No time to lose.
We continued our chase through the jungle. Hau’s revelations on the specifics of the National Starter Program weighed heavily on our minds - something that we couldn’t help but discuss among ourselves.
Petal the Oddish would be in their ball until it became absolutely necessary, and Oran Juice the Dunsparce slithered right behind me as we plowed forward.
Cries and screeches. We were deep in wild territory, now, and we methodically navigated around the roaming threats.
Tuula and Sawney lagged behind, their brightly colored hair sticking out like sore thumbs in the underbrush as we slowly moved through the greenery. They muttered worriedly to one another, clutching tightly their respective starters like they could be taken at any moment.
They would not be taken, of course, that seemed to be a possible outcome to only those who earned a National Starter through the program. But still. Hau was at a risk of something like it – if his Torracat hadn’t decided to leave him by herself.
Cries and screeches.
“...How is this possible?” Lilliane whispered under her breath. She, too, clutched her Pokemon’s small hand as we walked and her Ledyba buzzed softly to her side. Her own starter was safe in her ball where she’d been since this morning. “I– I haven’t heard of anything like this back in Kalos. This is– this is barbaric–”
“Um! Uh, I think I heard of something like that a few years ago.” And indeed I did – mom had narrowly avoided the time it had been implemented, but now I could recall her talking about it with dad in very cross terms just five years back. “It’s something to do about how, uh, the Incineroar and Primarina colonies are too small, and not enough first-stages volunteer as Starters, so there’s not enough for everybody. Obviously it’s really bad, but I think that was the practice in Kanto-Johto when they first implemented the Gym Challenge.”
“I suppose - eugh - that makes sense. But the solution shouldn’t be to just– tear apart the trainer’s bond because numbers are too low!
“It’s the foreigners’ fault,” Rui said flippantly. He did not avert his gaze from his Rattata as it continued to sniff out the Torracat’s trail.
Hau balked back. “What the fuck, Rui.”
“What?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying– it’s not that the colonies are too small, it’s that we got too many people in Alola now. Tourists from all over come in, they find the islands sooooo nice, and then their kids need pokemon with the best genes because they won’t settle for a Pikipek or whatever.”
“Rui, cool it.” Tuula warned, her eyes narrowing as she whisper-shouted from the back of the line. “I’m warning you.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He angrily shoved back a branch as we ventured deeper in the forest, and perked up as his Rattata chittered something to him. “Killer found something.”
My heart started to beat faster in my chest. We sped up as Killer the Rattata picked up the pace, bouncing over knots of roots and through tall grass.
We’d been very careful in our travel, now, stepping very carefully around Pokemon territory – so careful that I feared we would lose the Torracat’s trail, or worse, we would find her in an injured state.
The Rattata’s frantic chase stopped, peering at something glinting on the jungle floor.
Hau stepped closer - I followed suit - and he gingerly lifted a spherical piece of metal.
The Pokeball in his hands was now covered in dents and scratches. Ash and flecks of paint dislodged as he lifted it to his face, and he winced, holding the pokeball with the very tip of his fingers. A pokeball is exceedingly hard to break, we knew, and while this one’s paint had all but burned off it would most likely still be functional– and indeed, it expanded as he pressed the center button.
He gave it a short toss– but as expected, no Torracat was hidden inside.
No one needed to spell out what this blackened, burnt and scratched pokeball meant.
Hau grimaced. We all stewed in silence. My Dunsparce gave out a quiet bray, confused at the situation.
Rui gave a terse nod to his Rattata who just answered with a small shake of the head.
“...Hau, bad news. I think that’s the end of the lead.” Rui trained his eyes on the Iki Town teen. “It’s already 1 PM or so. I know this sucks, but If we can’t find your cat now, we should turn back if we want to get back on route before the sun sets.”
Hau couldn’t look back. He gripped the pokeball gently, ran his fingers across it, hands turning black with ash. Tears ran down his cheeks.
In the distance; a cry, and a screech.
Hau froze.
“I hear her.” He hopped to his feet, eyes wide, his head zero-ing onto a direction. “I heard her!”
The landscape around us became a blur.
Branches and leaves whipped us in the face as we desperately rushed through.
The sound of gasping breaths was the only thing I could hear as we threw caution to the wind.
Gradually, the clashes of battle became faintly apparent: yelps, yowls, alarming shrieks, the pitter-patter of paws racing on the ground and the crash of bodies against trees–
We finally broke through the treeline and beheld the battlefield.
This was a clearing, a momentary patch of space within the jungle, though the trees still enclosed us tight. Faint flames clung to roots and branches of the space; remnants and shots of Embers that hadn’t found their mark. Anxiety grasped my heart as I feared for a forest fire, but I recalled Hau’s words prior; the Incineroar colony wouldn’t have settled here if the trees could easily burn. Still, a faint warm haze coated the area as an orange glow outlined the shapes within.
What intimidating shapes they were.
It stood above its fallen prey. One gnarled foot curled upon the fallen stump of a tree, sharpened claws digging into bark. A long, crooked neck outlined in a collar of ruffled feathers held its head aloft as it pecked forward in a repetitive motion. Its beak, like a long blade with a curved tip, fluid running down its edge. A crest of red feathers ran up its head, shining crimson in the flames’ glow.
The Fearow narrowed its beady eyes at Loa’s limp form. The Torracat dangled limply, held around the waist between the predatory bird’s talons, twitching once or twice as the Fearow poked it with its beak.
Two red gashes ran across Loa’s form. One from her right cheek to her neck, the other running down her flank hidden from view. Both ran blood down in rivulets.
Hau moved with desperation, scrambling to recall Loa back in her ball– but the Fearow moved in a jerking motion, craning its body and moving one massive wing to shield the recall beam from connecting with the Torracat, and Hau found himself just staring and trembling at the predator.
A cold anxiety fell upon us like a cold blanket. Hau’s Starter was here– she was not dead – we had the medicine needed to stabilize her before we could give her proper medical care – but she was grasped in the claws of a predator that had truly and well defeated her, and lest we act it would fly away with its quarry.
She would be truly gone, then.
Tension suffused the clearing. My fingers ached and beads of sweat dripped down the brow of us trainers.
It was difficult for me to think about the reality of predation.
Pokemon do not fight in vain. They fight to protect their territory, they fight to secure a ressource, they fight to settle their differences; they rarely, ever so rarely fight to kill.
The last true carnivores had died tens of millions of years ago as sentience slowly dawned on Man and Mon - then by the modern era, no known creature ever had meat as its primary food source. Even ancient humans had evolved away from their meat-eating cousins; we no longer had the bacteria required to digest meat proteins, now.
And yet, it was a known danger of wilderness that some wild Pokemon would hunt, would prey, and would feast.
The Fearow turned its gaze to each of us in turn and considered which of us it could fly away with next.
Hau abandoned the attempt to recall Loa to instead rush forward at the Fearow. In two great wing beats, it moved back and up in the air five feet and slapped the teen boy away to the ground.
Loa’s limp body dangled from its claws.
A flurry of orders came from us trainers– frantic, panicked, desperate, but orders nonetheless, and our pokemon sprung into action to get the Torracat off of the Flying-type’s clutches.
Rui’s Rattata reached it first despite its airborne position - it jumped off of a tree to nick its incisors into one of its legs, the Fearow cawing in indignation. Another blur of movement, and it stabbed the ground with its beak just where the Rattata had once been, then spun and dodged another Quick Attack from its opponent.
In a test of speed, it seemed like the Rattata had the edge. And yet, sudden displaced air off of the Fearow’s wings was enough to send its opponent off balance and crashing into the ground. It reached with its unoccupied claw to gore the Rattata open– and it missed, its attention suddenly swerving to its side as Tuula’s Spinda gyrated its body in such a confusing manner. Even I felt my attention finding itself captured by the Normal type–
So the Fearow was going after the Spinda next– Love Tax the Spinda teetered and tottered, balancing itself on one foot before somersaulting backwards to avoid a sudden strike from the Fearow’s beak. Another blur of motion, and Rui’s Rattata nicked off a few more feathers with its Quick Attacks as it was distracted.
Tuula gave a snap order and her Spinda spun on its axis and suddenly moved like the Fearow did, folded arms as its side like wings. It hopped up to the Flying tip and bopped its beak with its paw with a surprisingly powerful slap sound - did it copy the Fearow’s Wing Attack? - only for the Fearow to retaliate with a brutal bash forward strong enough to leave the Spinda with an ugly blue bruise.
Tuula let out a gasping cry. Even Sawney, as visibly afraid as he was, gave an order to his Grubbin that he kept holding on to– the truth of the matter was that our opponent’s beak was a foot long spear that would surely skewer our Pokemon if it landed a blow…
As Rui’s Rattata kept up the assault at a slower, more cautious pace, I steeled myself and asked OJ to get in the fray as well. I was terrified for his safety but I understood that he was, sans Torracat, the heftier Pokemon we had; he’d be able shoulder a few hits if the Fearow got some in.
My Dunsparce reached the ongoing brawl through the ground, tentatively popping out to throw himself at the Fearow in a Rollout or a Flail and squirming back into the jungle earth.
I took a step back.
Love Tax the Spinda stumbled back and was scooped up by its trainer. Hau waited in the wings, grimacing, looking for an opportunity to get in and grab Loa. Lilliane and Toku the Ledyba played keep-away with a combination of his usual protective Moves and projectiles, his trainer trembling but giving orders still. Killer the Rattata and Oran Juice the Dunsparce kept up the assault - tackles and lunges, weaving in and out of the brush layer - easily avoided by the Fearow. Given the density of vegetation, it exerted a lot of effort weaving itself around the vines and branches of the canopy.
Its wingbeats sent out buffeting winds at us - not trying to hurt us, or by some control Flying-type of wind, but purely from its physical strength as it moved. I expected a Flying type to get to the air and stay airborne for the entirety of the fight. Yet, here, we found the evolved Pokemon pouncing from perch to perch, prodding and slapping with its beak and wings, shrieking out mockingly with its prey grabbed tight.
It was toying with us.
And yet, its grasp on Loa tightened and a little more blood seeped out the dangling feline.
Focus, Selene, remember what you know– I stumbled back as another of the Fearow’s wing beats sent a gust of wind my way–
The Fearow is a lone hunter and a very efficient creature. Its loud shriek allows it to warn its brethren over a kilometer away as a Spearow, or scare off its rivals once it evolves. Its stamina is unparalleled among the Flying-types. Coordination of Its wings allows it for tight, sudden snap-turns, which it uses to stab with its sharp beak. The legs and claws have powerful muscles which it uses for swift slashes.
I looked at this creature and saw a predator used to a static, if crowded environment; a creature that often faced prey with sensitive flesh and delicate skin–
My heart beat so, so fast in my chest. We were in grave danger and scared out of our wits – but we were still six trainers with more than six pokemon to our name. I had a strategy.
I felt Petal’s pokeball in the palm of my hand and released them in my arms – my Oddish would be at their most sluggish in the middle of the day, and they’d be especially vulnerable to the Fearow’s attacks – and whispered my plan to my groggy plant. Their response was a tired nod.
As more orders were thrown by the other trainers, I inched my way toward Sawney - a ball of anxiety suddenly forming in my throat - and enlisted his help. His Grubbin and my Oddish would be working in concert for this.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Next up– “OJ! Throw everything at it with Secret Power! Do it until you hit rocks!” and the little snake popped out of a hole and twirled in a blurry of motion.
His tail scraped the ground and threw a constant assault; dead leaves and fallen bark first, blooming strangely and suddenly, scattering spores up into the air; then sprays of dirt and gravel, coating the area in an irritating film of dust. The fight slowed down; the Fearow pushing out the spores with beats of its great wings then shielding itself from the sprays of dirt.
While it was distracted, Sawney and I inched around the battlefield as our Pokemon worked their magic. His Grubbin sent out precise String Shots over and across the battlefield, connecting tree trunks and branches– while my Grass-type focused in the earth and slowly shifted the vines around, looping them around the newly-made ropes to slowly, surely make a web–
A yelp rang out– Rui’s Rattata fell mid-jump, two lines of red painting his dark fur across his right flank. He stumbled as he attempted to get back up, and was recalled in his pokeball in a flash of red– a second before the Fearow’s beak skewered the ground.
My hand clenched around my other wrist. Two of our Pokemon were down; three were still up. Second part of the plan. “OJ, coat yourself in rocks!”
My Dunsparce rolled in the earth once, then twice - the faint glow of Secret Power covering his body, as pebbles and gravel stuck to him and compacted into a carapace. He flexed, he grunted, and cracks in the shell filled in as he focused on Defense Curl. We had only just started working on this trick a few days ago, and it was still in its drafting stage, but hopefully adrenaline would help with the rest.
The Fearow looked at Oran Juice with an amused glint and adjusted its grip on the fainted Torracat. Its eyes focused on my Dunsparce, now tentatively approaching with his newly made suit of armor–
Sawney and Rui grabbed Grubbin’s String Shot and grunted in exertion as they pulled as strong as they could.
The rope caught onto one, two, three, four knots around the battlefield, rapidly tightening a tapestry of web and vines. The Fearow caught our plan at the last second and moved– but not before the net bound around its right wing and leg and tightened the two together.
In a tangle of limbs, the Fearow crashed to the jungle floor.
The net of string and vine creaked and strained under the pressure of the evolved Pokemon’s struggle. It managed to push its bound leg to the ground to get a semi-crouched position, one wing completely stuck to its side, two to three ropes pinning the Flying-type to the center of the clearing– and there my Dunsparce crashed into the Fearow with his rock-covered body.
With the Fearow bound and cowed like this, we maybe had a fighting chance - still, despite losing access to a wing and being stuck to the floor as it was, its grip on the Torracat remained as solid as ever. Oran Juice sprung himself at the Flying-type, striking its bound wing with a rock-solid tail attack. It squawked in indignation, hopped back and retaliated in a furious flurry of beak-tip attacks, chipping bits of OJ’s armor as he advanced.
The struggle continued. Sawney and Rui desperately kept their hold on the makeshift net, ensuring that it kept the Flying type at bay. It fought against its bounds, unable to fully maneuver itself, raging against my Dunsparce with barely contained fury.
With every hammering blow that OJ could land, his opponent cracked his armor a little more. For any time wasted at consolidating the armor with Defense Curl, the Fearow’s bounds creaked and strained a little harder.
The limp body that the Flying-type held in its claws twitched.
Everything happened all at once;
In a desperate attempt to knock out his assailant, Oran Juice curled into a ball and spun in place – with all this time focusing on Defense Curl over and over again, his armor had become a cracked smooth ball of stone – and the resulting charging Rollout barrelled toward the Fearow at top speed, clouds of dust in his wake–
The Fearow screeched and pulled against its bindings, once more – I heard the boys at my side cry out as the rope they were holding to snapped and our makeshift net unraveled, vines giving and snapping and freeing its wings–
Hau took his chance and charged at the Fearow–
My Dunsparce crashed into the Fearow with a crack that echoed throughout the jungle; his carapace of stone didn’t crumble as much as it exploded, sending out rocks and gravel into his opponent’s torso. The Fearow jerked away with a pained screech, and as spasms rocked its body, its foothold on the feline slipped out and Loa plummeted to the ground.
Hau dove and caught her in his arms, landing safely on the floor. We had her.
All us humans converged, eyes wide at the recovering Fearow. My Dunsparce wrestled with his balance and slithered our way, Lilliane’s Ledyba flew between us and our opponent ready to intercept. We weren’t out of the woods yet.
The Flying-type shook its head and flapped away the gravel and dust from its battered body. Its head looked at its empty talons then glared daggers at us, pupils pinpricks and red at the corner of its eyes.
In one wingbeat it pounced and its beak drove like a missile–
With a strident crash it smashed into a Barrier that Toku had summoned. The Ledyba strained against the Fearow’s enraged efforts as it speared its beak again and again into the forcefield.
We all huddled and cowered as the Fearow’s head jabbed relentlessly. With every strike, the latticework of Toku’s Barrier lit up and illuminated our frightened faces, painting the edge of the Fearow’s beak in bright white. With every blow, I saw stamina leave the Ledyba’s limbs.
One after the other, each of Toku’s arms fell to his side. Finally, he collapsed, utterly spent– and the Barrier came down with him.
A flash of red and Lilliane recalled him inside of his ball. The Fearow advanced, head low to the ground, breath heavy, eyes red with murder. Its wings spread out, blotting out the light.
Tuula and Rui’s Pokemon were hurt or down for the count at that point. Sawney’s Grubbin and my Oddish were still up but utterly exhausted, both drained by the net plan. Twenty feet from us, my Dunsparce struggled to get out of his Rollout-induced daze.
Hau was cradling the unconscious Loa still.
Lilliane stood in front of us, Toku’s ball in her trembling hand. She put it in her bag and retrieved Stella’s. Up to now, she had been the only Pokemon unreleased and uninjured.
We stood in silence as the Fearow stalked forward.
She hesitated.
I didn’t need to see the faces of the Rui, Tuula and Sawney to know what they were thinking: here we are, in a life and death situation against a rowdy wild Pokemon, recall your injured and send off your healthy fighters to combat. We all did, why not you?
Ball raised toward the Pokemon, her lips trembled– I saw her try and attempt to say the release words, but her breath caught in her throat, sobs clogging up her neck.
She was taking too long. The Fearow was a lot closer still, ready to stab its beak into Lilliane, now, or just snatch Stella’s ball altogether–
And the clearing suddenly lit with red.
Something akin to a fireball suddenly collided with the Flying-type– not a fireball, but a flame-cloaked Torracat that had pounced off of Hau into the Fearow.
The two wrestled brutally in a tangle of limbs and flame. One screeched and struggled, the other clawed and bit, feathers flying off–
The Fearow slashed across Loa’s chin and we all gasped. She yowled, backed off and stumbled as blood dripped down her jaw, and the Fearow advanced, neck retracting to stab once more.
A flurry of motion– and Hau stood in front of Loa in a fighting stance, Fearow’s beak pushed off to the side. A reddenning line to his flank marked where the Fearow’s beak had cut into his shirt.
In one swift motion, he grabbed the Fearow by the beak and neck and kneed it violently into its throat.
The predator made a deafening sound like a flock of Zubats rushing out of Groudon’s cave, then pounced away and up into the treeline.
As soon as we realized that we’d driven off our assailant, we ran and did not look back.
----------------------------------------
We would not be able to leave the Melemele jungle until the next day.
This is what occurred to us, once we’d realized that Hau had fallen behind – the slash across his abdomen actually stung too much for him to continue running.
Despite how spooked we were in this forest, we had no choice but hunker down.
I was no stranger to using ether as a way to give my Pokemon a little stamina boost when it was necessary – my Oddish is nocturnal, yet insists on accompanying me on day-time events, so giving them ether or an elixir tablet once in a while was a way to make that happen.
It worked just as well on my Dunsparce as it once did on Petal. We’d stopped at a deserted glade with a large, overlooking tree, and Oran Juice had gone to work – half an hour later, my Dunsparce had dug out for us a sizeable den for all of us to hide in, and we’d covered the entrance with moss and roots. His task finished, OJ curled up into a ball against Petal and fell asleep on the spot.
In the meantime, we applied basic medicine to anybody that needed it – some sprays of potion for Rui’s Rattata, Tuula’s Spinda, Lilliane’s Ledyba and my Dunsparce. Hau and Loa needed some more urgent care, which was why finding a place to sit down was so needed.
So now, we were all huddled in the cramped, dirt-covered den – we had laid all our blankets on the floor and shook off the dirt outside. With the sun peeking through the roots at the entrance and two of our lamps, it made for a dim ambiance.
I was so tired.
Adrenaline had completely worn off for all of us. Sawney and the twins had started breaking down into tears and sat against the wall, all of them hugging one another and their battered Pokemon tight. I was about to sit down and do the same when my gaze drifted to Hau and Loa’s bloody bandages – my starter, bless their soul, tiredly tugged on my sleeve and hushered me forward.
Hau was sitting down on a blanket with his starter to his side. He’d tore up some cloth from his bag to make it into a makeshift bandage and applied pressure to it with his arm. Laying on her side, Loa had gone limp not long after.
She still breathed, thank the Tapus. Her body was covered in cuts and scrapes, with three bleeding wounds that we had bandaged as tightly as we could; two on her torso, one on her chin.
“Potion won’t be enough to treat her wounds– y-your wound, too,” I told Hau. Trainer medicine could work wonders nowadays - but what we had was the low grade stuff, and better potions were expensive.
Post-battle care as a rookie trainer was simple, normally. It had been drilled into us less than a year ago. Check for the severity of the wounds and bruises; if it’s all superficial damage, spray with potion, clean up and move on with your day. Anything beyond cuts, punctures or abrasion of a certain depth, and it was recommended to put the patient in pokeball stasis and bring them to a center as soon as possible.
That was assuming the Pokemon was the one injured. Humans are often far less thick-skinned.
“Well, we don’t really have a choice, do we? I–I should be fine until we reach Iki Town. I’ll get some proper care then.” He motioned with a hand and winced. “Take care of Loa first.”
That was assuming that his stitches wouldn’t break as he walked. I brought out the stitching set out of the medkit and saw him grow pale.
None of us wanted this, but we didn’t exactly have a choice.
There was a flash of red and I heard the cry of Stella the Cleffa after being released from her pokeball. She immediately fussed over her worn-looking trainer, Lilliane taking deep, deep breaths and trying to center herself.
She laid a hand on my shoulder, and steeled her nerves. “I– I can do it, Selene.” She turned her attention to Hau next. “Hau, Stella and I have not done this in over a year, but we’ve been trained in pulse-assisted care.”
Wait, she has?
The next step after basic first aid was pulse-assist – any kind of medical care performed by a human professional and involving a Pokemon healing Move. Healing Moves were not magic, I had been told; they did not heal battle damage out of nowhere – there was often a drawback, or some sort of guidance or expertise needed for the cells to regenerate properly. It was forbidden for trainers to use certain types of healing moves without a specific license, especially those that healed someone else.
The teen boy didn’t share my appreciation, almost shooting off his seat in surprise. “Well, shit! Why didn’t you say so before?”
“...Hau, my Kalosian license doesn’t actually extend to Alola. I was taught only to treat little nicks and hurts, not a bleeding wound.” Lilliane wrung her hands in worry. “Stella and I could probably help – we could also do a lot more wrong. What if we mess this up?”
He raised the arm he wasn’t holding against his cut and laid his hand on her arm. “If there’s anybody I would trust to do this, it’d be you. Pulse me– uh, pulse her first. Or pulse me first if you need a practice dummy.”
The next few minutes happened in restful silence.
Lilliane retrieved a separate medicine kit and some sort of field manual from within her own Sylph handbag. Carefully, Stella and Lilliane removed Loa’s bandages and cleaned up her wounds with water. Loa’s only response were slight winces, trying to avoid eye contact.
Her anger seemed drained out of her.
Methodically, Lilliane poured some sort of ointment from a bottle– Stella rose her hands, and the ointment started to float in mid-air, snaking its way over Loa’s wounds and draping itself over the large cut like a veil.
Hau looked over the procedure with a concerned eye. His cowed Pokemon sighed as the flesh began to close before her very eyes. She glanced towards Hau and their eyes locked.
“Loa of Mauna Kea, I– I’m no good at this sort of stuff,” he blurted out. Mauna Kea, one of the smallest Incineroar colonies. “I was so– so fucking scared. I’m so glad that you’re safe.”
Her eyes drifted to Hau’s own wounds and quickly looked away in shame. Lilliane tutted and Loa stopped wiggling. Hau chuckled and winced. “Yeah– that thing did a number on both of us, didn’t it? I don’t know if we’re strong enough to handle Fearows on the regular. But we’ll get there.”
She looked away, disbelieving.
“I’m serious.”
A bit of silence followed. Lilliane instructed Loa to get on her flank, and she obeyed.
“You know, I see Grandpa’s Hariyama train up the little local Makuhitas from time to time,” he began wistfully. “He’s a harsh teacher. They group up in a class of a dozen students or so, and they’re at it for hours at a time. Sometimes they figure out their moves immediately, sometimes they’re having an awful time with the beginner katas and they keep tripping off their feet. But they keep getting up– because that’s what they’re passionate about, and– I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I think they were also lucky to have a good teacher.”
“I don’t know what happened in your past, Loa… but I can tell it’s weighing heavy on your mind. Maybe you didn’t have a gentle hand to help you, then. I know talking about it between us is gonna be difficult, and I’m not gonna force it – but whatever it was that happened, it’s not your fault.”
A war of emotions passed between Loa’s eyes. She shook it out, growled and glared at Hau in indignation. He straightened his back and returned the glare tenfold.
“Hey! Don’t give me the stink eye!! I’m serious about this. You’re serious and crazy determined, Loa. And I can’t speak for your previous trainer, but I know you did your best then.”
Her nuzzle morphed into a pout and she looked away. Hau maintained the stare still.
“Lemme put it this way–” Hau lifted up an arm and gestured to the exit. “Loa, is that what you want? Is that what you stand for? Run off in the woods and train on your own? Get yourself killed?”
Anger flashed across her face, then shame, and finally resignation. She deflated and only gave a tired shake of the head.
“Then we’re going to keep training, simple as that.” He gave off a heavy sigh. “You and I– we don’t work or think the same way at all. But I don’t want that to stop us from being a team. I’m too optimistic and you’re too stuck in your negative emotions. That’s our weakness. Let’s learn how to surpass it.”
Tentatively, wordlessly, Loa responded with a nod.
From the corner of my eye, I could see a smile finally settling on Lilliane’s face. As she and Stella listened, they finished their work on Loa’s wounds; and a faint layer of sensitive scar tissue had been woven over the cuts.
Lilliane moved to tend to Hau next, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Hey before you get to me, there’s something I gotta do. Can you get my bag for me?”
“Hau, I do think we should get to you as soon as possible–”
“This will take just a minute, I promise. It’s important. It’s– it’s the thing we worked on together,” he said to Lilliane, and she relented. He moved to get up and knelt down to Loa’s side. Lilliane and Stella helped him up, though I could see that they didn’t approve.
A silence settled over our den.
The piece of fabric that he retrieved from his bag was colorful. A woven sleeve of red fabric, embroidered in geometric symbols of earthy colors, with two straps to tighten it securely. He presented it forward to her, and I watched as her eyes grew big as dinner plates, pure surprise on her face.
“Loa of the southern tribe, Mauna Kea, the trials of life have been harsh to you. They will continue to be harsher still, and you will rise to the occasion with bravery and pride. You enter the age of maturity.”
She looked at the armband with shock, then back at Hau, eyes still wide. She rose a paw and stretched her arm forward.
Hau slipped the armband on her until it reached her shoulder and secured it.
Loa looked down at her arm where the armband rested, disbelieving. Tears brimmed at the corner of her eyes.
“You make your own choices, now. My responsibility as a trainer is to help you become your best self– your own self. What will that be?”