~~~ Chapter 37 - Justified ~~~
As the cloudfare thinned, Leaf, Lanky and I walked through the forest in relative silence, going deeper, passing the occasional nest of grey birds with yellow eyes and black-tipped wings. Pidove chicks hiding in the underbrush. Other times, we passed little lilligant and sunflora, jostling for the best places under the rays of the sun, peeking out from behind the clouds. Occasionally, Lanky would point at a tree, and command, "Razor Leaf!" or "Leaf Blade!" as we went. There was no real target practice, unless 'the bark of a dead tree' counted, so there was nothing really measuring my ability to hit a precise point. Nor did we ever find a good area for long-range practice. The trees were too thick.
"Cut!" Lanky shouted, pointing at a thick bush. I had a couple approaches. The boring—walk up to the bush, slash my arms through it, maybe do a scissor motion, but this time, I wanted to do something fancy. When you're girded in a leaf dress, what was the point if you didn't get some spinny? I took a few steps back, then ran at the bush, at the last second, kicking up and around, rotating my whole body, holding my arms together, accelerating the spin, then as the three-sixty neared, let my right arm out, slicing the bush in half, horizontally, revealing some little pieces of uneaten fruits on the inside. I plucked a few off as my reward, tossing some to Leaf.
Deeper into the forest we went, Lanky occasionally pulling out his pokedex, scanning more and more pokemon that we spotted. A pair of butterfree floated in the path we wanted to go, Lanky scanning them as we approached. His fingers twitched, reaching down to his belt, tapping one of the pokeballs, before deciding against the course of action. Instead, we continued together into a deeper thicket, following chirps, buzzes and the occasional waft of honey floating in. As we crossed, there were occasional gash marks against the trees. Beedrill and butterfree floated about, visiting the tree and flower alike. A sewaddle poked out from a tree above us, their own cape still glistening from the morning mists. Lanky silently pulled Leaf into his arms, setting the bug on his shoulders. Leaf startled at the change in position, yet uncomplaining.
Leaf and Lanky walked out into the clearing, Lanky's eyes wide open as he spun at every buzzing, every flap of butterfree wings, and every chirp in the forest. Deciding the duo would be fine without my immediate attention, I climbed up the tree, checking on the sewaddle. A pair of cotton-puffs with eyes watched from even further up. Sewaddle chirped a little, short chirp, their body covered in leaves, though the job was shoddy and patchy. The waddle's leaf-armor was covered in sticky, wet specks of cotton that had floated down from above. I felt a light muteness on my antennae, a tasteless scent dampening the world. I didn't see anything that looked like a nest in here. And, well, it just. It felt right, okay? I picked up the cotton-covered sewaddle, holding it in my arms.
I heard a single, muted "click" after I dropped down, when I was confronted with another leavanny limping, their leaves and carapace covered in blotches of purple, staggering. Moving closer, we tapped one another's antennae, their scent familiar, yet obfuscated by the smell of poison. They then tapped, tickling what I could only assume was their child, before taking a few more steps, sitting down in the grass and sun, the muscles in their arm beginning to twitch and contract. Setting the sewaddle down, I ran to Lanky, tugging, trying not to make any major noises amidst the bees. He looked down at me. I reached out my arm, pointing at the twitching leavanny and their sewaddle. Lanky's eyes widened, and grabbing on to Leaf's legs, jogged towards the ailing bug.
I didn't know which berries were which at all, but anything that could help, we would try. Leaf, my taller counterpart, hopped off Lanky's shoulders rolling onto the ground, then approached the ailing leavanny and sewaddle with Lanky, before giving the baby his own antennae-tickles, wiping off some of the sticky-wet cotton. I ran through the woods, tapping every fruit bush we'd passed, spearing every unique kind that I could, before running back, my arms a kind of berry-kebab. Even as my own mouth watered with the sweets in hand, running back to Lanky, I didn't realize one thing: leavanny aren't the only ones attracted to the smell of juicy sweets. As I ran back into the clearing where I'd left Lanky, who was ruffling through his bag, I had to push Leaf off, a beedrill and butterfree catching the scent, drifting close.
The first fruit I pulled off and shoved into the ailing leavanny's jittering mouth, was yellow and pear-shaped. I sliced it in quarters, Lanky pouring a bit of water in the leavanny's mouth, putting two in the patient's mouth. I then threw half the berry out at the approaching flyers, hoping that would be enough. The world was oddly mute. Not waiting to see if I'd found the right berry for poison, I pulled a red one. Lanky tapped me on the head, instead gently grabbing my arm, and pulling off a smaller, hollow pink fruit. The purple on the bug's carapace remained, nor did the contraction of the bug's muscles reduce, as Lanky shoved one berry into the leavanny's mouth, yelping as the jaw twitched, mashing his fingers. He then picked the second one up—holding it in front of our eyes, vocalizing a word, before shoving it into the leavanny's mouth.
More beedrill had begun to gather in the field—I tasted sugar, then skin and sweat and dirt, my antennae lightly tugged, I had to hold in the yelp, concerned about causing problems with the bees, and sounds returned, a growing buzzing in the air. Lanky held out his hand, a big piece of cotton, he balled up and dropped to the ground as the purple on our patient's carapace began to reduce, beginning from the face, thorax and abdomen areas. I had to shove Leaf away from my berries, as Lanky packed up the contents of his bag that he'd spilled onto the ground. Looked around, then glanced down at the sewaddle and the recovering leavanny, he sighed as he stood up. There were about four beedrill, one pushed out of the group fighting over the fruits I'd thrown, instead deciding to float to us. With the sweets in the air, I was drooling. I picked up the red, cherry-like berry. I'm not sure what I was thinking, but I ate it. And my mouth and tongue erupted in metaphorical fire, causing me to heave and lose sight. My writhing was interrupted by a sharp pain on my arm, where the last fruits were. My vision returned, and what I expected—a beedrill biting down—was instead my own nest-mate.
I ceased moving, fire in my mouth forgot. The world slowed, my abdomen buzzed, Leaf realized his mistake, a wind picked up around us. He released the clamp on my arm, as I stood up, the sun turning hot, he fell to the ground, curling, shrinking like a poisoned bug before me. Beedrill found other, more interesting things as I hovered over the traitor in sheer, unyielding rage. The warmth of the sun concentrating in my center, the buzzing in the world fading. A flash of red light, and I was in the dark, the world mute around me, the energy of the rage circling and burning.
As one does, I lost time while in the pokeball. I pushed, I prodded, I tried to roll, but I could not re-enact the same escape that I had accidentally orchestrated the month before. But the heat, the reminder of the anger was there, and it would not let go. It needed, it DEMANDED to make itself known, it did not care. I was released from my pokeball and immediately the energy in my chest-area escaped the thorax, pushing its way out slamming me off my legs with a high-pitched scream, rolling out through the grass, my overcoat of leaves taking the bulk of the rocks and roots as I tumbled. My vision began to recover, afterimages of a black and red and yellow larva fading from my eyes. The world was moving slow, the sun still beating down, hotter than a summer day. Lanky moved in slow motion, appearing overhead with the potion he'd been spraying me with, giving me a quick squirt of it, then as I sat up, held out his bottle of water. The heat inside was gone. He poured some water into my mouth. I did not see or smell the leavanny/sewaddle pair we'd rescued.
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Good, I thought.
Flocks of birds took to the skies, screams of wild pokemon erupting in the distance. I stood back up. We were still in the same meadow from earlier. The sun was still hot. Lanky was still moving at half-speed. A green quadruped with a wide head and thick neck stood at the edge of the treeline, limbs blasted off the trees, a large black gash down its side. A dark silhouette of a pokemon fell out of a tree behind the forest protector. A dark line proceeded from the center of our onlooker's forehead to the back of its skull, the head an ultra-wide v-shape from elongated horns extending out the sides, ending in bulbous shapes. It looked as if it was dressed in a suit of green, the grass coat ending in a light tan colour, its legs ending in boot-like grass.
Virizion. Caught in the crossfire. I groaned at the legendary's presence and misfortune, staring up at them. They returned my contest. Unfortunately for them, I cannot lose at blinking contests. Unfortunately for me, I am a bug. The bees and butterfree had chosen, wisely, not to return just yet. Lanky turned. Lanky joined the stare, his hands slowly trembling as he held out his pokedex. Virizion did not move. Tired of the wait, I threw a leaf. If it was possible to feel an aura of general disdain, I felt it in that moment. The pokemon took a step further, the feeling growing stronger, the feeling that they were doing what was right, that it was inevitable, what was going to happen in just a few moments. Even in their slow motion, even under the beating, they stepped slowly, leisurely. Lanky was staring at his device. I reached up, poking him where all humans were most vulnerable—the belly. A bit too hard, perhaps, as Lanky nearly dropped the pokedex.
I clicked "Virizion is coming, you idiot, and you're staring at your screen!" the antelope-like grass type stepped out into the meadow. They were easily three hundred meters away, but kept walking with mosey. I pushed Lanky, verbally chewing him out, clicking, pushing the kid, when his eyes widened, hopefully realizing what was happening. He reached to grab my pokeball from his belt, but I slapped his hand.
"At least get out of the field!" the teen's movements at half-speed, he finally got the clue and stepped back into the trees, a red light, and Leaf was out. I didn't see how Leaf would help, but at least Lanky would have someone to help protect him after I'd died. I stepped further out into the field, approaching them, rubbing my blade-arms together, judgemental asshole approaching. I hearkened back to my anger. My anger at being used, my anger at being betrayed. Instead of pulling it and trying to hold it all in, I held it in the air, my body beginning to vibrate, the wind swirling around me. A single hoof hit the ground, and a blade of grass under me rebelled, knocking me on the ground and on my ass.
Judgement's come.
The world around me sped up as I tried to stand, the virizion's eyes glowing, it was as if my leaves were sliding from the sun into pitch black, their energy diverting to the demigod before me. My limbs fell limp, and I struggled. Then, the feeling of judgement was gone, the light of the sun returned to my leaves, virizion continuing their trot toward me, going deeper into the woods. Life sapped, I rolled back over, facing into the sun, Lanky by my side.
Both Leaf and the leavanny we'd saved appeared out of nowhere, their movements unnaturally fast. Lanky held up his bottle of water, but it only dripped a few drops. He was out of water. Leaf came over, and dropped a few of the red cherry-looking berries by my side, before disappearing again. The leavanny we'd saved had done the same, sewaddle on their head, they dropped one of the yellow, citrus-y, pear-shaped fruits.
Lanky gave them to me, and minutes later, it was Lanky who was slow again. I clicked my jaws, mashing the last of the berries, sitting back up, happy to be alive, I was ready to get the hell out of the forest.
The three of us walked, heading back north a couple of hours as we trotted forward. I dreamt of the swaddlies, wondering where they were, what they were doing. Leaf was off the leash, Lanky apparently deciding to trust the little traitor. My taller counterpart shrank whenever I'd look at them, pulling their arms back, they rubbed their arms together, their antennae twitching. I inspected the right blade-arm, the one they'd bit. It was mashed pretty good, flat lines where they'd chomped, a good v-like puncture in my leaf-blade from the fore of their beak giving it some extra aerodynamics. Something I hadn't had since making a leaf-cup to drink at the fountain, after my first "fight" with the rockruff. Back when I'd first met Lanky, in train-town.
The leavanny/sewaddle pair apparently realized where we were headed, and with no fanfare, decided to run back off, deeper into the woods, hopefully to make a new nest. Ones a bit further from cotton pokemon, beedrill and butterfree. Leaf had apparently been feeling bad, when he picked up some leaves off trees, and made me a little patch. I accepted the gift, gluing it on over the other leaves that had been patched on, though not yet fully integrated. Holding his arm out, proffering the patch to me, his own leaf-blades were unhealthily thin. The traitor's leaves were being shaved off through the hike, even long after I was betrayed.
Leaf and I both relaxed when the strong summer sun reduced, followed by Lanky speeding up. The teen was covered and smelling like sweat after running through the woods when we stumbled on a little stream. Lanky filled his bottle, and both Leaf and I took drinks from the stream, cooling off the heat we'd been building from the energy that we'd been burning. There, Lanky pulled out packs of dried food, giving us some lunch and taking a break, spinning the spinner he'd apparently picked up after I forgot about it.
Letting Leaf's blades fall apart simply wasn't an option, so I took the break-time to pull together some leaves, and make a set of patches. Our trainer was content to rest and stretch, occasionally watching me work, or following Leaf as they poked about, not looking at me, their earthy scent following them as they agitated various forest pokemon. The final product of my work was two sheets of leaves sized to the length of my arm, so probably a bit small, compared to the traitor's. The leaves were still soft and the sticky silk had yet to dry. I found him, wiggling under a bush, poking at a hiding pidove, pulling his arm back as it pecked. I nudged the bug's leg, startling them, the pidove taking the opportunity to flee. Standing above him, despite his height, the bug cowered, shrinking, scrunching their abdomen under their armored leaf-skirt.
I tapped him again. Then a third time before Leaf finally got the clue, standing up, holding their arms close to their chest, making little circular motions, causing their blades to friction. Pulling the traitor back to my little work area, I held the bug's arm out, slapping my patch-coverings on for them, their scent becoming saccharine. Once the patches had been applied for them, they just… laid down on the ground, un-moving, though their antennae twitched. The leavanny was still dramatically weaker than me, but it never felt like our gap had been this big. His leaves didn't have the punch mine did, nor his kicks or cuts or chops. But his bite had a lot of oomph. It was a good, if obvious lesson, at least. Avoid punctures and jaws and beaks. Shivering at a dream I'd once had, of being swallowed by a bird, beaks were definitely to be avoided, and my instincts agreed. Leaf, with his saccharine and earthy scent, tried to give me every other berry or fruit he could find.
When we found ourselves on the trail, it was empty except for a pair of joggers running along the compact, dirt road, waving at our trainer, who waved back. Leaf gave me another berry. When Lanky pulled out the bike, pulling out Leaf's pokeball, I objected.
I pressed my arm on the button of my ball, hanging off Lanky's leather belt, my world disappearing into dark, chirps of an annoyed bug echoing, then fading, along with conscious thought.