The FALLARBOR Team (PLOT)

"Whose bright idea was this, again?  Where the hell even are we?"  

"Yours, actually."

"Wait what?"  

"Weren't you the one who wanted to go investigate the volcano?"

"No, that was King!"  

"I distinctly remember you saying you wanted to check out the volcano."

"And you thought the ashes falling in the distance meant we should head that way to get closer."

"And now we're lost"

"We're not lost. We're... uh... in the shadow of the volcano, yeah."  

"And where is that, exactly?"

"Near, um... what's it called... that town... nice little town... a city maybe-- oh what does it matter? Seriously! It's the end of the world; it's not like we're looking for a town, 'cause there'd be no people in it anyway!"  

"Guys, I have a headache," the human grumbles to her Pokemon companions. The Chimchar on her shoulder sticks his tongue out at the Lucario and Gardevoir picking their way through the ash-brushed grasses.

"Yeah guys, cool it; she's not feeling well."  

"That means you need to be quiet too, buddy." Her finger pokes his side, and he sulks.

So much for some friendly banter cheering her up.

"Ah... well... maybe you should lie down for a while. Y'know. See if that'll help your head."  

"I dunno if that'll help without shelter, Flame..."

"Maybe there's somewhere we can hide for a bit... even a thick patch of trees would work..."

"I don't see any that are close together enough to keep the ashes off," the Gardevoir murmurs, glancing around.

"Yeah, me neither-- hold up." The Lucario halts, eyes wide as he glances around.

"Uh... Matti?"  

"Mattimeo, something wrong...?" Sara-Anne's fingers curl into trembling fists, which then relax into hands and grip her arms.

"I sense... something. An aura. Definitely an aura, and it's not red, so not infect-- that's a human aura." His eyes widen in shock. "Guys, that's a human aura."

"Should we go check it out...?" The fairy is wringing her dress, chewing on her lip. "It didn't end so badly last time; we could get lucky again..."

"I mean, between me, Matti, and Joy, we could take out any squishy human that tries attacking..."  

"There's more." Joy is staring at Mattimeo, who winces.  "We both know that."

"... I think this human's injured. That aura doesn't look so hot." The Lucario watches helplessly as his human flinches.

"We'll g-get c-closer," she decides with a shaking voice. "So that one of y-you guys can s-scout it out.  And if it's t-too dangerous, we'll just r-run."

The pain in her head worsens and her stomach twists. She should be running to the rescue--Mattimeo said the human was injured; they're not faking it. She should want to help, but instead worries about supplies and the still lingering threat of danger whirl in her mind. Humans are supposed to help other humans; why is she so reluctant...?

"L-let's g-go.  Matti, lead the w-way." Mattimeo nods and turns a sharp left, at first keeping a brisk pace but then slowing his steps for his human's benefit. Flame leaps from her shoulder to land on Joy's, trying to scent the air and growling as all that reaches him is the smell of ashes.

I guess this was a pretty stupid idea after all...  

Several minutes later, Mattimeo spots red and blue through the trees, pointing the human out. "There." Sara-Anne chews on her lip.

Should they approach...?

There had been flashes of wings and fire, of fangs, claws and scales everywhere. A miasma of blood and bone, a whirling, spinning tornado of confusion and danger had captured him and his team. Dozens, hundreds of hungry maws stretched for him and his pokemon, all ravenous, all deadly. There hadn't been escape. No escape, except straight down. To fall.

Lance had always been an accomplished flyer, but this had been a different experience all together. Returning his mounts mid-flight to keep them safe from the jaws of another giant looming behemoth, then summoning another one below to catch him before he fell too far was the only answer he'd been able to procure. It had, shockingly, worked for a time before the last summon of his Noivern proved a mistake; the dragon tripped over the canopy below and sent them both crashing into the ashen wood. Now, Lance could only lay as the volcanic dust covered him and his downed Noivern like snow, the last of the flock dying to his Dragonite's fists and wings.

How long ago had that been? Minutes? Hours? Days, even? He didn't know; the Dragon Master was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was on the ground as he came to. A sharp, overwhelming pain nearly took the breath out of him then and there, his leg, sides and arm throbbing in a way he hadn't felt in years. Probably broken... Fuck...

He could see now that he'd gotten caught on some errant tree limbs in his fall. They were scattered around and underneath him, threatening to tangle his limbs as he tried to maneuver into a better position. Struggling to reach with his good hand to check his leg, movement ahead caught his attention. His foggy mind immediately went to the small pool of blood beneath him and its scent, as well as what it would attract. He quickly returned his still unconscious Noivern and felt for his Tyrantrum. He knew the large dinosaur was the last line of defense while Dragonite was still aloft. The others, unfortunately, were exhausted from the flight from Kanto as well as the fight.

Adrenaline pumping, Lance forced himself up, struggling past the nearly blinding pain from his arm and leg and standing with the help of a nearby tree. He glanced down to look at his hurt leg; the armor was heavily bent inward, where he knew it bit into the skin and likely bone. That explained the pain, at least. His arm, however, looked to only be dislocated, so... that was better? Panting hard from the effort and in a bid to ignore the pain, he stared hard at the figures moving in between the trees, praying he'd have the strength to fend anything hostile off. His good hand stayed on Tyrantrum's ball, ready to call him.

He's moving.

The figure stands--a man, she assumes by his height, and oh dear sweet Arceus that's a lot of height--with the help of a tree.  He surveys the leg he isn't favoring, and her eyes grow wide as they take in his clothing.  He looks like he just stepped out of a fucking RPG fantasy game; a long, flowing (though torn) cape, item pouches along a belt, and gray armor; a breastplate, a gauntlet, a shoulder... pad?  Whatever the fuck those are called.  And shin guards.  Oh my god he has ARMOR and he's like a foot taller than me oh god what do I do!?

If he's got armor, if he's this well prepared, he definitely has a fucking weapon.  Somewhere.  Her heart nearly stops as he glances up, glaring through the trees.  

"He's glaring, oh god, he's glaring death at me," she whimpers nearly too quietly to be heard, and doesn't realize she said anything aloud until Joy, shaking under the weight of her terror, points out the obvious.  "No, he's just trying to see things.  See?  He's squinting, honey, not glaring."

"I... I don't think silver is his fur color.  Hair color.  Whatever."  Flame climbs up his human's body to take his customary place at her shoulder.  "I think that's literally all ash.  Look at him; he's like... coated in it."

"He must have been lying there for a long time," murmurs the Lucario, sympathy evident in his eyes.  

It turns out the somewhere a weapon would be stashed is a lot closer than Sara-Anne thought.  Large brown eyes peeking from the close knit trees spent the time her friends tried consoling her searching for a flash of silver, or a sudden movement of black or wood.  But the man doesn't need a gun or a knife; he brought better as his first line of defense.  The round white and red object makes her gasp, her Pokemon following suit as soon as they spot what their trainer had.

Regardless of whether or not he means harm, that Pokeball cannot be allowed to open.  The risk is far too great.

An entire conversation passes in silence through glances between the Pokemon, and before Sara-Anne can make a sound, Mattimeo steps out, arms up and palms out.  

"Hey, whoa, hey!  Nobody wants to fight.  I saw an injured human aura and we just wanted to check on you.  Your leg looks pretty bad; do you want our help?  My human is nearby and can offer assistance but she won't come out if you have something she can skew as a weapon out.  She's a lot smaller than you; she's not gonna hurt you and kind of... can't."

Sara-Anne's shaking fingers tighten on the hem of her black sweater.  Oh god.  Matti.  What are you doing.

Yes, there was definitely something there in the trees, and it wasn't strange hallucinations brought on by blood loss. Voices drifted in and out of his consciousness, voices that were surely there. Probably. Most likely. Yeah.

Lance panted heavily as he stood against that tree, the feeling of warm blood trickling down his bad leg and side constantly distracting him from deciphering just who was spying on him. His eyes narrowed into a squint, he had to keep blinking away the ash in order to keep seeing, which was difficult since his vision kept blurring. His good hand gripped his Tyrantrum's pokeball tighter as he realized that he felt blood trickling down his neck too. On top of everything else, he likely had a concussion, too. Shit.

But soon enough, there was movement once more, causing the dragon master to flinch back to reality as he tried to forcefully blink his vision back to normal. Out stepped a Lucario, a formidable enough pokemon with a dual typing that spelt out danger for his Tyrantrum. He had no idea what level the pokemon would be at, but at the moment, Lance didn't have much capacity for strategy. Thankfully, it seemed the creature just wanted to talk.

"Hey, whoa, hey!" it began, and Lance was quietly grateful that of all the things of his that broke in the fall, his communicator had not. "Nobody wants to fight.  I saw an injured human aura and we just wanted to check on you.  Your leg looks pretty bad; do you want our help?  My human is nearby and can offer assistance but she won't come out if you have something she can skew as a weapon out.  She's a lot smaller than you; she's not gonna hurt you and kind of... can't."

Lance scoffed at the idea of someone completely harmless roaming the wilds, spitting out a small amount of blood in the process. "If... your trainer... were so... helpless," he began in between heavy breaths. Jesus, breathing was hard. "...then she... wouldn't have... made it this far, would she?" He shook his head, dislodging some ash to reveal angry auburn locks. He spit out blood and drool as he continued to struggle to breathe, the pain washing over him with each agonizing breath. Every second made it worse. "No... I won't be made... even more defenseless..." Suddenly, his head swam with vertigo, catching him off guard. With nothing to stabilize him, Lance nearly doubled over and lost his delicate balance only to just manage to push himself back against the tree. Using his renewed vigor, he stared back at the Lucario defiantly, turning his attention to the figure still in the trees.

"Stop slithering in the shadows and... face me like a fucking adult," he barked, blinking back the darkness at the edge of his vision. He couldn't stop now, not when so many people depended on him. He couldn't die here by some rogue... He had to get to Evergrande. He swallowed hard against the metallic taste overwhelming his mouth and his furious eyes turned back to the Lucario, his grip on Tyrantrum's ball tightening again. "I will... not... be... mugged by... by--" His body lurched again, blood and bile scratching at his throat as he coughed it up. He wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer... Not like this.

Mattimeo watches as Sara-Anne's aura shrinks back against the trees, a pang in his heart as he watches it become frantic and messy when the stranger speaks.  "If... your trainer... were so... helpless ...then she... wouldn't have... made it this far, would she?"  His breaths are slow and labored, strain evident in every feature of his face and body language.

His aura screams pain and fear, a deep willed determination to survive, and growing anger.  His bite, the canine is aware, is currently worse than his bark.  As long as that pokemon stays in the ball, that is.  

Sara-Anne watches as he shakes his head, some of the ashes flinging loose from his hair-- red hair, bright and fiery.  "No... I won't be made... even more defenseless..."  He spits red, and her stomach turns.  Defenseless...  She hadn't thought of it like that, of just how utterly helpless he was.  And still is.  He... looks really bad off...  As if to confirm that he nearly topples over, only just barely hanging onto the tree.  Mattimeo strode forward, prepared to catch him before he could fall, but stopped and moved back when he remained upright, sharp eyes watching for another potential collapse.

"Stop slithering in the shadows and... face me like a fucking adult," the man growls, blinking hard.  Is he going to pass out...?  The fire in his eyes has grown hotter.  He's angrier.  The cruel words make her shrink back.

"I will... not... be... mugged by... by--"  He nearly falls again.  No... she can't watch this anymore.  Making a decision, she steps out from the trees, her Chimchar diving from her shoulder to walk at her side, near her legs, warily watching the human.

"I'm not a thief," she mumbles. "I don't wanna fight.  Not gonna mug you."  

"We wanna help," adds the monkey, "but we'll fight back if your Pokemon attacks."

"Heal Pulse would be helpful right now.  If we ever meet someone who can reteach me moves, I really ought to pick that one back up..."  Joy glances behind them as if checking to ensure they are still safe.  So far, nothing.

"We don't mean you any harm.  We're offering help.  You gonna accept it?"

Suddenly, more movement. Bright, golden eyes snapped up to see the shape in the trees finally shift to reveal itself; the Lucario's trainer, a chimchar at her feet. The sight of the unevolved pokemon confused Lance-- perhaps she wasn't as accomplished of a trainer as he'd thought? It explained all the cloak and dagger. But power mattered little when his vision swam and his leg trembled and threatened to collapse. A good breeze would win against him now.

And what was worse was that everyone knew it.

His eyes darted as each, pokemon and trainer, spoke in rapid succession. "I'm not a thief," the girl mumbled; Lance barely heard her words. "I don't wanna fight. Not gonna mug you."

"We wanna help," added the small monkey. The dragon master swallowed against the lump in his throat as he eyed the pokemon. "but we'll fight back if your Pokemon attacks."

"Heal Pulse would be helpful right now. If we ever meet someone who can reteach me moves, I really ought to pick that one back up..." Gardevoir. A pokemon that could single-handedly destroy each of his fatigued team even if she were twenty levels below them. His eyes widened with alarm, but was masked through the pain and anger already on his face, coming out more of a snarl than anything else. He couldn't let that pokemon near any of his team. Subconsciously, he clutched his Tyrantrum's ball closer to his body.

"We don't mean you any harm. We're offering help. You gonna accept it?"

"Don't you?" Lance snapped back, his voice crackling with the blood settling on his vocal cords. It was getting worse. Shit. He coughed and spat once more, his breathing becoming shorter and more ragged as the adrenaline began to wear off. His ribs were hurting more now. Shit, shit. "What gain do-do you get from..." Oh God, the nausea, the pain. His leg threatened to collapse, but he rode through it, once more fixating his furious gaze upon the trainer. "What could you possibly g-get from helping me?" he finished through clenched teeth. "The only 'help' you'll give me is... help to the grave!"

"Don't you?"  The man's response to Mattimeo's calm question is immediate and snappish, but it cracks.  Another second later he's forced to spit, and the blood churns Sara-Anne's stomach.  

Now that she's right there, the red is everywhere oh dear gods.

His breathing grows more unsteady, more ragged, and his face is contorted in pain.  "What gain do-do you get from..."  His gaze drops for a moment, then his eyes squeeze shut, and then they're open again, glaring at her and spitting out the rest of his thought.  "What could you possibly g-get from helping me?  The only 'help' you'll give me is... help to the grave!"

"N-no," she whispers, shrinking back anyway. "I-I'm not-- I just want to help-- I can't kill anyone; I'm sick enough looking at the blood as it is--!"

"Sir, stop."  Joy is withering beneath the humans' fear, but she grits her teeth and grinds out what she needs to say.  "We want to help because we're all sentient here and we all have a moral code.  No one's going to kill you."

"So help me though, if you try anything, you're gonna regret it." Flame's tail fire heats up, the crackling fire fanning upwards and outwards a little.

"Flame, shh."  Turning his head back to Lance, he adds, You're in no condition to do anything, a'right?  Just... just sit down.  We have bandages.  We can help with your arm-- well, so long as it's dislocated, anyway.  Not sure if we can make a splint if it's broken...

"Might be able to," Joy mutters.  "There's enough freaking wood around."

"N-no," the girl whimpered with fear, backing away from Lance's stand. She was pale, perhaps at the sight of blood, but Lance didn't much care at this point; he was simply glad to have her not so close. "I-I'm not-- I just want to help-- I can't kill anyone; I'm sick enough looking at the blood as it is--!" Lance weakly scoffed at the sentiment.

"Sir, stop." Furious golden eyes snapped back to the Gardevoir and he bristled in her presence, his mind only able to think of his wrecked pokemon. He could only hope at this point that Noivern was even still alive, much less capable of taking on a healthy Gardevoir. "We want to help because we're all sentient here and we all have a moral code. No one's going to kill you." Right. Sure.

"So help me though, if you try anything, you're gonna regret it." The Chimchar flared its tail in what was likely a warning with its kind, catching the dragon master's attention. He gave the small monkey a stern glare just like the others, lip twitching as it suppressed the urge to snarl again.

"Flame, shh." the Lucario shushed. Odd. Why was the Lucario giving orders? Maybe he was the lead pokemon, like Dragonite was to Lance. It was possible. All his other pokemon followed Dragonite as they followed Lance. You're in no condition to do anything, a'right? Just... just sit down. We have bandages. We can help with your arm-- well, so long as it's dislocated, anyway. Not sure if we can make a splint if it's broken...

"Might be able to," the Gardevoir muttered beneath her breath as Lance stiffened; they were going to try and mend him? Why would they bother wasting precious resources to save him, a hostile stranger? Maybe they knew who he was-- wanted to get information from him. Oh God, did they know where he was going? Where he'd come from? His paranoia spiked as the Gardevoir continued to muse. "There's enough freaking wood around."

"Don't you touch me," Lance barked, putting all his weight against the tree, trying in vain to stay as far away from them as he could. "I--FUCK!" In his anxiousness to get away, he accidentally put weight on his very broken leg, which immediately crumpled beneath him, causing a fall. He landed on the ashen ground with a hard, sick thud, but was still awake nonetheless. For a moment, he nearly blacked out, his vision a laughing mockery of blurs and muted colors. His ears rang and every nerve in his body was on fire. There was so much pain. As his senses returned from the brink of the abyss, he heard himself whimpering with each heavy, struggling breath.

But this would be it-- this would be where the killing blow would be struck. As his panic flared again, he gained a new and likely last rush of adrenaline, using it to slam his bad shoulder into the ground in a bid to reset it. One, two, three, four-- and a sickening snap. Feeling returned to his numbed arm and he immediately went for his machete still nestled on his side, as Tyrantrum was now in as much danger as he. "Stay... away..." he managed with a quivering breath, the tip of the blade shaking with effort.

His reaction to Joy's musings send her jumping and scrambling a little further away from him.  "Don't you touch me!"

"I-I wasn't go-going to--" But to no avail; in full wounded animal mode, he's not capable of listening.  His body leans backwards as he tries harder to put more distance between them, but--

"I--FUCK!

--in staring at them so hard, he fails to notice where his weight is shifting, and sets it all suddenly on the leg he's trying so hard to protect.  The effect is immediate and truthfully pitiful to watch, his leg giving way and sending him crashing to the sparse, ashy grass below, Sara-Anne squeaking in shock.  Mattimeo pitches forward but is too late to catch him, and wary of how the man may react to being moved, he steps back as soon as he steps forward.  

"O-oh, oh no--"  She moves to take a step forward, but Mattimeo reaches out and grabs her arm, staring hard at the long, flat thing against his hip-- a sheathe.

Thankfully Sara-Anne fails to notice this.  Her wide eyes are fixed on the man's face, tearing up as he whimpers in pain.

"Please," the fairy begins, hesitant, "we really do just want to-- what are you doing!"  A collective gasp of shock and fear is stolen from the group as they watch the redhead slam his shoulder into the ground.  Once, twice, three times; on the fourth a disgusting snap rings out and Sara-Anne gags a little, hands over her mouth now.  But there's no time to dwell on that; he reaches for the sheathe and draws his machete, the bottom dropping out of her stomach as he does.

"Stay... away..."

"Fuck it; let's leave.  This guy ain't worth our time." His tail flame flares higher, teeth bared at the dragon tamer.

"Do-don't want to-- he's not-- I mean, he's hurt," she trips over her words, her pale face flushing.  "I-I want to help."

"I don't know if we should..."  

"He's in pain," the Gardevoir added, backing Sara-Anne up.

"I-I'm not leaving him to die.  For all we know a horde could come."

The voices and the shapes were beginning to blend together in a murky grey static as Lance struggled to stay conscious, despite his body very much disagreeing. "Fuck it; let's leave. This guy ain't worth our time." The monkey -at least, once it stopped being a bright blur- was practically snapping at his feet. He gave the small Pokemon no mind, however. He had to keep vigilant. Lance felt his newly set arm burning as he kept Tyrantrum's ball close to his chest with his good arm, unwilling to lower the machete aimed at the girl. He couldn't afford to let it fall.

"Do-don't want to-- he's not-- I mean, he's hurt," she stuttered, tripping over her words as she tried in vain to calm her pokemon down. "I-I want to help."

"I don't know if we should..."

"He's in pain," the Gardevoir spoke again, causing Lance to flinch. The words were beginning to get jumbled in his mind, and every thought felt like walking through quicksand. Everything hurt. Everything burned. The throbbing pain was so overwhelming, he couldn't even think of words to say to the girl anymore. And he was so tired... so fucking tired...

"I-I'm not leaving him to die. For all we know a horde could come." Horde... His muddled mind went to his Dragonite, who was likely still fighting off the horde that had landed them here. Worry crossed his features as he found himself staring upward, trying to gain a glimpse of yellow through the trees. Arthur... Vertigo overtook him once more as he stared up at the sky, losing his precarious balance on his arm and fell backward, dropping the machete to the ash-coated ground. His Tyrantrum's pokeball rolled gently from his slackened grip, but he didn't seem to notice. Finally fully on the ground, he succumbed to the blackened edges of his vision, falling deep into unconsciousness.

She's not really sure if the man heard her--he's staring at the sky, worry creasing his face further as his eyes dart around.  

What is he looking for?

"U-um..."

Is he even capable of understanding anything anymore?  At all?  His eyes look a lot more unfocused and she's got zero medical training--a pang of agony for Lynn flashes through her, ow--but even an untrained eye can see he's ready to pass out.

And then he does, the machete falling from his grip and his Pokeball rolling away.  Sara-Anne picks it wordlessly up, walking forward to carefully stow it in one of the pouches.

Now what?

"We don't really have any water to spare to clean his wounds..."

"Ah shit; and we need to because of all the ash..."

"I-I think the w-worst injuries are h-his leg and arm..." She kneels down with a swallow.  Ay, how to go about this...

"So do we just... take his shirt off?"  

"Gotta take a look to see how banged up he is somehow," Flame points out.

"We need to remove the armor first..."

"M-maybe we should st-start with just moving him someplace else..."  There was supposed to be a town somewhere around here; even just a roof over their heads would help with this mess.  Chewing on her lip, she draws Quake's Pokeball from her pocket, thumbing it to enlargen the ball, ready to release the grass dinosaur to help.  It'd be far easier to place the man on Quake's back than to ask Mattimeo or Joy to carry him.

Arthur raced through the sky, the remnants of the horde that had so brutally torn through his teammates and trainer still on his tail. He had seen Lance and Lucan taking their fall some time ago, and the fact that they hadn't resurfaced worried Arthur. Taking a glance at the mass of flapping wings and hungry maws at his back, he steeled himself for one last bout of attacks. He needed to end this and find Lance-- his gut knew that his trainer's absence, as well as all his teammates' absence, was significant and ominous. He pushed himself faster, if only to gain a wider window between himself and his pursuers to then about-face, speeding at them head-on. The mindless beasts seemed overjoyed at the sight, pushing their own bodies forward as well to greet him.

Taking in a steadying breath, Arthur knew this was a risky move; though the wind displacement of the attack should knock anything grabbing for him aside, it was obvious, especially in this day and age, that not everything went according to plan. He could come out injured or worse-- infected. But his stamina was waning and now panic had begun to taint his resolve. He needed to end this. Now.

With one last Dragon Dance to boost his attack and speed quickly made, he charged forward as his wings began to glow a glimmering silver. In a blur of movement, he cut through the horde at a blinding speed, rendering the soft, rotten flesh from its host, then banked and went at the horde again. He made at least a dozen fly-bys, exhausting his pool of Steel Wing moves. The dead dropped from the sky in pieces and soon, there was only a single Pidgeot left, struggling as its cut feathers barely held it aloft. Good. Once more, Arthur charged forward and his clawed hand curled into a fist, the Thunder Punch hitting true as the charged up attack left the bird little more than charred jerky. For a small moment, there was peace; the sky was empty, save for himself. A quick glance-over of his own body produced even more good news: no wounds. An actual victory, then.

Panting, his eyes scanned the forest below as his mind went back to his downed trainer and comrade. Pumping his exhausted wings once more, his panic aiding him, he spotted a dent in the canopy; broken limbs and wrecked trees formed a neat line. There. That had to be it. Banking quickly, Arthur sped forward to see his trainer lying postrate, unconscious or worse, with a group of Pokémon and their trainer standing over him. Immediately, he sprang forward, the air around him cracking with power, forgetting he was nearly out of actual attacking moves. It didn't matter. He wouldn't let anything else happen to Lance if he could help it. He'd use his bare face if he had to.

He landed before them in a flash on all fours, placing himself over Lance's body, glaring up at them wide-eyed, alert. Beneath him in the silence, he heard Lance's faint, crackled breathing and couldn't help but sigh lightly in relief: heavily wounded, but alive. Seeing as how they hadn't already taken his armor and supplies, Arthur considered perhaps they weren't scavengers after all, which had been their experience so far of the out-lying trainers. Lance's machete was out of its sheath, near his limp hand. He'd tried defending himself, then, but his trainer likely was more feral with all of his wounds. Fear saturated the air around them: wounded and scared, Lance likely tried his hand at intimidation before falling unconscious. Sounded right. Whether or not Lance had actual cause to be so defensive remained to be seen. Arthur's sharp eyes soon spotted the Communicator on the girl, which gave him a little more relief: at least there wouldn't be a language barrier.

"Who are you...?" he asked quietly, watching each carefully in turn, taking the machete and placing it carefully and slowly into its sheath, still over his wounded trainer.

Nobody expects the dragon.

The Dragonite dives out of the sky, not quite like an avenging angel but close enough to it to prompt a scream from Sara-Anne as she stumbles back and falls, scrambling to scoot away from the enormous creature as he leans over his human's body.  

That's it we're gonna die.  This is how it ends.  She raises an arm instinctively, her other three Pokemon charging attacks but not daring to step closer lest they prompt the dragon to kill their trainer.

"Who are you...?"

What.

She lowers an arm.

He's just... watching them.

"U-um..."  She swallows.  "I-I..."

Mattimeo eases out of his attack stance.  "She's Sara-Anne; I'm Mattimeo, that's Flame, and that's Joy," he says, pointing to each one.  "We're not anyone special-- just survivors.  We came over because I can see auras, and I saw your human's.  We haven't seen a human in a long while, and that aura told me he was injured, so we thought we'd just come and check."  

"And your trainer flipped his lid a little.  Thought we were gonna mug him."  Flame shrugs.  "I mean I guess I can understand that, since not all human survivors are friendly, but he scared my girl."  

"Flame shush.  He was afraid, too."  Joy runs a hand through her hair.  "I'm sorry we scared him.  We really did just want to help."  

"Th-there's... um... we're lost but-- I remember around here there's a ci-- I mean."  Deep breath in and a breath out.  "I remember there's a town around here somewhere, but we don't know where.  Um, if we can move your human there, we have bandages for him.  I'm not... really good with human medicine but... at least we can do that much for him.  And maybe... make a splint...?"

Arthur obviously frightened the trainer, but he didn't care too much, not when his own trainer's life was in jeopardy. "U-um..." The girl trembled before him, tripping over her words. "I-I..."

The Lucario is the first to really speak, easing out of his battle stance to something more calm. It was progress. "She's Sara-Anne; I'm Mattimeo, that's Flame, and tha'ts Joy," Arthur's eyes followed each in turn before returning back to the Lucario. Mattimeo. "We're not anyone special-- just survivors. We came over because I can see auras, and I saw your human's. We haven't seen a human in a long while, and that aura told me he was injured, so we thought we'd just come and check."

"And your trainer flipped his lid a little. Thought we were gonna mug him." Yeah, that sounded correct. "I mean I guess I can understand that, since not all human survivors are friendly, but he scared my girl." Arthur snorted at the sentiment; he didn't care for the small monkey's bravado, but he supposed he was grateful they didn't outright attack Lance.

"Flame shush. He was afraid, too." The Gardevoir seemed to have some sense about her, to which Arthur was grateful. She was the voice of reason, then, along with Mattimeo. It felt odd to see the Pokemon have so much control over the situation instead of the trainer; he didn't see that often outside the Plateau. "I'm sorry we scared him. We really did just want to help." Arthur nodded, but remained silent.

"Th-there's... um... we're lost but-- I remember around here there's a ci-- I mean." The girl had to steady herself, breathing forcefully even before continuing. "I remember there's a town around here somewhere, but we don't know where. Um, if we can move your human there, we have bandages for him. I'm not... really good with human medicine but... at least we can do that much for him. And maybe... make a splint...?"

Arthur rose from his crouch over Lance, studying the others a moment before uttering, "I believe you." He stretched to his full height and turned to look back down at his wounded trainer, studying what wounds he could see. The haggard breathing likely meant broken ribs, maybe fluid beginning to pool in the lungs. That was bad, if that was the case. The most obvious was his bleeding leg, smashed with shrapnel from the ruined greave. Very broken. Arthur could even spot a piece of bone poking out from the metal. This was a wound for professionals, unfortunately, and likely wouldn't be healed until they made the trip back home. "We need to get him somewhere safe, somewhere I can get the armor off and see what the damage is. We have some medical supplies as well, but..." He looked down at his large, taloned hands before looking to the others. "...I lack the proper hands."

Reaching down to glance over Lance's belt, Arthur grabbed a pokeball before turning to the others. "My comrade will be able to carry my trainer much better than I or any of you, as well as the rest of us. I'm... fairly exhausted, and I'm sure all of you would prefer to conserve any energy you have to fight off anything my trainer's crash may have attracted." Tossing the pokeball to land in the empty space beside the group, Tyrantrum materialized, massive and intimidating. He growled upon spotting Lance's unconscious form, but Arthur held up a hand, saying simply, "They're helping us." Though Tyrantrum was obviously still distraught, he stayed relatively calm. Arthur turned to the others before going to Lance, standing over him. "Help me pick him up; we'll put him on the Tyrantrum, and then all get on board. You'll direct him," Arthur nodded to the girl, "to the city. Is that agreed?"

When the dragon rears up, her stomach lurches.  If her muscles didn't freeze up, she would have stepped back.

But what he has to say is, in fact, the last thing she expected.  "I believe you."

He what now?  She watches, a numbness settling over her as the dragon surveys his trainer again.  "We need to get him somewhere safe, somewhere I can get the armor off and see what the damage is. We have some medical supplies as well, but..." He directs everyone's attention to his hands by pausing to glance at them.  Oh, right... he has hands and fingers, but they're a far cry from ones delicate enough to tend to such wounds. "...I lack the proper hands."

He picks a Pokeball from the man's belt, Sara-Anne feeling her Pokemon's energy tense, like a nervously coiled spring.  

Please don't freak out, guys.  Please don't.

"My comrade will be able to carry my trainer much better than I or any of you, as well as the rest of us. I'm... fairly exhausted, and I'm sure all of you would prefer to conserve any energy you have to fight off anything my trainer's crash may have attracted."

"Understandable," she agrees quietly.  "Go ahead."

The beast that the dragon unleashes makes her squeak in fear, the woman stepping back to stare up at the dinosaur dragon in terror.  The name of the species escapes her but-- Oh my GOD he's so BIG and don't these Pokemon have bad tempers oh no oh no

The look that the Tyrantrum gives them isn't reassuring, but his companion is quick to step in.  "They're helping us."

Her heart pricks with pity at the look of obvious distress that he gives his unconscious human.  Thankfully despite that distress, he stays calm.  Good, considering he could probably eat her in one good chomp.

The dragon addresses them again. "Help me pick him up; we'll put him on the Tyrantrum, and then all get on board. You'll direct him" --he nods at her, and her stomach twists-- "to the city. Is that agreed?"

"I-I'm not sure how much directing I can do; like I said; I'm not entirely sure where the town is..."  Sara-Anne tugs on a lock of her hair, watching as Joy steps forward to help Dragonite move Lance with her psychic powers.  "B-but I'll sure try."

"I don't think we can be far away though-- didn't Tommy say that it's at the end of the route with all the ash falling?  If we find our way back to the main path and get out of all these woods, then we just have to go in a straight line."  

"You're assuming the route hasn't been overgrown."

"In four years?  No."  Oh good, she sounded sure of herself that time.  "Maybe in twenty, but not in four.  It should be clear enough so we can recognize it when we find it."

"And with my aura ability, I can see anything long before it gets to us, so we should be able to avoid trouble as long as it's not an entire horde that comes at us." He nods at Sara-Anne.  "I think locating the route is the best option.  We can send Arlene up there to look around; I mean, I'm sure she could spot something from the air."

"What do you think?" Joy addresses the Dragonite; it's only polite to get his opinion, given how his injured trainer is affected by any decision making.

(I'm assuming that as Sara-Anne and her Pokemon discussing this stuff, Joy and Arthur are getting Lance secured onto Dinadan's back.  ^^  Please correct me if needed.)

The girl seemed unsure of herself, something that Arthur wasn't happy to hear. "I-I'm not sure how much directing I can do; like I said; I'm not entirely sure where the town is..." The Gardevoir quietly came to his side and Arthur gave a silent nod of gratitude as he tried to keep his ever-growing panic under control. Lance needed him to be level-headed in this. After all, this wasn't the first time Lance had been injured far from home, and it certainly was the first where they actually had help. He gathered the upper half of his battered trainer in his arms as best he could while the Psychic Fairy dealt with levitating the lower. Arthur felt that he'd rather not risk making Lance's leg any worse than it already was by man-handling it. "B-but I'll sure try."

The small Chimchar was next to speak, giving some optimism back to the conversation. "I don't think we can be far away though-- didn't Vee say that it's at the end of the route with all the ash falling? If we find our way back to the main path and get out of all these woods, then we just have to go in a straight line." As they drew closer to Dinadan, the Tyrantrum quietly lowered himself down to one knee to allow Arthur and Joy to bring their downed trainer onto the former's broad back. Arthur grunted with effort placing Lance on the saddle, his own muscles burning from the previous battle.

"You're assuming the route hasn't been overgrown." Joy pointed out quickly as her job was soon done, and it was left to Arthur to secure Lance on the dinosaur's back.

"In four years? No." The confidence in the otherwise meek trainer caused Arthur to look at her for a moment. The fact that she was so sure that the path wouldn't be blocked was reassuring, though Arthur was fairly sure Dinadan could rip through any sort of vegetation. "Maybe in twenty, but not in four. It should be clear enough so we can recognize it when we find it." Arthur nodded and continued his work.

"And with my aura ability, I can see anything long before it gets to us, so we should be able to avoid trouble as long as it's not an entire horde that comes at us." Mattimeo added optimistically. "I think locating the route is the best option. We can send Arlene up there to look around; I mean, I'm sure she could spot something from the air."

"What do you think?" Arthur turned to Joy, then glanced at the others as he finished the final touches on Lance's straps. "Sounds good," he remarked quietly, dismounting Dinadan. He gave his trainer one last look; he was looking pale -at least, paler than normal- and his wounded leg gave a slow, steady drip of blood. Though the ruined greave was certainly blocking a lot of blood loss, it wasn't perfect. It needed to be tended to very quickly. Lance was tough, but even this was not something he'd be able to survive for long. "I would help scout, but I need to keep my trainer stable and none of my flying comrades are in decent shape at the moment." Half of Lance's team was out, not including himself. Legends only knew how Lucan was faring-- the fact that he wasn't out when Arthur found Lance was a bad sign. The others were simply exhausted from the flight here.

"We need to leave now. Smaller ones, go ahead and board Tyrantrum; I'll help you up. Mattimeo, Joy, if you'll walk beside Tyrantrum in case of attack, please. We'll be going slow, as to not jar my trainer's wounds, so don't worry about keeping up." As he was about to assist the others onto Dinadan's back, the Tyrantrum gently nudged Arthur's arm with his gargantuan head, worry plain on the former's face. "Is he going to be okay?" was his quiet query, to which Arthur's own face softened in response. He patted Dinadan's crown gently, trying to bring his comrade -and himself- some peace of mind. "He's hurt, but I don't think any major organ or artery is in danger. As long as we get him help soon, I think he'll be fine," the Dragonite murmured, hoping to keep their conversation private. With a final nod and an uncertain swallow, Dinadan gave a last glance to their unconscious trainer before swiveling his head back forward, on guard for intruders.

Arthur held out his hand toward the others, pulling lightly on Sara-Anne's once he had hold of it. "Mind the sword and shield," he commented casually, the two said weapons latched firmly to Dinadan's side. There were other supplies as well, but none of the saddlebags nor the sleeping roll could hurt the passengers. Arthur had laid out a blanket for Sara-Anne to sit on, as the saddle only seated one and he knew from experience how awful and hard those Tyrantrum scales were. It would also indicate where she should sit. So, helpful.

Once everyone was aboard, Arthur went to Dinadan's side and assisted him back up on his feet, careful not to jar Lance out of place. With a quick flap of his wings, he was back on the Tyrantrum, settling in directly behind Lance to keep him steady. As he got comfortable, however, he found an alarming amount of more blood-- pooling in Lance's hair and beneath the cloth on his right arm. Not good. Not good at all. Arthur swallowed hard and hoped that the blood was at least congealing, having to push down the new rush of panic that rose within him. He turned back to Sara-Anne, a little more desperate for movement. "Which way?"

(Permission given to manipulate the others.)

As soon as the dragon gives the okay, she pulls out Arlene's Pokeball, muttering a soft "no worries; it's fine" to Arthur as he apologizes.  A click of the pokeball button and the cloud dragon materializes from the light, stretching her wings with a trill, only to quickly stretch her wings in a far more threatening way at the sight of the Dragonite, surprise and alarm etched in every muscle.  Sara-Anne waves her arms to catch the Altaria's attention, and her gaze moves to her human.  "Ar, I'm sorry, but no time to explain.  I need you to fly up and look for the path, okay?"   She blinks, but nods, her wings angling more from a fighting stance to a flight Pokemon preparing for takeoff, able to tell from Sara-Anne's expression and body language that she's not quite finished yet.  "Should be a huge swath of land that's mostly flat and clear; no trees, in a straight line.  Maybe see if you can spot some buildings in the distance?"

The urgency in her trainer's voice is not lost on the Pokemon; though she doesn't recognize the man on the dragon dinosaur's back, it's clear the situation is bad.  "Got it.  Be back soon."

She leaves in a flurry of fast movement.

Arthur takes charge again.  "We need to leave now. Smaller ones, go ahead and board Tyrantrum; I'll help you up. Mattimeo, Joy, if you'll walk beside Tyrantrum in case of attack, please. We'll be going slow, as to not jar my trainer's wounds, so don't worry about keeping up."

"R-right."  As nervous as she is of getting close to the giant thing with the teeth...  Making the Dragonite mad is a worse idea.  He's not angry now, no, but fear makes people angry, and his poor human is pretty hurt, and that's plenty cause for fear.  Mattimeo and Joy nod in response to him but watch Sara-Anne with sharp eyes, aware of her fear.

She moves forward to allows Arthur to assist her on climbing onto the Tyrantrum.  Being a natural climber, Flame needs no such assistance, and patiently waits for her to get situated.  Her heart aches as the Tyrantrum nudges his friend, his voice low but the worry in it plain.  "Is he going to be okay?"

She doesn't hear his companion's reply as she approaches, but Tyrantrum nods.  She manages a weak smile.  Well, that could mean the answer was promising, right?  

He takes her hand, gently, and helps her onto the dinosaur's back.  "Mind the sword and shield," he says just as she spots them on his back, and she giggles nervously, what was supposed to be a casual response sticking to the inside of her throat.  

He finishes preparations, Flame scaling Tyrantrum on his own to settle on his usual perch at Sara-Anne's shoulder, watching Dragonite with his large, dark eyes.  Once finished, Dragonite looks to her, barely concealed panic in his eyes.  "Which way?"

"I-- we're about to find out right now," she answers, spotting the bright blue of her Altaria overhead.  Arlene flies in a circle, then takes off.  "Looks like she found the path; follow her!"

As Arthur's heart pounded in his ears, he watched the human fumble for just a moment as she looked for her Altaria. "I-- we're about to find out right now." Arthur followed her gaze, spotting the cloud dragon circle their location for a moment before flying off. "Looks like she found the path; follow her!"

Dinadan was quick to react; he must have been watching the Altaria as well. Still, they were finally on the move. Though Arthur's instinct was to go as fast as possible to find help for Lance, he knew so many reasons why that was just a terrible idea. Swallowing a hard lump that had found its way into his throat, he looked back down at his unconscious trainer. It was difficult to keep his eyes off the blood already smeared and smattered on his scales, his worry increasing as each steady footfall sounded. They were going too slow. They were just going too slow...

Arthur took in a long steadying breath, closing his eyes in the meantime to calm himself. Now that the blood was smearing all over the Dragonite's front, the smell was beginning to waft; it set all of his senses on fire, a mental alarm flaring all of his instincts of fight or flight. Still, he needed to be calm. He had to be. Trying to still appear collected, he looked about himself in a bid to jog his memory of where the medical supplies were located. The least he could do was find a bit of clean cloth to put on the head wound. He spotted it by his flank and reached back a bit, uttering a small, "Beg pardon," to the trainer as he nearly threw open a pouch next to her leg. His large hand was still bloodied, but he hoped the girl wasn't terribly squeamish.

Finding his prize in a small towelette, he withdrew and placed it up against the back of Lance's head, where it acted almost like a pillow resting on Arthur's torso. First, however, before he got settled, he unstrapped the saddle on his own back and placed it behind him to balance on his tail. Not that he'd need it on him anytime soon. The Dragonite took in another long, steadying breath, hoping that his small gesture would help.

The travel along the route was surprisingly quiet; though Arthur had anticipated at least a mild resistance to their movement, it seemed that the ashen path was almost barren in not only its landscape, but life in general. The Dragonite's eyes trailed to the looming volcano nearby, its proud structure dominating anything nearby. Surely that had something to do with it? Of all the places he had traveled with Lance, none had the uniqueness of a sentinel such as Mt. Chimney. Regardless, Arthur was glad for the peace. Shifting his shoulders and legs as they began to complain, he kept his eyes wide as they scanned the world around them. It was all he could do to keep his mind off of his ailing trainer.

Her nerves strain, ready to snap at the slightest noise.  For a while now everything has been quiet, but Sara-Anne knows that such a thing doesn't last.  It's a only a matter of when, not if, and of course, how.   Please don't let it be a horde...

If a horde were coming, the Pokemon around would smell it long before it reached them.  Really, that's not something she has to worry about.  Nor does she have to worry about humans, really; same rules apply.

--unless they were covered in mud, or something to throw off scents--

No, no; don't... don't think about that.  Don't stress.  Don't stress.  She lets out a deep breath, ignoring how it shakes.  It doesn't do much to ease the tightness out of her chest.

The cloud dragon above continues to lead the way, her blue and white form easily distinguishable against the cloudy sky.  At least getting lost isn't something to worry about, anymore...

"... His aura is... shuddering."  Mattimeo is staring at Lance as they walk, his brow furrowed.  "If we don't find it soon, we'll need to stop to try giving him better medical attention..."

"Wait, isn't that a house!?"  The chimp leaps from Sara-Anne's shoulder to Joy's as the fairy walks alongside the dragon dinosaur, pointing.

The woman blinks, mouth opening slightly.  In the distance-- that's definitely a building--

"We- We should stop there."  Oops, maybe that's too direct.  Too much like she's in charge; what if the dragon gets angry?  "A-at least, I think so.  We might not find a better place to get a good look at his injuries for a while, and maybe we can find supplies there!"

It seemed hours that they walked along that route, Dinadan faithfully following the Altaria floating carelessly above them while all Arthur could do was cradle their unconscious trainer in his arms. Lance's rattling, wet breathing was enough to keep the Dragonite on high alert; it was a very real sign that there was blood somewhere in his airways, either just pooled up from his stomach, or maybe he bit his tongue and it bled and the blood's stuck in his throat or the worst-- his lungs were punctured. Each situation had its own clock ticking down his life, and yet all Arthur could do was sit and wait.  "... His aura is... shuddering." Arthur's gaze shot, wide-eyed and alert to the Lucario, who had his own focused gaze honed in on his wounded trainer. Of course, Dinadan's large head whipped toward Mattimeo as well, fear obvious on the dinosaur's face. "If we don't find it soon, we'll need to stop to try giving him better medical attention..."

"W-Wha--"

"Wait, isn't that a house!?" Flame cried, pointing ahead and subsequently diverting the group's attention away from Lance and toward the near distance. Sure enough, there seemed to be a sort of structure still standing against the ashen trees. Arthur swallowed the hard lump in his throat, hope rising in tandem with his fear.
"Wait--"

"We- We should stop there," Sara stammered, earning a whole-hearted agreement from Arthur. "A-at least, I think so.  We might not find a better place to get a good look at his injuries for a while, and maybe we can find supplies there!"

"Is he gonna die?"

"Tyrantrum." Arthur's voice was sharp and stern-- he was already losing control of the situation. His heart ached for Lance to be awake, but... No. He could do this. He'd done things like this before. He just had to stay calm.  "He'll be ok-- we need to remain calm for him." Turning to address Sara, he turned slightly, his back somewhat still to her. "No, you're right. We need to stop and actually take care of him now." Arthur gently kicked Dinadan's sides with his heels, spurring the dinosaur on. Hopefully, they'd be able to make it in time to help him...

"A little faster. Mattimeo, are you sure there's nothing ahead, in the house?" His mind raced and quickly, his instincts took over. Arthur snatched another pokeball from Lance's side, knowing the pokemon within was tired from the flight, yes, but otherwise fine. Tossing the pokeball with expert ease to release another of his companions, he stared down at the confused and immediately alarmed Charizard with an intense stare. "Charizard, go with Mattimeo, the Lucario, to scout out the house. Find a place for Lance so we can start stitching him back up."

Without a single word to question Arthur, Galahad nodded quickly, turning to the specified Lucario. "Lead the way."

"Tyrantrum."  The voice makes Sara-Anne jump a touch, but thank god, no embarrassing noises.  "He'll be ok-- we need to remain calm for him." Oh shit now he's turning to address her. "No, you're right. We need to stop and actually take care of him now."

"A little faster. Mattimeo, are you sure there's nothing ahead, in the house?" Mattimeo opens his mouth to answer, but Dragonite is too nervous; he sends out a Charizard.  Sara-Anne can't help but stare in awe.

The Kanto fire starter.  What a beauty.

"Charizard, go with Mattimeo, the Lucario, to scout out the house. Find a place for Lance so we can start stitching him back up."

Without a single word to question Arthur, Galahad nodded quickly, turning to the specified Lucario. "Lead the way."

"Roger."  He nods to Dragonite and Tyrantrum.  "Take care of them for me."

With that he takes off at a breakneck pace, his species' renowned speed shown off in full as he races to the home.  He skids to a stop by the window, the Lucario peering inside.

"I still don't sense anything.  I don't see anything, either.  I believe it's safe.  A Lucario's aura sense is never wrong, and the sooner he recieves medical attention, the better."

"Roger." Arthur thanked the Legends above for Mattimeo's steadfast cooperation. This would be going a lot differently if any of these pokemon or their trainer were stubborn or indignant. "Take care of them for me." The Dragonite gave a firm nod as he swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat. He gave one last look to Galahad, one far more desperate than he'd wanted, before turning his attention to his alarmingly pale trainer. The Lucario dashed off, his comrade hot on his heels.

"Ah, Joy," Arthur faltered, now spotting the clear line of blood that trailed all the way down Dinadan's side. "If-If you could help me move him again, please." His arms were now shaking, but he couldn't let it show. He couldn't let the sweat on his brow show. He needed to maintain his errant emotions for not only the others to follow by example, but to keep himself from going into an emotional rage. His trainer was in his arms, literally dying, and for the life of Arthur, he could barely remember his own name out of the pulsing, overwhelming fear that was steadily eating his logic. But he couldn't falter. He couldn't afford to.

Once Lance was safely moved from Dinadan, Arthur's eyes went to the trail of red that followed their progress like tiny crimson footprints. Of course. Heaving out a long, heavy sigh, Arthur looked to the large, anxious dinosaur. "Tyrantrum, cover the trail of blood, please. We don't want to advertise our location." He nodded as well, knowing better than to question the Dragonite and, once the small trainer had dismounted, turned to go do as he was asked. He wordlessly stomped on and covered the blood with the ashy dirt, quickly making his way back into the tree line.

Galahad had honestly been surprised by the Lucario's speed. It took a moment for his tired to wings to catch up, coming to a heavy landing beside the bipedal canine. He grimaced slightly as his wings screamed their protests, but he did his best to ignore them. "I still don't sense anything," he muttered. The Charizard was at least grateful for the news. "I don't see anything, either. I believe it's safe. A Lucario's aura sense is never wrong, and the sooner he receives medical attention, the better."

There was little time to consider. He personally hadn't had much experience in dealing with Lucario, but they were renowned for their extraordinary Aura capabilities. Surely Lance would trust this creature's power? Though Galahad's instincts screamed at him to scout it first, properly, he knew from the look on Arthur's face that there was no time to waste. Every second brought death closer; he hadn't gotten that great of a look of Lance, but Arthur's expression and now this Lucario stressing his trainer's health, well... it was easy enough to put the pieces together. Besides, what would this creature's gain be if he were lying?

Despite his instincts, Galahad nodded. "R-Right. Go and tell the others it's clear, then, and I'll make a place for them to put him. Hurry back?" He turned to go into the house alone before a thought struck him. "Oh!" He quickly looked back for the Lucario, hoping he wasn't too far away. "Thank you. You didn't have to help, but you did, and that means a lot. Though it might not show."

"Ah, Joy."  The fairy turns to look at him, skirt twirling as she moves to face him.  "If-If you could help me move him again, please."

She stares at him, her pink eyes seeing right through him.  Her own arms tremble, the dragon's terror weighing on her.  But she nods, and moves forward to help him, pushing through it as she always does.

My brave girl...

"Tyrantrum, cover the trail of blood, please. We don't want to advertise our location."  She hangs on tighter as the dinosaur walks around, stomping the blood into the ashy grass.  Sara-Anne bites her lip, keeping her head up.  Nope, she can do without looking at more blood.  She's going to be looking at enough soon, anyway.

At least her Pokemon will be there.  Thank god.  Thank god.  

At least if he requires stitches, Flame can get that for her.  She can help with applying pressure to bleeding.  Mattimeo there to moniter his condition.  Yes, this will work.  Everything will be fine.

--

"R-Right. Go and tell the others it's clear, then, and I'll make a place for them to put him. Hurry back?" Mattimeo nods at him and turns to do so.

But a call from the dragon gives him pause. "Oh!"

He looks over his shoulder, already half turned.

"Thank you. You didn't have to help, but you did, and that means a lot. Though it might not show."

The canine gives him a little wave, nearly a salute, and a small smile.  "You're welcome."  

It takes him less than two minutes to return to the others, skidding to a stop alongside them.  "It's all clear.  Charizard is preparing a place for him."

Dinadan had forgotten about his human passenger well until he felt shifting on his back as he slowly made his way away from the others. He stomped and brushed away his trainer's blood for a while, unsure of what to say to her. "S-So um..." It was odd talking to a stranger by himself; Arthur was always the one to take charge and do all of... that. Though he was very much an adult and sure of himself as a battler, social interactions with strangers was never something he'd ever had to master. It certainly showed now. "I didn't catch your name? Names? It's... uhm... not often we find friendly trainers out here."

Jeez, why was small talk so difficult?

-----
"You're welcome."

Galahad gave a small sigh of gratitude as the Lucario sped back off to the others, turning once more back to the abandoned house. It looked sturdy enough and from his vantage point, the roof looked like it was still intact. Maybe this place was remote enough to where a large horde, like ones he'd seen in the cities, hadn't come through to obliterate everything? He was hoping so, at least. His hand went to the doorknob, but, of course...

"Locked." He frowned, jiggling the handle a bit before groaning a little. He didn't want to have to break the door, since they'd need it to close, but... Arthur was surely on his way with Lance and they needed a good, clean space. They'd just have to figure out the door later, then. With a good, powerful kick, the door flew inward, revealing a dark and dusty interior. He knew the Lucario said there was nothing here, but... he couldn't help the instinct to immediately scout the house's entirety. He shook his head again; he was on a time limit and he had a job to do.

Of course, there wasn't power, so light was a pressing issue, especially since they would need to carefully look over Lance to see what the damage was. Stepping forward, Galahad look around to find himself in what could only be a living room-- it was a large open area with two open doorways leading out into more darkness. There were chairs and a sofa, as well as a large coffee table situated in the middle. There looked like there were things that once hung on the walls, but they were gone now. Perhaps whoever lived here had evacuated instead of dying in the house? Galahad certainly hoped that whoever it was, they'd made it out.

Ok, so space. It'd be ideal to get him in a bed, but... having him here in the area closest to the door was probably best. So he'd have to settle for the chair or couch. The chair was a recliner with a wide seat, which would allow them to access his sides if needed. That was good. He pulled back on the chair, forcing it to recline until it locked into a completely horizontal position, then looked around again. No matter what, they were going to need towels for the blood. Unfortunately, Galahad didn't know much else of what was exactly wrong with Lance. Poison? Lacerations? Broken bones? Burns? He shook his head clear. He needed towels. Just... focus on towels.

The Charizard's eyes went to the couch, where he spotted a few blankets haphazardly crumpled to one side. Those would have to do. He beat them free of dust for a while before laying one over the chair and then folding the other, placing it to the side. The chair was ready for Lance, but they still needed light.

He spotted his prize in not only opening curtains, but in candles placed on a mantle as well as a fireplace. Though Galahad was wary to simply light a fire in a fireplace that hadn't likely been used for years, he kept it in mind as he carefully took the candles and placed them around the chair and couch. Opening the windows mostly did the trick, thanks to the sun, but the candles would still be handy at night. Plus... He took a quick sniff of one in his hand and allowed a small smile to grace his features. Huh. Vanilla. Yummy.
-----

Arthur and Joy were moving slowly but steadily toward the house as Mattimeo soon reappeared. Thank Legends. "It's all clear. Charizard is preparing a place for him." The Dragonite numbly nodded, his mind still frayed and frantic. Things were coming together, at least. He tried not to look down to see Lance's half-lidded eyes that had rolled into his head, nor how pale his face had become, nor the blood that had soaked through his clothes. They just had to get him to the house and then they'd be ok.

The journey to the house felt like an eternity. It seemed sturdy, quaint, whatnot. Whole, which was important. Galahad stood just inside, watching them approach. Once inside, the Charizard gestured to a chair, lined with towels. "Put him here--" Arthur nodded and guided Lance to the chair, grunting as he carefully laid his trainer on the plush leather.

"Joy, if I could ask your assistance once more," he spoke evenly, his eyes spotting the straps keeping his trainer's armor in place. "I need your delicate hands. If you could undo the straps here, here and here," he pointed to each in turn. "They're fashioned like belts, so they won't be difficult to manage." He gently lifted his trainer to expose his back, where the larger straps crossed.

"S-So um..."

Oh no.  More talking?  She tenses.

"I didn't catch your name? Names? It's... uhm... not often we find friendly trainers out here."

"Well, today's your lucky day then, isn't it?"  Flame hops up the dinosaur dragon so that he can climb up onto Sara-Anne's shoulder, giving him a grin.  "And ours, too.  I'm Flame.  This is Sara-Anne.  The Lucario is Mattimeo, the Gardevoir's Joy, and the Altaria's Arlene."

"N-nice to meet you."  She gives him her best smile, feeling some of the nervousness tucking itself away.  Okay.  She can do this.  Just.  Normal conversation, right?  And with a cool-ass dragon dinosaur?  She can do this, yes.

It's after this that Mattimeo shows up and fate decides that nope, she cannot do this, not just yet anyway.

And so off they go, arriving at the home in minutes.  Dragonite's mask is slipping further.

Either his composure is slipping because prolonged stress is getting to him, or Mr. RPG Man is actively getting worse.

"Joy, if I could ask your assistance once more.  I need your delicate hands."  The fairy approaches before he even finishes the sentence, watching as he points. "If you could undo the straps here, here and here.  They're fashioned like belts, so they won't be difficult to manage."  She nods and begins to undo the straps, glancing up when the dragon speaks again.  "If-If you could help me move him again, please."

"Yes, of course."

As she helps Arthur, Sara-Anne glances around the living room.

Well, here it is.  Actually, aside from the dust, it doesn't look so bad.  Huh.  Maybe this will turn out to be a good thing, if they can manage to help the injured man. There's even candles for when it gets dark.

Now she just has to hope the dragon tamer survives.