Time continues to feel strange now, although I think I’m getting used to it. Still, not feeling tired or hungry in the ways I used to makes it hard to keep track of how long things take, hours passing without my noticing.

At least I’m getting better at reading Sinnohan. Not that I was all that focused on it last night.

To start with, I’m still not over the fact that one of the researchers is the Oak. Which– I just… He’s younger than me! How?

They had to leave after some introductions and explanations since they’d just arrived and had to sort things out, so the rest of the night was pretty normal. Although Onaga iterating and then reiterating that I’m not a pet or trainer’s pokemon was… something, I suppose.

Between glancing through some of the books here—most of which I’m fairly sure are fiction of various flavors—and idly drifting around thinking about what would happen today, last night went by quickly. And today’s been…

I mean, it started normally enough, just with the addition of two tired men watching me over their coffee and pastries. Onaga’s reaction to them was great, though. She didn’t. She completely ignored the two until she’d gone over the rough day-plan she always makes in the morning.

Of course, the commentary was something I could have done without, even if they probably didn’t know I could hear it. I shouldn’t be surprised that Oak and Rowan have tons of little observations about me, but some of them stung.

I’ve known for a while now that I can be… a bit unsettling, apparently. I’ve been using the bathroom mirrors to look at myself, and while I can see it, I can’t see it.

When most people call me creepy it’s banter, playful. When the two scientists do it, it’s by breaking down and describing how I come across as wrong somehow. Things like ‘The unnatural movements of the mane,’ ‘Interesting lack of resting motion,’ ‘See how the eyes are meant to capture focus,’ ‘The darkening effect is fascinating,’ and ‘Have you noticed the lack of blinking?’ all just casually tossed out. They’ve also been taking a lot of pictures of me, which is understandable, I guess, but still weird.

Thankfully, Rowan eventually changed the subject by asking Onaga if she could ‘have the pokemon return to their natural environment’ and ‘act as they normally would.’ Onaga told him to ask me, not her. And, to be fair to him, Rowan did turn to me and do exactly that while feeling very embarrassed, though he didn’t show it.

The man must be great at poker with how little his expressions change.

Anyway, what was I going to do? Say no? I’ve got effectively nothing else to do, save maybe following Onaga around. But she’s supposed to be following the scientists around so… yeah.

I thought about keeping my speed down as I was flying out here, but… well, they asked for natural, didn’t they?

Gave me a while to look around and think, at least. It looks like Leaf kept putting work into regrowing things, although it’s been a while since I came back here. The path to the lake is a bit more defined, I think Marshal’s been using it more, probably checking if I was here. With the sun bathing the clearing, the familiar sight of grass-types gathering at the north end makes me smile. Especially when a few of them dance or nod at me.

I bob back, acknowledging the gestures.

I’m definitely distracting myself, but I’d call it both justified and needed.

What even is a normal day for me, out here? Hmm… Practice, Marshal, checking in with the neighbors, thinking about random things…

…Planning renovations.

I look back at the ruined cabin. Maybe I should make this my hobby project for now… The foundation still looks intact, though I’ll want to look underground again to be sure, and I think I’ll be able to secure new anchors and beams to it easily enough.

I’ve only made two promises to myself since waking up here, the first that I’d see my family and friends again, and the second that I’d fix this place. I shouldn’t let its collapse stop that.

Ah, and my observers have arrived, oh good. I do my best not to acknowledge them, but they’re hard for me to miss. Pointed interest is practically pouring out of two of them, after all, and several of the gathered grass-types are a bit wary now.

Okay, calm thoughts. It’s hard to ignore the interest and curiosity coming from two of the humans, but the point is to not do that, I just need to acknowledge it and focus on everything else as well. Let the world wash over me…

Soon, I feel myself settle enough and let go of my psychic power, the energy flowing serenely without input.

Time to get to work. Let’s put the debris over there so I can get it out of the way. Hmm, and I might as well tear the hanging deck down soon. I don’t want it to fall on anybody when it finally gives out.

Moving the loose wreckage is rather easy—even the balcony putting up only minor resistance—psychic powers once again proving to be the best. I’m soon left with the remaining walls and destroyed flooring.

…That only took a few minutes. Now what? Do I tear it down to the foundation? Eventually, I will need to so I can rebuild, but I still don’t have new materials to work with. Should I draw up plans? I’m still mostly at the idea phase of those, though.

I’d been thinking mostly along the lines of fixing what was there, but since it all needs to come down I’m a bit more open in my options. I don’t need a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, anything like that. So, what do I need?

Ultimately, nothing. I don’t need shelter of any kind, so what do I want?

A closed stove, for that rustic cabin feeling. That’s a must, so I’ll need a main room for that. I like the balcony, as pointless as it is for me, so that’s getting rebuilt. Maybe a study or personal office? Not exactly private out here, without locks…

Hold on… I don’t need doors at all. I could make a private room by just not having a way in. Or… How would I get things in or out then?

As interesting an idea as a room without doors is, it’s neither practical nor appropriate for a cabin. A study will do.

Things to keep in mind for when I start rebuilding. Hmm, still, I can’t exactly move forward on this at all beyond tearing the rest of the building down. Maybe I should move on to something else…

Vocal practice is something I can’t—or more accurately, shouldn’t—do near the ranger base. Or the city. Or humans in general. On the other hand, I’m certain Weaver or Onaga will stop me if I get too loud, and I haven’t raised my voice since…

And there goes my psychic calm. At least I’m not questioning myself over it anymore.

I let myself drift to the ground, and realize another obvious problem with practicing my frankly horrifying vocal talent. Leaf clearly put work into growing everything here, I don’t want to tear it all up.

Idly messing with powers beyond mortal comprehension it is, then.

I still feel like I’m missing something important when it comes to ghost power, and I know to listen to that instinct, now, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m both ignorant and, especially on the wider scale, a child.

Let’s try to get that psychic calm back and see if it helps.

My eyes roam over the north end of the clearing again, taking in all the different pokemon before casting my gaze right. The humans are hidden, somewhat. Not to any pokemon, I suspect, but they’ve made an effort. Onaga’s even sitting cross-legged much farther back than the professors. Weaver is completely absent, though that’s just because she’s stealthy, I’m pretty sure Onaga can see her, with the way the woman’s eyes are moving.

I close my eyes, listening to the world I’m… happy to call home. The nearby cherrim and roselia talk about the weather very earnestly. The various bird-like and insect-like pokemon chatter just out of translation range. And today, the wind is silent. Not absent, just quiet.

I feel myself calm again and open my eyes.

Right, ghost stuff. I paint my will over the air in front of me, and ethereal, near-liquid power follows. It dissipates after a moment—I’m not sustaining it, and I didn’t imbue anything into it. That’s half of the puzzle, imbuing. Taking something I know, that I can feel, and putting it into the power, changing its properties. What’s the other half?

I manifest a cube of ghost-stuff onto the world this time, watching the swirling, impossible colors as I sustain it. I feel myself frown. I came up with the paint analogy weeks ago, when I first started trying to figure ghost stuff out, but… What if I was actually close, and I can change the color? …I don’t get any feedback from my instincts, though.

Letting the cube dissipate, I focus on a color—Mmm… ____, Marshal’s color, the one she radiates in not-space—and paint a sphere this time. Nope, still swirling, nameless colors. It was worth a shot.

What else can I try? Gravity has been my go-to for imbuing, but what if I changed it? I try to imagine the feeling of gravity moving left instead of down and put that into my next stroke. Oh, It worked! Not super surprising I suppose, but neat nonetheless.

Okay, think. What ghost-type moves can I remember from the games?

…

God-slash-Gods damn it past me. Why couldn’t you have focused more on ghost-types? And why do I clearly remember an emphasis on licking things?

Maybe I’m still thinking of this all wrong. Powers aren’t used in just one way, I know this from both my psychic and voice abilities. What if I need to apply the power to something else? Or… project it in some other way?

Marshal explained some things, but… What she’d said was ‘Th’ ones that are part of you flow better,’ and ‘ Since it’s part o’ you, treat it that way.’ Then she’d demonstrated by passing her hand through solid rock. Without resistance.

She’d done it by using the power on herself. So let’s try doing that. Where, though? My arms? …My mouth? I don’t have a lot of body to work with…

Hmm… My eyes? No, that’s–

Why does that feel right? Okay, sure, I’m not too concerned about hurting myself after Marshal’s reassurances. So… why not?

Let’s go with pushing ghost power into my eyes. And, best case? Eye lasers. Pick a good target… That tree, and go!

Hmm, nothing seems to… be…!

HOLY SHIT! STOP, STOP!

I– The tree– Wha– What the fuck?! I was joking about eye lasers!

Granted it wasn’t really a laser, but still… Where I’d been looking at on the tree has been withered away. Not quickly, but fast enough to be shocking. That wasn’t even the surprising part, that had been the swirls of color around where I’d been looking, as if– As if the world around it had been part of the unreal.

Not subtle. At all. And I get the feeling that it works exactly how I think it does, on whatever I’m looking at. Hmm, the lead time was weird, too, it took a few seconds for anything to happen.

I know pokemon can do terrifying things, but withering something away by looking at it? I can’t help the shudder that runs through me. Never ever using that on a person if I can help it.

And I still feel like I’m missing something obvious about ghost stuff.

…Do I even want to try this with the other powers at my disposal? I– I think I need to if only to know not to do it later.

Picking the same tree, I try with psychic power–

Ow. Instant fucking migraine. Maybe I should have done the calm thing again, first.

Very reminiscent of my first psychic blast, too. Which kind of goes against what Marshal told me about being able to tell when I’d hurt myself. Unless… this isn’t hurting myself.

You know what? Marshal’s not psychic, so I’ll have to ask Espe–

…I’m just going to chalk it up to something specific to psychic power and leave it at that.

Do I feel up to trying it with my third and final power, the one I use for my voice? Mmm… Hmm… Eh… Yes, unfortunately.

Same tree, different power, take three.

…

Is it working?

…

No strain. No visible effect at all, but I can feel the power flowing. Huh. Is it enhancing my vision? No… that’s my normal eyesight now. Wait, why…?

Oh, it’s making me scarier, isn’t it? I shut it down before sheepishly glancing at the pokemon near the northern treeline. I’m getting wary looks from the older ones, and all the young ones are huddling behind them.

“…Sorry,” I tell them, “I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

The largest of them, a roserade, takes stock for a moment before she replies, “It wasn’t aimed at anybody, and we are at the edge of your domain. Still, perhaps be more cautious in the future?”

I can’t do much more than nod at that. And I’m relieved when, after another moment, they all go back to swaying in the sun, just a bit more subdued now.

“Still being creepy, then?” Comes a quiet voice from the west side of my clearing. “And you’ve got humans watching you now, too?”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

It’s been enjoyable, just sitting here, playing with Weaver, or walking around a bit while Rowan and Ohkido watch Misdreavus. A bit− No, not thinking that word. Anyway, a bit that, but enjoyable.

Studies like this follow a pretty standard formula, introduce yourself and ask to observe the pokemon for a length of time—usually a few weeks to months—taking notes on their behavior and choices, then interview them. The idea is to not alter the pokemon’s actions or decisions with personal attachment or reactions to the questions.

You don’t want the pokemon questioning their motivations and actions while you study them, after all.

And it tends to work… decently, most of the time.

There have been instances where the pokemon being watched decided to start showing off, others where the researchers were attacked, and sometimes the pokemon tend to start questioning themselves during the process no matter what. Although, typically there also isn’t only one wild pokemon of the species, but that’s what happens when a pokemon is rare.

Trainers just can’t help themselves when the word ‘rare’ comes up.

Nobody’s ever captured a misdreavus, though. They vanish after only one or two encounters, and having seen Misdreavus actually vanish I think they just learn to hide.

A gasp from Ohkido gets my attention, and I march over to see why.

A leafeon? Oh, right, a leafeon. I was shocked the first time I saw a wild eevee here too, a glance at Rowan shows that his eyes are firmly on the living proof of Almian conservation efforts as well.

“I knew there was a stable population here…” Ohkido breathes, “But seeing one in the wild, it’s… I’m ashamed to say I never thought I would.”

“Eeveelutions are fairly common all across Almia,” I say, crouching to be at the same level as the two men.

“Eevee… lutions?” Rowan asks, raising a single, bushy eyebrow.

“An Almian term,” I say. “And proudly. They haven’t been hunted out of the wild here, so many consider eevee to be the state pokemon of Almia. Possibly the national pokemon of Sienna.”

I catch a flicker of actual emotion on Rowan’s face at that. Shame. It’s not his fault, of course, but the practice of capturing eevee as status symbols or ‘easy starters’—or worse, for their pelts—originated in Sinnoh. Now they sell for millions of credits on the black market, and tens-of-thousands from breeders.

All because they’re so adaptable and fluffy.

I look back at my fellow Kantonian to see Ohkido putting a camera down and picking up his rather well-worn sketchbook. There’s a very nice sketch of Misdreavus facing what’s likely meant to be the collapsed cabin that he flips away from, only to start sketching out Leafeon and Misdreavus talking.

“Is the misdreavus normally so social?” Rowan asks, and I hold in a sigh. At least he hasn’t called them an ‘it’.

“Yes, although they seem averse to interacting with humans,” I tell the man, focusing my attention back on the ghost-type. “I’m not sure why, but unless you interact with them first they tend not to engage.”

I watch as Misdreavus seems to explain something to Leafeon, indicating points on the ground and making sweeping gestures with multiple limbs.

Perhaps their behavior is due to their experiences around humans… Most that they’d have had before Weaver decided to rope them on were neutral at best and terrible at worst. However, when asked if they truly wanted to be a partner they did answer in the affirmative.

Maybe I should plan a team outing to try and make them feel like part of the group instead of an extra. I know Weaver’s been trying—and likely succeeding to a degree—to make both Misdreavus and Espeon welcome, but finding the time to do that myself has been a challenge.

“Vile weavile?” My partner asks, and I glance in her direction. She’s crouched in the exact same pose I am, face scrunched up in thought. I also find it mildly amusing that both Rowan and Ohkido started slightly at her voice.

“Yeah,” I reply, nodding at her. “Wondering what I can do for the two newbies. You know Espeon’s jealous of you?”

Weaver nods, hanging her head in defeat.

“From what I observed during my recent studies of espeon,” Ohkido speaks, smudging a piece of charcoal against his sketch, “They aren’t a very jealous species, overall. Though I assume there’s a story behind how you have one as a partner, given his clear age.”

“I won’t say anything beyond that he’s had a stressful few months,” I say, feeling my jaw clench at how Espeon had looked when I first saw him. “I’ve been hoping Weaver could translate eventually so I can know what actually happened to him.”

“Weavile are a good choice for written translations,” Rowan comments offhandedly, eyes still fixed on Misdreavus and Leafeon. “Though we have yet to translate anything the wild packs carve.”

I don’t miss the blank look Weaver gives the man, but she doesn’t say anything. I wonder if she even learned any of the local packs’ languages before she ran off to join me at the academy. She may have taken her time to learn how to read, but she’s picked writing up quickly enough.

“Oh, it appears the pokemon are moving,” Rowan says, carefully standing from where he’d been leaning over a stump.

I roll my eyes. There is zero possibility that every pokemon within a kilometer doesn’t know we’re here.

Looking back out over the clear space, Leafeon does seem to be leading Misdreavus somewhere North. Resigning myself to the fact that I’ll need to lead the way, I do just that.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

In hindsight, the attraction Leaf feels for me is… Obvious? But he seems to have come to some sort of breaking point and it all started flowing out of him as I was explaining my plans.

Now he’s leading me somewhere, and I really don’t know how to handle this.

I’m absolutely not ready to think about this right now, but I kind of need to. Disregarding literally everything else, I still don’t know what I find attractive. Humans are out, even the objectively attractive ones only striking me the way art would.

It does make me glad that I’m not feeling desire from Leaf, but still. I can’t get away from the fact that he likes me.

Fuck, I know I don’t fall under male or female at this point either so that just makes this more… Confusing? What does ‘amorphous reproduction’ even mean?

I don’t know! And even if I found Leaf attractive or liked him in that way, I’m not ready for any kind of intimate relationship. How do pokemon relationships even work? Asking Weaver or Marshal is going to be so awkward… Definitely Marshal, Weaver would milk the discomfort for all it’s worth.

I just don’t know what to say to him. He’s great, and he’s been… not welcoming, not at first, but once we got past that he’s been a friendly, quiet presence during my time in the forest. Sure, he’s a prickly, nervous wreck, but once you get him going he’s very genuine.

And to make things more confusing, I was straight before I died. But I have to say ‘was’ since I don’t think it applies anymore! THIS IS WHY I HAVEN’T BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS, ME! Doubly so because it makes me wonder—for the… twenty-fourth time—how much my body was and is affecting how I think.

And the answer keeps being ‘More than I’d like.’ Of course, it was the same when I was human, I just never needed to question it.

Whatever! Doesn’t matter right now. What should I do about Leaf?

It’s probably best if I just be honest with him, I do like him, as a friend. But he’s… Well, he’s got issues. He’s not a complete mess, but it’s easy to tell he’s mostly just going through the motions. Surviving for the sake of it.

Like I was, fuck.

I was not ready for this today.

It isn’t long until Leaf stops at… Oh. This is his home, isn’t it?

It’s a medium-sized tree that’s obviously been cultivated to grow into certain shapes. It’s low to the ground and very wide, pushing back the surrounding plant life to allow ample sun into the space. A large, flat rock near the trunk of the squat tree looks perfectly sized for the walking rosebush to sleep on, and there’s a dense tangle of vines growing off some oddly shaped branches that could probably provide cover if he needed it.

It’s clear he gives me time to take it in before speaking, “I… just wanted you to know where to look for me…” Oh no, he’s turning yellow. I can taste fear and wariness.

I’m not the best at reading– Okay, I’m pretty good at it, but the yellow blush, twitching tail, and very alert ears would be easy to read even if I couldn’t taste what he’s feeling.

He feels vulnerable, and I don’t know if I can handle this well.

“…Thank you, Leaf,” I decide to say. “Although I know there’s more.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” He murmurs, “And last time we talked I realized that I…” He glances at me, “You already know, I suppose.”

I still get the urge to breathe, sometimes, and this is one of those times. I want to take a deep breath and steady myself, but that can’t happen, so I just say, “Yeah.” A moment passes where Leaf grows increasingly anxious before I figure out how to continue, “I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to feel about this.”

That clearly hurt, but I think he was ready for something like it. I continue, trying to give him context, “I… didn’t die under the best circumstances and I can’t see myself finding someone anytime soon,” I say. Again, I taste a bit of pain, though this time with some acceptance as he nods. “Beyond that, I still need to figure myself out again.” Or at all, but I don’t say that part.

“So… no?” He tentatively asks, not looking at me. He’s bracing himself, shit.

“I’m saying I can’t say anything,” I explain. “I’m sorry, but I’m just not ready to deal with, or really even think about this right now.” I sigh, “Leaf, I died a month ago. To my old lover, no less. I…” Need to think about this for a second. Hmm… “Don’t mind how you feel towards me, I’m just not ready to consider anything along those lines. I was freaking out on the way here because I didn’t and still don’t know what to think or how to say it without hurting you. Because I like you, you’re a good friend.”

Leaf silently thinks about all that. And, unfortunately, his anxiety spikes as he shrinks in on himself, “Sorry,” He mumbles, “I didn’t think about…”

What? Shit, what did I say–

Fuck! Damage control! “No, don’t feel bad about that. I never told you, that’s not your fault. So please don’t start thinking you should have known. You couldn’t have.”

There’s a long, tense few seconds where Leaf looks anywhere but at me before he accepts my words. His anxiety doesn’t recede, but I do taste some relief, “You’re not going to stop talking to me?”

Of course that’s what he’s worried about. I almost ask what kind of person he thinks I am, but I stop myself just in time. “Leaf, this isn’t the most awkward thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s pretty high up, sure, but not worth losing a friend over.”

Leaf flops limply to the ground, sighing, “I was afraid you’d think I was too forward, and leave. And… sorry about–” He cuts himself off, “Yeah, sorry.”

I almost laugh. Leaf liking me through a species difference has nothing on how weird my life feels at times. I even get why he started feeling this way since, while most other pokemon around here are friendly enough, he really doesn’t have a lot of friends. Maya, the grotles, and myself, that’s it. That’s the extent of his social circle.

Not that I can talk, mine’s not much bigger, it just has different people in it.

That’s an idea… I turn to face where the three humans and one weavile are watching from, “Hey, Weaver. You think–”

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

“I’m admittedly not very knowledgeable about leafeon,” Rowan says as we watch said leafeon have an obviously emotional conversation with Misdreavus. “What are they both doing?”

Ohkido and I both try to answer at once and after a second of us both checking if the other will start again, I gesture to the man.

“Leafeon are, along with glaceon, the most territorial of the eevee line,” He begins, and I nod along. “For leafeon, leading another pokemon to the center of their territory is typically a courtship gesture, though it could simply be a sign of trust as well.”

Not with the way Weaver is watching the whole thing, it’s not. She’s been wide-eyed for a bit now in a display of genuine interest that she normally wouldn’t show.

“They can’t possibly share a breeding group,” Rowan murmurs, stroking his mustache, “Although if they somehow did it may explain where the misdreavus came from. If, say, another misdreavus happened to mate with a local eevee…”

“The breeding groups for eevee do differ based on evolution,” Ohkido nods, “So it’s entirely possible. Though I think that disregards the possibility of another pokemon being compatible in that scenario.”

“An excellent–”

Rowan is interrupted by Misdreavus suddenly increasing in volume, “Misser, mis. Misdreavus misser mis?”

Looking at the ghost, I see them staring directly at us. “Weaver…?” I trail my question off as my friend bounces her way toward Misdreavus and Leafeon. “I guess they were talking to her,” I lamely conclude.

Rowan frowns, not that it’s easy to tell, “I can’t help second guessing anything I see as influenced behavior given both how little it resembles other accounts and, well, what just happened.”

Ohkido glances at me before flipping to… “Is that a gastly?” I ask, quickly skimming the notes next to the sketch. “Where did you even find them?” I continue, raising my eyebrows as I read the words ‘Highly soporific,’ and ‘Hallucinogen.’

A complicated smile crosses the man’s face, “Someone I knew growing up, she always seemed so lonely, but…” He trails off, his smile faltering slightly, “She’s quite the venomous woman, now, and very successful. In any case,” He presents the page, clearly wanting to change the topic, “She’s captured several ghosts, and even evolved a few of them.”

Wait, weren’t there rumors… “Are you talking about Elite–”

“I’ve said nothing of the sort,” Ohkido cuts me off, giving me quite a loaded look. “And I think it would be best if certain things remain unsaid, please.” I raise an eyebrow, but nod after a moment. Interesting reaction, though. “What I’d like to say is that I have observed gastly. And their evolution.”

I turn my gaze on Rowan for a moment. He’s not acting surprised by this, also interesting.

“So, you can compare Misdreavus’ habits,” I conclude, receiving a nod.

“Yes, and Misdreavus is certainly far more placid than the gastly,” Ohkido reveals, “They were only kept in check by–” He coughs, “Her. Regardless, I think Misdreavus’ basic feeding strategy is different. Have you noticed their miasma?”

“How it moves, you mean?” He nods at my question. “Yeah, why?”

“You told us you measured its range, I assume you were inside it at the time?” This time I nod, and he continues, “gastly hunt, and they do so by expanding their miasma cloud to put their targets to sleep, inducing nightmares. However,” He says, indicating Misdreavus, “A gastly’s miasma only extends to two meters.”

It takes me a moment, but I understand, “And Misdreavus’ was around twenty times that and doesn’t seem to be poisonous,” I nod, not voicing the other thought that occurred. Nightmares. “Which begs the question of why would Misdreavus’ miasma be so much larger?”

“That’s the reason we’re here,” Ohkido shrugs. “And, while I’d imagine a poisonous miasma is more intensive to upkeep, it doesn’t answer why a large range would develop in the first place. Unless there’s an effect we don’t know about…” He trails off, rubbing his chin.

“I think it’s worth noting, Misdreavus can’t expand their miasma in sunlight,” I inform the two.

“Neither could any gastly,” Ohkido replies, refocusing, “Although they appeared to be entirely composed of it. Hmm… Perhaps their miasma serves a purpose that informs how Misdreavus is a scavenger. Which, once we learn more, may explain their more passive behavior.”

“A counterpoint,” Rowan says, raising a finger, “Such passive behavior contradicts other sightings of misdreavus.”

“I can think of a few explanations,” I tell him. The image of an unskilled trainer trying to fight the pokemon coming to mind.

“Yes,” Ohkido agrees, “Most ghost-types are spotted in places with little other life, so their priority is likely to get as much food as possible.”

“And trainers aren’t the most reliable with their reports,” Rowan nods before pinching the bridge of his nose, “I think I may have somehow had this study as too low a priority. It would have been better had we arrived sooner and been able to observe the pokemon from a less developed stage.” The older man continues frowning in thought for a moment, “You haven’t noticed any signs of development beyond simple growth, have you?”

“Depends on what you mean,” I respond. “The only thing that isn’t ‘simple’ growth has been the lengthening of their mane and limbs. Which is fairly standard for most pokemon. Why do you ask?”

“The rapid development and lack of large changes appear very similar to many rock-types or other amorphous pokemon, and the gems…” the professor muses, “I feel we’re limited by the number of subjects. How old was the misdreavus when you first encountered them? Less than a week?”

“Five days, according to one of the alphas,” I tell him, not missing how that gets both men’s attention.

“Ah, the report I read did mention an alpha,” Rowan says, clearly getting the kind of Idea Holt said he would. “How did the misdreavus act around her?”

The fact he said ‘her’ tells me everything I need to know, he’s well aware of who Marshal is and likely read up on her part in history before coming here. Normally, I’d say messing with the river alpha is the person’s mistake to make. Not here, I have explicit orders to not let anything happen to the two men.

I probably won’t try to stop her tossing one or both of them into her lake, when they inevitably go looking for her. I wouldn’t succeed… Maybe when it comes to Rowan, he likely wouldn’t take it well and might actually get hurt.

“More reserved than they are now, but that’s likely a product of exposure,” I answer. “Marshal admitted to looking after Misdreavus, though the degree of that is unknown.” And then, to make sure it’s said, “Do not, under any circumstances, approach an alpha without a ranger present.”

The men almost share a look at my words, and that’s confirmation enough that they'd been thinking of taking a look at Marshal.

“It might be best to simply keep observing for now,” Ohkido breaks the silence, looking back over to the three pokemon. “And perhaps interview Misdreavus sooner than later, if we believe we’re already seeing influenced actions.”

I turn my focus back to the pokemon, Weaver and Misdreavus are having an animated conversation, the two of them not so subtly trying to include Leafeon. And they seem to be doing a good job cheering the verdant pokemon up after Misdreavus’ likely rejection.

I don’t miss the looks Leafeon keeps pointing our way, and, within a few minutes, Weaver’s flouncing back to our group while Misdreavus keeps talking for a moment longer. Then, without any real warning, they fly off. At speed.

I’d be willing to bet they did it on purpose, just to frustrate the scientists.

Hefting my supply bag, I wait for the men to lift themselves off the ground before we begin following Misdreavus again. Rowan muttering something about schedules to Ohkido.