Out of the frying pan

Your Pidgey slams clumsily into the Caterpie, sending it tumbling across the ground. The bug recovers and sprays more of that unsettling white string at your bird.

"No!" You strain against your own blanket of the bug's spray. It's like being wrapped in rubber cement, but with effort you can lunge forward, catching the blast of string directly across your arms and body, but you've spared Pidgey from the nasty stuff.

Pidgey lunges again at the bug, smacking it senseless as the Caterpie's body is sent careening into a nearby tree and it slumps to the ground, uconcious. Pidgey trills excitedly, flapping her little wings in triumph at having defeated the Caterpie.

"Good job, Pidgey." Lying on your back, you offer her your words of praise as the additional layer of rubbery slime congeals over the first, leaving your arms pinned across your body like a straightjacket. You don't have the strength to free yourself so you'll just have to wait the half hour or so for it to dissolve. You can wait that long, assuming no other critters come out of the shadows to try to eat you.

Pidgey perches on your knee, keeping watch as you relax. Might as well; since your bug-goo has managed to ooze down over your sides to literally glue you to the ground. You couldn't roll around or stand up if you wanted to; not without help. Oddly enough, you find the situation almost comforting. You can't move, so you don't. You don't need to come up with a plan, because there is only one option: stay put. Wait. Either for someone to come along and rescue you—unlikely—or for your bonds to just wear off.

Pulling against the gluey substance yields just enough that you can comfortably flex your muscles now and then, but you find you may even enjoy the sensation of being so tightly wrapped up. "Good girl. Pidgey. Don't let anything sneak up on us. We'll be okay in a little bit. You did good."

You close your eyes and just exist for a little while. The soft sounds of the forest speak peace to your soul as your mind draws inward, finding a meditative comfort in nothingness. You've never realized that being immobilized could be so freeing, emotionally. You're just very glad you have your Pidgey to provide you with a feeling of safety in your helplessness.

You're not sure how much time passes before a trilling series of beeping sounds snaps you back to reality. Pidgey sqwaks and fidgets on your knee in alarm. She's staring over the top of your head to something you can't quite strain enough to see "What is it? What's happening?"

As you direct your attention to Pidgey, you notice the partially dissolved goop covering your left hand is glowing red, and realize the beeping is coming from your trainer card.

Then you hear amused masculine laughter, not very far from you. "Oh! What do we have here, girl? Looks like a rookie nearly bit off more than she could chew. Get up, rookie. I challenge you to a battle."