“Your head took off rather fast.” Holt comments, readying Karlos’ office for our one-on-one.

“I think seeing my grandparents made him want to go see his own family," I reply. "His wife will be happy… if she can manage to pry their kids off him."

Holt gives a genuine smile, “I don’t know if I should feel bad for her or happy. Two children, and her husband is working ninety percent of the time. Of course,” She gestures to the room we’re in, “He’s doing well enough to support them, and it’s not like he doesn’t do what he can.”

That makes me give Holt a questioning eyebrow, “How much is in those files, exactly?”

The woman's smile turns knowing, "Wouldn't you like to know? And on that subject," She finally sits behind the desk, "We can get started." Holt sets a small stack of papers on the desk between us, "To start, please read through this and point out any inaccuracies you find.”

This is a strange start, the two other reviews I’ve been through went very differently. Picking up the papers, I can immediately tell they’re records from when I was in the Ranger Academy. Which prompts the question, "Why? If you're allowed to answer."

“We’ve already found issues with some of our current Ranger’s school records. Minor ones, but we need to check.” Holt says, moving to look at another paper. Right, just to check, sure.

Well, It doesn’t take me long to read through them, both of us remaining silent throughout.

Setting the records down, I can’t help tapping the desk a few times with a finger, “I see.” I say, mind turning over. “To start with, my weight was wrong, and Weaver followed me back to the academy on the second, not the ninth.”

“Really?” Holt asks. “Nothing else? No defending yourself?”

“I did the right thing. Weaver thinks I did the right thing. And the Union does too, or I wouldn’t be sitting here.” I flatly state.

The corners of Holt’s mouth twitch up slightly, “I won’t disagree.” She steeples her fingers, “It does read as a glaring black dot on an otherwise rather normal academy record, however. Of course, the Hia Valley base has their own record of various incidents during ‘hazing,’ so it’s rather par for the course overall.” The Union-Ranger leans back, “Still, you do seem to have a record of resorting to violence when humans are involved. Though, you’ve also never done more than inflict mild injury.”

“I’m aware of how badly I could hurt someone.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Holt sighs, “I understand the urge to strike with force, especially when there’s an injured pokemon nearby.” She looks at another set of papers for a second. “I know you’ve had this talk before, so let’s move on. After you graduated you specifically requested not to be placed at Hia Valley, which is understandable. And, Though you were originally slated to be placed at the Boyleland base, you were instead placed here to accommodate your partner, correct?”

“That all sounds accurate," I say, realizing what’s going on. She isn’t the one who normally handles our files and she hadn’t finished reading through them, so she's still trying to familiarize herself with them. Or rather, us.

“Good, now let’s see…” The older woman says, rifling through the tabs on a folder. “Ah yes, here.” She continues, now pulling a small set out. “Tell me, did you know the Sienna government had you listed as a security risk as soon as you were granted a student visa?”

I can’t help sighing, though I do resist the urge to roll my eyes, “No, but I’m betting they do that to any Kanto native.” What with the various clans' proclivities for spying.

“You’d win that bet.” Holt chuckles. “But don’t worry about me thinking that,” She says, eyes moving back over what she’s holding. “Hmm, how did you end up applying for the Ranger Academy? That’s not on here.” She asks, still looking at what is now clearly a breakdown of my background.

“Luck?” I hazard. “I worked up the nerve to apply one day because I thought ‘Just mail in the application, it’s not like you’ll get picked.’” I laugh at the memory, “I wasn’t looking forward to being a secretary or worse, a housewife for the rest of my life.”

My superior looks confused for a second before she seems to remember that we're talking about Kanto. And that traditional doesn't even begin to cover its social climate about everything.

“Right, explains the cooking skills.” She murmurs, pulling out a pen and noting something. “And now I’m wondering how you came to have that opinion of your home country?” Holt half asks, looking back up at me.

That honestly makes me smile a bit, "You just met them. They made sure I wouldn't blindly accept rhetoric.” I lean back, resting the side of my head against a hand, “I didn’t realize everything they’d done for me until after I’d left, it’s easy to notice it all, in hindsight.”

Holt nods, clearly thinking there’s more to it as she shuffles many of the documents back into their folder before inspecting another one. “Oh, that. Do you recognize this?” She asks handing me the pap- picture.

Looking it over, I'm very familiar with the image, though not the sheer quality of it. And there’s something about the background…

“Why are you asking about this?” I ask looking up at Holt.

“There’s going to be a foreign researcher near her soon, and you’ve looked into her yourself. So?” Holt replies, eyes uncomfortably intense.

“Yeah, I've seen this before," I say, looking back down at the photo. It’s black and white, probably re-developed from the original material. And it shows what happened to the last logging crew that entered Vien Forest. “Do you mind if I keep this picture?”

Holt thinks for a second, “…Sure, I’ll get it to you before I head back to the Union. But my point,” She says, tapping the desk, “Is we don’t need something like that happening to Rowan when he gets here, so he will have an escort because he is definitely going to take a look at The Marshal while he’s here, no matter what we tell him.”

I nod, handing the photo back, “Yeah, that sounds…” Wait, Rowan? “Rowan is coming here? Himself?” I can’t help asking.

“As far as he’s told us, yes.” Holt nods, reaching a hand up to rub her forehead. “He won’t be like most people, thank Holy Sinnoh, but we don’t need any kind of bad press from him being hurt right now.” Holt sits like that a moment longer, then brings herself back on track, “Right, sorry. I just need to let you all know that before I leave, and you have a good relationship with the alpha. Now,” Holt picks up what looks like a performance report, “I just need to finish reading through some of these, give me a few minutes.”

It's quiet for several minutes while Holt looks over the last few things, and I find myself trying to read small snippets of what is scattered on the desk. I've seen Karlos' signature more than once.

“Okay,” Holt says, breaking the silence as she sets the last paper down, “It seems you’ve had an excellent record, in my opinion. High quest clear-rate, no FUBAR missions, your personal reports seem accurate and readable, registrations are mostly up to date but you have a few days leeway for that, and you evidently have a good relationship with your first partner.” She says, looking at another document. “And even providing aid to other bases. Which, I remind you, you are not obligated to do without an official request.” She nods again. “You’re one of our better rangers, overall.”

I blink, “That was the simplest review I’ve had.” I say, bemused.

The corners of her mouth twitch up slightly, “Your last review was only five months ago, and I don’t see any other new issues or sticking points. These are supposed to happen every two years after all.” Holt shakes her head, “This was only because of pressure from our government. I could go over all your reports since then if you want to?” She gives me an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I think we'd both rather not if I understand the situation correctly," I reply, giving her my own eyebrow back.

Holt nods, almost smiling again as she continues, “You do. And now we move on to why I'm actually sitting here. So, what the Union wants to know is how well our bases are operating, given the staffing shortage.” She leans forward in her chair, eyes locking onto mine, “So tell me, how well do you think you’re doing?”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

“How do you know where to move those?” Weaver asks as I continue to adjust the bunny ears on the CRT box.

“Practice,” I quip, finally getting the static as far gone as I can. “These were mostly out of style when I was growing up, but we still had one.”

Entirely unsurprisingly, TV shows are a thing here, and Weaver wanted me to see them too. Although it’s still hard to tell if her excitement is real or not, she is a really good actor.

“Great! Now watch this," She says, as she clicks a button on the front of the box and text appears on-screen.

“Captions? Please tell me this isn’t how you want to help me learn to read.” I groan, turning my eyes on her.

“No? Someone will need to find the tapes if we want to do that.” Weaver responds with a shrug.

“And we can’t just try a book?”

“I can’t make the noises,” Weaver says sadly, sitting down in front of the TV. “And I’ve tried. A lot.”

That doesn’t bode well for future communication, but that’s also why I’ve chosen text as my first attempt.

deciding to take her explanation at face value, I turn to the TV. “So… what are we watching then?” I ask. It looks like your typical, if old-fashioned, news desk.

Weaver cocks her head for a moment, watching the screen, “Something from Sinnoh. It looks like a news break right now, though.” She nods.

“Anything interesting?” I ask her, inspecting the captions. They’re blocky, being captions on an analog TV, and I don’t recognize the symbols. Weaver mentioned Sinnohan last night, so I’m guessing that’s what this is.

“Not really… apparently, the next tournament season starts in two weeks, but I think it's too late for anything important. It's still snowing a lot there, though.” Weaver sounds almost wistful with those last words.

“I’m almost afraid to ask…” I hesitate, glancing at her.

“There was always snow, where I was born," Weaver says distantly. “I haven’t been there in years.”

“It snowed a lot where I grew up too.” I empathize, letting the nostalgia from making snowmen and igloos wash over me. “Only In the winter, but there hasn’t- hadn’t been as much recently.”

Weaver blinks, then turns to look at me, “Are you trying to comfort me?” She asks.

"Maybe, I'm not all that sure." I shrug.

She shrugs back, “Well, I won’t complain about it. Thanks, Smokey.”

Further conversation is stalled by the TV changing programs. The screen now showing what looks like a typical, small, home-styled set, complete with a man, woman, and a lopunny.

That’s… a very fluffy, very large, and oddly bipedal rabbit. They aren’t standing or moving like the one I’ve seen in the forest, interestingly enough. Otherwise, though, I don’t know how invested I can get in this show without being able to understand anything.

“So, what is this?” I ask a now frowning Weaver.

“Not what I was expecting…” She replies, staring at the screen. “I think it’s new.”

“What were you expecting?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“‘Private Detective: Bolt.’” Weaver shrugs. “It’s fun, seeing him solve things.” She taps her chin in thought, “It’s normally on around now.”

“We could try…” I trail off as the humming feeling I haven't truly been able to ignore moves from where it had been sitting one door down the hall. Turning, I’m in time to see th- Espeon poke his head around the doorway.

“I-” Espeon falters for a moment, glancing at me. “Weaver, do you know what the humans did with my pokeball?” He asks. His voice is surprisingly young-sounding, but it’s almost a monotone.

Weaver, who had followed my motion, scrunches her face up a bit, “Let me think… Broke it down, most likely. Or tossed it in storage for now, why?” She asks.

There’s a brief instant where something flashes across Espeon’s face, but it’s gone before I can tell what. “Idle curiosity.” He says, stepping past the door and farther down the hall.

“Do you have any kind of read on him?” Weaver asks in a low voice once the other pokemon is far out of sight.

“No? I’ve only seen him twice, and it’s not like-” …That is strange, now that I think of it. "He's not shedding emotions," I tell Weaver. "I mean, you don't either, but I'm starting to think that’s because you’re dark-type.” Something strikes me about her question, “Why did you want to know?”

Weaver glances at me, “Ryu just adopted him earlier today.” She says, looking back at the doorway. “There’s something wrong with him and I can’t quite figure it out.” She sits there thinking for a bit, tapping a claw to her chin before she seems to have a light-bulb moment. “You,” She says, pointing at me, “Can get a better look at him, right?”

“Yeah…” I slowly say. “And you want me to?”

“Please?” Weaver cocks her head. “I’ll teach you to read?”

“You already said you would, though,” I say flatly, prompting my friend to stick her tongue out at me. “Sure, I’ll take a look.” I chuckle, beginning to phase out.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Weaver beams as she fades from sight.

Okay, let's see. Casting my gaze around, it quickly lands on… Well, that has to be Espeon, but he sure looks different than other things here.

Unlike other pokemon I’ve seen so far, Espeon looks almost solid himself, instead of a ball of not-light with a vague shape inside. He looks like a shining statue made of colors, with transparent skin and solid sections both inside and around him, almost like armor. The most striking part about his appearance, however, is in his forehead. That red gem isn't a gem here, it's a bright ____ eye, screwed up in concentration.

It’s easy to see what he’s concentrating on, too. For starters, he is, in fact, shedding more emotions than I've seen even humans do, they just aren't leaving his orbit. Instead, they’re being… sorted, I think, and forced into shapes that are tethered to him, floating along behind.

I have no real idea what he’s doing, but it’s probably real psychic power. …I need to practice more and start experimenting.

What is he doing? Not with his emotions, but in the real world. He’s looking back and forth over… Isn’t that where Weaver said the storage room was?

Shaking myself, I transition back to actual-space and see Weaver changing the channel on the TV.

“See anything neat?” She asks, glancing at me.

“Yeah,” I say, still trying to figure it out, “He’s doing something with his emotions.”

Weaver rolls her eyes, “I could have told you that just with the way he's acting," She sighs. "What was he doing to them, though?” She asks, turning to face me.

“Uh, sorting and storing them, I think," I tell her. “He was shedding a lot, though. And I mean a lot, almost as much as two humans put together.”

“Mmm," Weaver combs her claws down an ear-feather, thinking. “Is that unusual?” She asks after a moment.

“I have no idea,” I say, glancing back in the direction Espeon had been in. “He’s a lot more defined than most people.”

“Defined?” Weaver asks with a head tilt.

“Uh,” I say, looking for the right way to put it. “So, most pokemon look like spheres of color that give off not-light, with their actual shape somewhere inside." I say, gesturing vaguely, "You're extremely hard to see at all, and I need to be looking to find your silhouette. Most humans are… uncomfortable to look at-"

“Why?” Weaver cuts me off, genuine seeming curiosity in her tone.

“I'm pretty sure it has to do with how their 'light' doesn't even cover their entire bodies, but I don't know why," I explain.

"Okay, but just a few minutes ago you said that 'Maeve' human was very bright?" She asks, tilting her head in the other direction.

"I also said 'most humans.'" I point out. "The Rangers aren't like that either."

“Huh.” Weaver looks at the floor for a moment. “Uh, right. What makes Espeon so different then?” She asks, looking back at me.

“Well… like I said, he’s defined. He’s not just a sphere around a silhouette but an actual shape with limbs, a tail, and a head. Even an eye.”

“Ah. And as you said,” Weaver nods, “You don’t know if that’s normal for a psychic,” She says, running her claws through her fur in that weird cat-like way again.

“Yeah.”

We fall silent, and that leaves me with the uncomfortable truth that I really, really want to get at those shapes. I know it’s probably a ghost-type instinct, but it’s still a bit unsettling. Although, they’re shed emotions, right? Why is he collecting them?

…Maybe because if he doesn’t they’ll just drift back into his orbit. And since he’s a real psychic I imagine he’d be sensiti-

“Hey, need you moving, Smokey.” Weaver pokes me. Again.

“Sorry. What is it?” I ask the weasel, glancing around.

Weaver grins wide, gesturing at the TV, “Lily of the Valley recap.”

“Um… I have no idea what that is?” I say, glancing between Weaver and the screen.

Weaver gives me a blank look, “It never happened in your weird games-shows-things?” She asks, actually looking a bit sad.

“I wasn't all that into the shows. Or the game's stories, either.” I admit. “The last movie I watched involved a lucario trapped in staff, I think? It’s a bit fuzzy.” A half-truth, in all honesty, since I do remember the staff-scene fairly well. It’s odd, the way some of my memories hadn’t degraded.

“Oh.” Weaver seems a bit unsure. “Okay. Well, it’s a big festival with lots of competitions and an elite tournament. It’s fun to watch live, and I’m pretty sure they’re doing the recap because the new season’s coming up…” She explains, looking back at the TV. “I thought you’d like to see it.”

…I don't think she's pretending right now. She genuinely is getting sad at the thought I might not want to see something she clearly enjoys.

“I didn't say I don't want to watch," I say, trying to be reassuring. “I just didn’t know what it was. Though I still won’t understand anything being said.”

Weaver blinks, then grins, “It’ll be obvious, trust me.”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

“We still need to tell her at some point, Liam.” My love continues her effusive—for her—requests, easing herself onto the hotel bed. “Finn and Killian, and even the rest of their children I understand, they’re normal humans. But you saw Ryuko, I certainly felt her, she’s different now. And she’s an adult, one sworn to protect pokemon, she’d understand.”

Maeve is right, of course. And I know she’s right, but, “That doesn’t change the fact we’ve been lying to her her whole life.” I point out again. “I agree we should tell her, but we need to find a time and place. She’s going to have questions.”

Maeve leans back in the bed, sighing. “She still thinks you’re her real-” Maeve pauses, “Sorry, you are her real grandfather. What I meant was, she thinks you’re her biological one.”

“Human languages remain such fascinating things," I say, getting a pillow halfheartedly thrown at myself for the effort. “You can always speak true if you wish.” I tease her a moment longer, before returning to the issue at hand. “I’m not even certain that she won’t learn on her own, soon enough.”

“That weavile…” Maeve groans, “She made how you were as a zorua look tame.”

“I appreciated that about her. And the personal sentiment.” I inform my wife, who makes a tutting sound at me. “I'm entirely certain she will put Ryu's health before her own, it speaks well of both of them.”

“I know.” Maeve sighs, though a smile graces her face, "It's reassuring if nothing else. But a sneasel… I don’t know where that girl gets it from.”

It’s my turn to smile, as I know exactly who our granddaughter gained her nature from. The woman has always had a way with us.

“How do you think she’d react if we simply invited her to our home and I happened to… forget to apply my façade?”

Maeve puts a hand to her face, eyes rolling, but she can’t hide her amusement at the thought. “And we just kept acting as if nothing were strange? It would be a fun way to do it, but we definitely shouldn’t. Would she even know what you are?”

“I don't believe so, no," I say, curling myself into the bed beside Maeve. "At the very least, I don't believe the world at large knows of our existence yet. Though she might have access to things most don’t.”

“Summer, when the load on Ryuko eases," Maeve states after another moment’s thought. “We need to plan how to do it before then.”

And so it is decided. It almost makes me wish Maeve brought Kiera with us, the reniclus always having had the ability to maneuver a situation. Alas, her lust for battle led her to our son, Finn.

The feeling of Maeve’s fingers running through my mane signals the end of the discussion, it is after all, time for her to sleep.

“Tomorrow will be busy,” Maeve muses, “There’s quite a bit to do around here.”

"By design, I suspect," I whisper back to her, sending a pulse of energy to flip the light switch, Bathing the room in comfortable darkness. "Do sleep well."

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

Where was this kind of thing in my old world? It’s mesmerizing, even just the clips that were shown… Wow. The fact that I know it’s all real made even the low-fidelity broadcast so much more.

There were a few people highlighted with a talent-show type thing. One was a dancer with a team of birds and I honestly think the TV made it less impressive than it should have been since everything was reduced to visual noise. There was a guy making music with his two raichu only using electricity, that was pretty cool. Another was a woman doing a whole fight-choreography thing with six pokemon, all machoke. The last one though, and the one the recap held on the longest, really caught my attention.

I can even understand why they held on him for so long since ghost-types are seemingly so rare. The man had done a truly jaw-dropping fire show with a lampent. Even through a screen, my first time seeing another ghost felt odd, and It took me a bit to realize it was the way it moved that was bothering me. Maybe it’s just my own bias, but bobbing around like that isn’t fun. …on third thought, yeah, that’s just me preferring smooth motions. Still, it made me wonder if I’d ever get to meet another ghost.

Probably a matter of time, when I think about it.

All of that was swiftly swept aside when the battles were shown, though.

Oh my fuck, the battles. They only showed three, but these are what was held on the longest, with good reason too.

Watching a garchomp go head-to-head with an aggron… Damn. That fight ended with the garchomp being thrown out of the arena when the steel-type—who had been losing—hurled its entire weight at the dragon, both of them shining in swirls of power.

And a crawdaunt masterfully dodging everything the giant spider kept throwing at it, all the while firing very familiar-looking beams of water from its claws? That’s just plain cool.

And then seeing that same aggron from before tank fucking lightning, the ampharos fighting it calling down what can only be called an excessively biblical amount of the stuff. Which still wasn’t enough, the aggron taking the fight literally one step at a time until the arena exploded. The ground erupting spectacularly.

Amazing.

I’d be disappointed that it cut back to a studio broadcast if I weren’t still running the whole thing over in my head.

“That happens every year?” I ask as Weaver keeps flipping through channels.

“Around mid-Autumn, yeah.” She responds, seemingly deciding the TV isn’t worth flipping through anymore as she turns it off. “I’m hoping I can get Ryuko to take me at some point.” Then she flicks an ear, “You know,” Weaver turns to the bookshelf, tapping her chin in thought, “Maybe I should go look for those tapes myself.”

“Uh, yeah. Not to sound ungrateful but that is half the reason I-” I cut myself off as I feel Espeon bolt from one side of the building to right back in front of the next door down.

Weaver and I share a look, “Any idea what that’s about?” My semi-feline friend asks.

“What did you say was through that-” I scan my memory and want to slap myself. “He’s standing in front of the office door, so I’m going to assume he knows something we don’t.”

“Ryuko is probably done with whatever they had to talk about.” Weaver assesses. “And I’m hoping Espeon isn’t just using Ryu for some psychic thing.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You haven’t been watching them, but he changes when he gets near her," Weaver murmurs. “Come to think of it, there was supposed to be some stuff on espeons Katie left around here.” She continues, eyes narrowing as she looks around.

As Weaver locks onto a stack of papers left on the only table in the room, there’s a yelp and my eyes move back to the doorway, landing on a blonde, red-eyed woman in plain pajamas. “Oh hey, there she is.” Weaver’s voice is flat, but glancing at her I can see she’s smirking even as she grabs the papers.

There's some shock and surprise but no fear as the apparent 'Katie' pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering, "Too damned tired for this." Then louder, "Weaver, you know you’re not supposed to bring wilds in here, right?”

“To be frank, we don't know the natural range of any ghost-types.” Says the voice that caught me off guard earlier as Onaga steps into view around the blonde woman. “Eight kilometers isn’t even that large of a range for most scavengers. Or predators.”

“You’re saying the base is in her… its- whatever, the ghost’s normal range?” The person I’m still going to assume is Katie until proven otherwise asks, looking to her right.

Onaga has a concerningly similar smirk on her face to another I’ve seen a lot recently as she steps into the room, followed directly by Espeon. “She’s saying that we don’t know what a ‘normal’ range is, but we’re fairly certain the true-ghosts can fall under the definition of both predator and scavenger.” The ranger says, walking over to Weaver.

“And beyond that,” Says the ranger I don’t have a name for, stepping into view, “How would we stop something invisible that can move through solid matter? Without resorting to guard pokemon, I mean.”

Katie stares at the other woman blankly for maybe a bit too long, slowly blinking several times before she throws her hands up, “Okay, whatever. I haven’t slept enough for this and I need to wake up enough before things start happening.” She half grumbles, trudging up the corridor.

The unnamed ranger—who I just noticed has quite a few chevrons and a globe on her sleeve—watches the blonde leave with a thoughtful look on her face. “You weren’t exaggerating.” She says after long enough that I’m pretty sure Katie left the hall. “You said both of them are hitting their limit?”

“Yeah.” Responds Onaga, with a frown. “Tonight's probably a bit worse for her than normal, but she obviously liked having a third operator. Barry’s doing a better job of keeping a lid on it, but I’ve known him long enough to read the signs.”

The other ranger nods, “I imagine that’s going to be a common theme through most bases.” She sighs, “Well, we’ll see what the Union does to try and fix it soon enough. I’m going to go check on Blake before heading back to the local police.” She starts moving down the hall, “You have a good rest of your night,” She calls.

Turning myself back to the others in the room, I see Weaver reading through whatever she found with a look of bewilderment on her face. Onaga and Espeon on the other hand, are looking at me. The ranger with curiosity, if the taste is anything to go by.

“Stop doing that.” Espeon suddenly says with authority, prompting Onaga to look at him. He hunches down when she does.

“I don’t think they can help it, Patchy.” Weaver comments, then frowns as she glances at Espeon, “Maybe Patches works better? Eh, I’ll think about it, but you can’t think Charlie is worse than me.”

Espeon doesn’t respond, simply turning his eyes on Onaga before his ears droop at her expression. The woman is concerned, probably for him, her brow furrowed.

Then she glances at me again before looking at Weaver, "As much as I'm sure you like having a friend over, they shouldn't be here overnight, okay?" At the dark weasel's distracted nod, Onaga nods back, "Right, it's getting late and I still need a shower. You three have fun. And you,” The ranger points at Weaver, “Try to Make Espeon feel welcome.” With that said, She stalks—and it is a stalk—out of the room.

Weaver sighs, putting the stack of papers down, “So, You’re not messing with Ryuko, are you?” She asks the lilac cat.

“Me? Why aren’t you asking them?” He retorts, pointing a paw at me.

Instead of responding herself, Weaver just raises an eyebrow. At me.

Okay then, if that’s how she wants it. “Because I was up-front about what I eat, and that I’m only taking cast-offs after the fact. And probably because I’ve shared some sensitive things with her, too.” The cat’s eyes widen a bit when I say ‘eat’.

Weaver makes a there-you-have-it gesture at me, “Charlie made an effort to be friendly, even if they’re weird about some things,” She tells the psychic. “And they don’t seem like they’re purposefully avoiding something. Anymore.”

Espeon stares at Weaver, he almost looks uncomprehending, “I see. And no, I’m not doing anything to the human.” The monotone is back.

“Good!” Weaver smiles. “So what are you doing, then?”

Espeon is silent for a long moment, “Nothing,” He says, and I almost want to roll my eyes as he gives us a blank look.

Never mind, I do roll my eyes, “Okay, sure. Anyway,” I say, turning to Weaver, “You mind if I head out? Because this has been fun, but I’ve been avoiding things I need to think about.”

The pokemon I’m addressing gives me a questioning look, before glancing between Espeon and me. Then she shrugs, “You go do your thing, Smokey. I’ve got to take care of him anyway.” She says, prompting Espeon to focus on her.

“I can take care of myself.” He… insists? I can’t tell.

“Uh-huh." Weaver remains unconvinced. "Ryu asked all the wrong questions earlier. Have you ever even had to hunt for yourself?” Weaver asks him.

“…No,” Espeon admits, slowly.

Weaver waves an arm at me in a shooing motion as she struts past Espeon to the door, “Right, Ryuko asked me to make you feel welcome, so come on.”

That seems to surprise the three-eyed cat, as he blinks a few times before cautiously stepping after the feathered feline. Leaving me alone in the room.

I can see a bit of what Weaver meant about Espeon now. He’s odd, and I can definitely tell what she meant by ‘he changes.’

Anyway, I orient myself in the general direction of my house and drift up and out through the wall.

It’s past time to think about some things.