

Oliver isn't yet finished with speaking, though, and Phobos only barely stops himself from interrupting. The ghost nearly winces, thinking of all those times he'd been "punished" for speaking out of turn. Even with a Pokemon that seems unlikely to ever hurt a fly, the fear of backlash still lingers. How does that make sense? How is it fair? "Trying to stay alive isn't dumb.  I look around like that all the time.  I just thought maybe you saw something?" Oliver shudders, and Phobos wants to apologize again. This is his fault, him and his stupid fear. He'd freaked another person out for no good reason. "Really glad you didn't.  I don't want to deal with the dead anymore..."

"I don't, either," Phobos agrees, though the last part he dearly wants to say is kept to himself-"but the living are worse." It isn't fair to say that to one of the Pokemon showing him hospitality, for now. Deimos is the problem, the center of the entire mess. Phobos has to remember that. Deimos is the one to blame, not Oliver, or any of the others living in the house. Unless they prove otherwise, but...no, he won't think like that. "Have-Have you seen any around here? Like, recently?" Phobos does not know why he tripped over the first word, but something feels...off? Not wrong, just...he can't even describe it, though it's on the tip of his tongue. That must be the paranoia trying to speak for him. It's got to be.

Too soon too soon too soon--

Dozens of scenarios swam around in Noah's head, stirred to the surface by the sight of the Vivillon; scenarios he'd gone over countless times in his head at night when he couldn't sleep. It was bound to happen someday, but he'd refused to believe it.

Ellie's silence was louder than any words she could ever say. He could only imagine what was going on in her little head right now, at the sight of the first living Pokemon she had ever seen besides Noah.

He shouldn't have said anything. He should've just kept walking. He was no seer, but he had the sinking feeling in his heart that things were about to go so horribly wrong for him.

A final vision flashed through his mind; one where he was alone and in despair, without Ellie.

He had to get out of there.

But just as he turned to flee, a voice rang out from behind the gloom. "Who are you?" She'd seen them, and even worse, she'd spoken. Noah didn't have time to even raise his hand as Ellie fluttered down to the ground and hopped off towards the big butterfly.

Muttering curses under his breath, Noah lumbered after her. She stopped just short of the Bug-type, gazing up at her with her beak hanging open in awe. Noah had never seen her so still. So quiet.

"I don't want trouble," the Vivillon said, looking cautiously down at them. Noah reached out his huge hand and closed it gently around Ellie, lifting her back up to his head. She didn't protest or squirm like she usually did.

"Neither do we," he said to the bug, starting to back away. He needed to get Ellie away from there; already he was trying to conjure up lies he could tell to kill her curiosity. This was far, far too soon. He wasn't even close to letting her go yet. "We just got to this region, so we're a little lost ... we'll be on our way now."

The large blue blob didn't move closer at first, but she soon heard a soft sound. It got closer, and it prompted the shape she could actually see to also come closer. Isolde tensed for a potential attack; whatever it was hadn't spoken yet. She feared that it wasn't alive and prepared for an attack. What actually made the softer sound revealed itself as a small bird Pokemon hopped up to her and gaped. The open beak brought an unwanted reminder of her early life, but she quashed any thoughts of the murderous birds that had eaten most of her swarm. As the bird approached, Isolde looked for signs of infection, but the eyes were normal and not glowing. Since the bird hopped and didn't fly, Isolde had to wonder if there was something wrong with them. The wide eyed innocence hinted at youthfulness...

The large blob soon took shape as a bipedal Pokemon that was completely unfamiliar to the Vivillon. She had a feeling that this was a Pokemon not to be trifled with. Thankfully, they also appeared to be alive, healthy, and not aggressive. One of their large hands scooped up the small bird before responding, "Neither do we." He must be the small bird's guardian. She carefully watched him place the bird on top of his head as he backed off; she wasn't going to relax until he was gone. He explained, "We just got to this region, so we're a little lost ... we'll be on our way now." He seemed almost as eager to get away from her as she was ready for them to leave. He might have a child with him, but how one acted towards their own children wasn't universal. She wasn't going to risk him hurting Phobos, Oliver, or even Shadowmere. She wasn't completely sure on the stranger's typing, but he looked like a water type, and that could be bad for Oliver and Shadowmere.

She flared her wings in a defensive manner to block that path behind her. It was a clear warning to not come in this direction. One of her group was asleep, and the two children were outside. Despite her suspicions of the large pokemon, the child's presence prompted her to at least offer information, "Haven't seen many undead here, but keep your eyes open." It was probably useless advice, but after losing Sukoshi in that manner so quickly... She'd hate to know that someone else was separated from their guardian or charge because she didn't warn them.

Control yourself, Oliver admonishes himself.  He shouldn't have shuddered like that; now Phobos feels guilty.  Probably for setting his nerves off.

Oh, Phobos.  His nerves are so easily set off.  It's not your fault.

"I don't, either," the young ghost admits.  Not a surprise there; who wants to deal with the undead?  Unless you had some sort of savior or martyr complex.  Or a death wish.

A very horrible death wish.  Though maybe second death is different for ghosts than first death is for everyone else.  Regardless, he's not eager to find out, and he's sure Phobos isn't either.

And hopefully they never will find out.

"Have-Have you seen any around here? Like, recently?"

"The dead?"  What a stupid question.  "Um- no, actually.  Not- not around here at least.  I did see some in the woods beyond the town, but not a whole lot."   

The dead eventually collapse into piles of rot.  The outbreak was- it's been four winters?  So four years.  The initial wave that were created in the outbreak must be permanently dying off.  Or else they'd probably have a much harder time defending this place.

Of course, society is still in ruins and the living are still the living.  Desperate or paranoid at best, using the collapse of the world to get away with awful things at worst.

"I don't think we need to worry about the dead too much if- if we... keep a better eye out for... the teleporting kind."  His fault.  His eyes glance at the grass.  "I'm more worried about other survivors..."

Shadowmere whined and twitched in her sleep for a few moments, before jolting awake with a gasp. She looked around for the familiar faces of her companions, but when she saw no one, her world crashed down around her.

Struggling to her paws, Shadowmere ran for the door, bolting out of the house and into the night, not even noticing as she passed by Isolde in her race to get away. Her legs carried her far, fast, and she didn't even think to look back as she ran into the forest, and away from the burning town.

"The dead?" Phobos stares for a second, the question confusing him-he did specify undead, right? Not living? Suddenly the question he asked only moments ago falls straight out of his memory and faceplants onto the ground. What did he actually say? The ghost nods his head quickly, hoping that his momentary stupidity would go unnoticed. "Um- no, actually.  Not- not around here at least.  I did see some in the woods beyond the town, but not a whole lot."

That's definitely a good thing. The "not being in town" part, at least. It was always easy to hide from the dumb red-eyes-sticking to the shadows and waiting almost always worked-but even so, he doesn't like the slightest chance of being attacked by one. Phobos isn't too fond of that awful, weird 'aura' they give off, either. Is aura the right word? Oh, well. If this place is safe from the red-eyes, then he's all for it. Though, that really doesn't solve his other problem...

"I don't think we need to worry about the dead too much if- if we... keep a better eye out for... the teleporting kind." A-a better eye out? Does that mean they've had encounters with teleporting red-eyes before? The thought is a chilling one; Phobos imagines one suddenly appearing before them, and snatching him away to Uxie-knows-where. But that can't happen, right? He's a ghost, it'd be like trying to grab air! "I'm more worried about other survivors..."

Now Phobos is focused enough to see Oliver looking downcast, and another twinge of guilt falls on him. The poor guy must have been through a lot to be this nervous, and the ghost can understand that. Maybe everyone has their own Deimos in life. Phobos knows all too well the burden of not being able to trust a single soul. Just because someone's alive doesn't mean they won't hurt you.

The ghost doesn't know the words to say that would comfort Oliver, but he doesn't need them. From out of nowhere, there is a sudden loud crash from the house, like something ran into the side of a wall-did someone break in? Uxie above, please don't let it be that! Phobos looks at Oliver with an expression of complete bewilderment before hearing something else, or rather, someone else-Isolde. He only picks up on a single word: Shadowmere. Oh no. Oh no no no no.

What had his Hypnosis done to her?!

[Permission given to include Isolde shouting Shadowmere's name. Please let me know if anything needs to be edited]

The Vivillon outstretched her massive wings, their fine scales glittering like snowfields in the gloom. Noah heard Ellie suck in a gasp of awe, but Noah felt as though she was trying to hide something from their view. Or was he simply imagining it? He found his gaze glancing warily at the object she had been dragging along with her.

"Haven't seen many undead here, but keep your eyes open," she said. Noah nodded lightly so not to unbalance Ellie, and started to back away.

"We will," he replied, trying to offer her a friendly smile, but her cargo was looking more and more human-shaped the longer Noah looked at it. "Thanks. You take care now."

But, of course, Ellie was not going to cooperate so easily. The Taillow fluttered back down to the ground the second he started moving. "Wait! She--" He could see the wonder, the confusion, the curiosity on her face all at once. He could only imagine what was going on inside her tiny head at that moment. He wanted to grab her and run as far away from there as possible and never return, yet another part of him wanted to show her, tell her everything about the world that she had missed. He wanted to set her free. Just ... not yet.

"She can talk!" the baby Taillow cried, turning to look at Noah with her beak wide in a joyous smile. Noah could feel his heart starting to warm and break at the same time. "She can talk just like us! Is she-- is she not a monster?"

Noah could not answer, nor find the will to speak. Cracks were forming in the foundations of his world.

Ellie, it seemed, did not need his clarification. She hopped another step towards the Vivillon, her head tilting as she gazed at her. Finally, she said in almost a whisper, "Do you have a name too?"

"We will," the strange blue Pokemon assured while sending a somewhat strained smile towards her. It seemed that the other had noticed her cargo, and while he hadn't said anything, she had a feeling it was making him nervous. He offered in farewell, "Thanks. You take care now."

Before they could take their leave, the small bird fluttered down from her perch and protested, "Wait! She-- She can talk! She can talk just like us! Is she-- is she not a monster?" The declaration was strange; of all the things that the child had pointed out, it was her ability to speak. Then it hit her. The child was so young that she might not have seen any other living other than the adult currently with her. The child looked so happy and in awe at this revelation that Isolde had a sad smile. The child's guardian may have also decided to stay away from living. As Isolde knew all too well, living Pokemon could be more dangerous than the undead. At least one knew for sure the undead wanted to eat anyone they found. She hopped a little closer to Isolde before whispering, "Do you have a name too?"

She had no reason to lie to the child so she simply answered, "Yes. I'm Isolde." The Vivillon glanced up towards the child's guardian to see if he was going to object. Out of habit, before she could catch herself, she asked, "What's your name?"

Unfortunately, there was a loud crashing sound that comes from behind her, and even though taking her attention from the large living in front of her could be dangerous, she still had to glance over her shoulder for any sign of what happened. Her suspicion flares again and she flutters backwards a few paces. That sound... it came from the house! Horror settled into her chest as she was torn between dealing with the newcomers and bolting straight back to her group. She heard pawsteps approaching, and the morning mist still hid what was making the sound. She had to glance again at the two new people, and when their faces didn't betray a trap like she feared, she made a split second decision to show them her back and stand in front of the small bird. When the being got close, Isolde was  momentarily confused; it was Shadowmere. When had the hound awakened? The confusion was replaced with fear when she beheld the hound's terror stricken countenance. She nearly shouted, "Shadowmere? What's wrong?" An icy hand gripped her stomach when the hound completely ignored her and ran past. This time she did yell, "Shadowmere!" What could have happened to scare the hound so? Then a panicked thought settled in. Where are Oliver and Phobos? She couldn't hear any screaming, but that didn't mean they were safe. She wasn't sure what had spooked Shadowmere, but she owed it to the children to keep them safe. She had somewhat promised to Sukoshi and later to herself that she would keep this group safe. Shadowmere had been able to get away, but Oliver and Phobos were nowhere to be seen. While she was still suspicious about the newcomers, she needed to go. Not particularly caring if they heard, she said, "I have... I have to check something," and then she took off.

She didn't bother covering where she was going and made a beeline for the now opened shelter. She didn't go in for fear of getting ambushed in close quarters, but she started calling out, "Oliver! Phobos!" The bright morning light drowned out any light that Oliver's flame would give off, and for all she knew, Phobos was hiding in the shadows. She stopped as she tried to recall where they said they were going; it wasn't anywhere far from the building. She then flew around the outside of the house while still calling their names before finally spotting them in the backyard. Her wings couldn't move fast enough before she was floating in front of them, staring them up and down, and asking, "What happened? Are you alright?" As she waited for their answers, she satisfied herself with their physical well being and then shifted her gaze back to their surroundings. Whatever had scared Shadowmere might still be around.

The crash has him jumping, a white hot needle of fear stabbing into his chest as he stares with wide eyed, stupid terror in the direction of the sound, body already beginning to react on its own as he ducks into a frightened crouch and takes a few steps back, tail flame heating up.  What what what?   He feels Phobos's eyes on him with the same question and has no answer for him.  

Whatever it is it can't be good it can't be-

Wait, is that-

A voice is yelling a name, and the voice is Isolde's and the name is Shadowmere's and oh no oh no what's happening what-

He moves back, waving Phobos behind him, limbs trembling as he struggles to heat himself up enough for a flamethrower if necessary.

"Oliver! Phobos!" He jerks as Isolde comes flying out of the door, white wings suddenly in his face as the panicking bug flutters up to them.  "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Ye-yeah what- what ha-happened?  Where's S-Shadowmere is- is she o-okay!?"

 
Of course neither of them have answers. Phobos has no idea what is going on, how can he expect Oliver to miraculously have any knowledge? He hates cowering behind Oliver like some scared little kid; after all, they're supposed to help each other, right? But that doesn't matter, not when they don't know what happened to Shadowmere, what is going on-
 
"Oliver! Phobos!" If it was possible for Phobos to be 'scared out of his skin', this would've been the perfect opportunity. He stares with fearful eyes in the direction of Isolde's voice; thank Uxie she's okay! When Isolde finally shows up in person, her wings are flared up in obvious anxiety (or, that's what Phobos can assume). Did she know what went on? She doesn't look hurt, which is the one bright patch in this mess of confusion and fear.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"Um-yes," Phobos answers, unsure of what else to say. Neither he nor Oliver saw what had happened, both of them were in the dark. They'd only heard Isolde's shout, and heard the crash before then. There are no answers they can give; Phobos isn't even one hundred percent certain that he's really okay.

"Ye-yeah what- what ha-happened?  Where's S-Shadowmere is- is she o-okay!?" Phobos can't add anything that hasn't already been asked. He can only look to Isolde and hope for some sort of answer. Please don't let it be his fault, please don't let it be his fault...if his Hypnosis was the reason for this, how could he ever forgive himself?

Oliver and Phobos were huddled in fear, but they didn't appear to be harmed. Phobos' answer was brief, but it still gave her relief to hear it, "Um-yes." She gave them one last once over before completely shifting her gaze to their surroundings. While she had been in the house briefly, she hadn't seen enough to know if what had scared Shadowmere was still inside. She felt a large pang of guilt as she realized that the hound had been alone and asleep for whatever had happened. It was her fault for not knowing how best to handle it. And on top of that, Shadowmere had been running far too fast for her to even think about catching up to her, and unless some miracle happened... it was highly unlikely that they would see her again.

Any further thoughts of failure and inadequacies were forced out by the present. Oliver's panicked voice snapped her to attention back to them,  "Ye-yeah what- what ha-happened?  Where's S-Shadowmere is- is she o-okay!?" She really wished that she had a good answer for them, but she didn't. Lying was out of the question; hiding what little she knew could cause problems.

She shook her head gravely, "I don't know. She ran out of the house and past me... I tried calling her name, but it was like she couldn't hear me. Some thing must have scared her horribly. I don't think she even noticed the two strangers, and one of them was hard to miss..."

For a moment it looks as if Isolde is going to hold off on answering, or maybe lie.  There's a bit of shiftiness to her eyes that he recognizes easily, the look someone has when running lightning quick calculations in their head about the best course of action, the best thing they could say.

The moment passes and Isolde slowly shakes her head, her voice somber.  "I don't know. She ran out of the house and past me... I tried calling her name, but it was like she couldn't hear me."  He feels the reality of the situation rush through him, crashing over him like a wave, leaving his body turning first hot from shock and then icy with terror.  He's sure it reflects on his face, too; he slept well the night before, better than he had in a long time, but one good night's sleep can't cure his unrelenting mental exhaustion.  There's simply no energy to mask his fear and his grief.  "Some thing must have scared her horribly. I don't think she even noticed the two strangers, and one of them was hard to miss..."

"Oh no oh no oh no-"  He wrings his hands and leans to the side to look around her, as if he could somehow see the path Shadowmere had taken in her terrified flight and would see the hound, now.  "We- we have to- to f-find her- can't- can't we f-follow the tr-trail?"  He breaks his gaze from the doorway leading into the house Shadowmere had taken flight from to look pleadingly at their leader.  "M-maybe she'll stop r-running soon and we could c-catch up?"

He hadn't known her long, but she's gone.  Just like that, she's gone, and iron bands of terror and sorrow squeeze his chest.  This is the second time in this group.  The second time.  The third group, he's known them for maybe a day, and already their number is down by two.

Arceus please, please stop giving him people only to take them away...

Isolde's answer is the last thing Phobos wants to hear. "I don't know. She ran out of the house and past me... I tried calling her name, but it was like she couldn't hear me. Some thing must have scared her horribly. I don't think she even noticed the two strangers, and one of them was hard to miss..." Scared her? Phobos wonders if his Hypnosis had somehow caused her to become frightened even further than she'd already been. But how could that be possible? Shadowmere had been sleeping peacefully the last time he saw her...it didn't make any sense.

Oliver is distraught, looking around Isolde as if he expects to see Shadowmere running back to them, no longer terrified; if only things could return to normal that quickly. "We- we have to- to f-find her- can't- can't we f-follow the tr-trail?" Phobos keeps his mouth shut, unable to voice what he is thinking-they're never going to see Shadowmere again. He only knew her for a short time, but she'd been nice, and it could very well be his fault that she is gone. Nobody here knew what the consequences of a novice using Hypnosis could be; for all Phobos knew, unprovoked fear could be one of them. "M-maybe she'll stop r-running soon and we could c-catch up?"

Guilt prevents him from speaking up, Phobos casting his gaze to the ground. His fault...but as soon as the regretful thought arrives, another soon accompanies it. He thinks back to what Isolde told them, something about two strangers being hard to miss. How could he have glazed over something like that so quickly? Isolde outright mentioned there are new people here, ones she doesn't recognize, and somehow he failed to even take notice until now. Thank Uxie she spoke in the plural, though; it isn't like Deimos to travel with another. Even so, he has to know more.

"Wait," the ghost says, looking up at Isolde, "You-you said something about strangers?"

Oliver's face dropped, and he began to wring his hands together as he muttered, "Oh no oh no oh no-" He tried to peek around her as he pleaded, "We- we have to- to f-find her- can't- can't we f-follow the tr-trail? M-maybe she'll stop r-running soon and we could c-catch up?" Guilt continued to well up inside her as she took in his grief; the group they had started with was completely gone except for each other. They had lost Sukoshi, puppy Oliver, and now Shadowmere. A quiet voice whispered that this was all her fault; her mere existence drove people apart. How much longer would it be before even these two children left? Or would it be better if she took her leave before something happened to them because of her?

Defeated, she admitted, "I'm... I'm sorry... I don't think we can..." Shadowmere was running so fast, and she flew the opposite way.

Phobos had caught the tail end of her information drop and asked, "Wait. You-you said something about strangers?" His small voice shook her out of despair again as she recollected her thoughts. The two Pokemon she had met on the path weren't species she was familiar with, but maybe a vague description would suffice.

"Yes. A... large blue Pokemon with orange... things on the side of his face," she began and vaguely gestured to indicate what she was talking about. "And a small darker blue bird with red and white markings... She sounded really young..." Given the larger Pokemon's hesitance to stick around, she was wondering if he would even still be there given what just occurred. "The big one... didn't act like he wanted to stay, though... so they might not even still be there after..." She let the words trail off as she simply implied Shadowmere's flight.

"I'm... I'm sorry... I don't think we can..."  He scrubs fists into his eyes, shoulders hunching as he sniffs.  Well... that's that, then, he supposes...

"Wait," Phobos speaks up, his little voice sending cold shooting from Oliver's chest right down to his toes as the sound of Phobos's fear reminds him there was more to Isolde's report than just Shadowmere's departure. "You-you said something about strangers?"

Strangers.

Oh god.

"Yes. A... large blue Pokemon with orange... things on the side of his face," she says, gesturing to try to approximate what she saw.  Oliver's eyes grow wider and his face more drawn with each word, hands clenched in his scarf. "And a small darker blue bird with red and white markings... She sounded really young... The big one... didn't act like he wanted to stay, though... so they might not even still be there after..."

"Swampert," he breathes.  "Th-the big blue pokem-mon is a Sw-Swampert.  H-huge, muscled, water and ground t-types who can breathe air and underw-water."  He swallows, eyes darting once again around Isolde and towards the back door.  "He- he had a k-kid with h-him so ma-maybe if he is st-still there he's f-friendly...?"

If he's a twitchy paranoia, though, they're screwed.  His eyes snap from the doorway to Isolde, pleading for advice.  Do they stay here in the backyard for awhile?  Flee?  Hide in the house?  Go see if he's still there and try to make friends?

"Yes. A... large blue Pokemon with orange... things on the side of his face," Isolde begins to explain, "And a small darker blue bird with red and white markings... She sounded really young..." Phobos can only give a blank stare in response; he's never seen anything close to what she's talking about, or heard of this blue-orange...creature. At least birds are easier. They're the ones that fly, right? His curiosity feels rather small under the weight of anxious uncertainty, so Phobos doesn't speak up to ask.

"The big one... didn't act like he wanted to stay, though... so they might not even still be there after..." Shadowmere's disappearance goes unsaid, but it lingers there among them. If Phobos hadn't known about those strangers, he might've let his misty form drift apart a bit. Or maybe entirely. He still can't shake off the idea that her running away was his fault...

"Swampert." Phobos looks at Oliver in slight surprise; he knew the other Pokemon is full of knowledge the rest of them don't have, but what in the world is a Swampert? Swamp-ert. Nope, doesn't ring any bells.  "Th-the big blue pokem-mon is a Sw-Swampert.  H-huge, muscled, water and ground t-types who can breathe air and underw-water." Phobos doesn't respond, in awe of Oliver's ability to figure something out with such a limited description. The ghost feels a pang of envy; if only he could be that smart and quick-thinking! Though, admittedly, Phobos really doesn't like the idea of a huge, scary Pokemon wandering willy-nilly around their place. What if he tried taking it from them, or worse, attacked them outright?

No, wait, Isolde said something about how he didn't want to stay. Whew. That's a relief. Their place would stay their place and everything would be alright...except for the fact that Shadowmere is gone.

"He- he had a k-kid with h-him so ma-maybe if he is st-still there he's f-friendly...?" Phobos wants to say something, but he doesn't know what. Why didn't he know what to say? Oliver makes a good point, but the ghost is hesitant to completely agree with the sentiment. People are unpredictable. You never know what they'll do to try and hurt you, even if you think you're safe. And maybe having a kid around would make this stranger even more inclined to hurt them. Phobos didn't know, and he can't think of a way to voice his fears without freaking everyone out even more.

Oliver and Phobos appeared nervous at her description of the newcomers, but Oliver surprised her by recognizing the species based on a very vague description. He quietly stated, "Swampert. Th-the big blue pokem-mon is a Sw-Swampert.  H-huge, muscled, water and ground t-types who can breathe air and underw-water." Yeah... That sounded about right. She wouldn't have pegged it for being a ground type, but then again, it was walking around on land. She would have to take Oliver for his word there. He was definitely more well-versed about the world than she was. He then asked, "He- he had a k-kid with h-him so ma-maybe if he is st-still there he's f-friendly...?" That was possible... but parents with children were considered incredibly dangerous. The things some Pokemon would do to protect their young...

She noticed that Oliver was looking at her questioningly, and Phobos had fallen quiet. It took her far too long to realize that they were waiting on her call, and it suddenly hit her that she was the only adult left to look out for these children. Even if Shadowmere had been quiet, the hound had been a calming presence most of the time. There hadn't been much time before to even think about this, and they had easy to manage goals. It hadn't occurred to her that she would have to be the one calling the shots from here on out. She had to make a decision, and depending on her judgement, they could survive or die. Making the decision for herself was easy; not so much when other people were counting on her.

Isolde had to focus, so she started with Oliver's question, "Maybe... But if he's her father, then parents often do... almost anything for their children." So, what do they do now? Hide and hope he didn't try to hunt her down? Seek them out again to see if they'd be willing to join their small group? She didn't know if they had enough to offer the strong looking Pokemon that would make him consider it, and he could decide to just take it. It's not like they'd be able to fight him off if he took that option... The morning mist was fading, and with that, their chances of sneaking back unnoticed were disappearing. She wasn't sure if the large creature had seen her check out this house specifically, but maybe he wouldn't have seen her come back. She had to hope so. Decision made, she spoke urgently, "For now... Let's hide. I'm not sure if I trust them yet." With that, she flew to the back door and fiddled with the handle, and she managed to successfully pull the door open. She waited until the other two were inside before closing it.

"Maybe... But if he's her father, then parents often do... almost anything for their children."  

He opens his mouth to add not all parents and shudders, closing it again as he remembers that this one is an adoptive parent.  Swamperts can't legitimately produce birds.  There's no obligation of blood here; parenting the bird is a choice, and having made that choice...

Well.  He's not going to simply give up against something he believes is a threat.  Although he'd be hardpressed to call one adult butterfly and two kids a threat, who knows?

Who knows.

People are insane nowadays.

"For now... Let's hide. I'm not sure if I trust them yet," their leader decides, floating back towards the backdoor and opening it as the chimp follows behind her, scenting the air.  At her nonverbal command, Oliver gives up on trying to catch a sign of any intrudes, crouching nervously and glancing around as he crawls in.

Though she didn't say where to go, he finds himself heading to the child's room as if on autopilot.  Maybe it was the familiarity of it all that made him feel safe; he can't say.  But it's not long before he pushes the room open gently with his shoulder and steps in, trying to calm his light tremors.

It makes no sense for the Swampert to return and cause any trouble, right?  He'll just move on, right?

God, was life ever determined to remind him how frightening it could be, dealing with fellow survivors.