Gleaming Purple Eyes!

Even if your senses weren’t dulled by the early morning mesmerization, it’s likely that your reaction would be just as muted; captured as you are by the Vaporeons gleaming violet orbs. Heavy breaths escape his drooling maw, tongue hanging loosely from its home, as he shifts his focus back and forth between yourself and the horrified Chieftain of Cove Crest.

In an instant, the peaceful serenity that the Milotic had cultivated for you is shattered. A shocked gasp cuts the moment of silent dread the three of you had been sharing, the sound appearing to have an effect on newly infected water pokemon. Having made up his crazed mind, Arro stomps a hindpaw down hard on the wooden planks and a ferocious surge of water is sent rocketing toward the ill-prepared woman.

The hardy Milotic, whilst able to throw up an arm to block the water and strengthened by decades of experience, is nonetheless staggered by the surprise torrent. The Vaporeon maintains the jet as he stalks closer to Lyra as she struggles to find proper footing under the building pressure. Through the spray of water droplets, you watch unmoving as the turned water fox halts his approach a couple meters from his chieftain, the massive **** of his attack making it impossible to press the advantage. The two remain at this standstill, Lyra unable to adopt a firm stance and Arro on the verge of unbalancing himself.

Finally your friend, despite his newly feral resolve, is **** by necessity to interrupt his **** to take a quick breath. Lyra exploits the much needed repreve and jolts forward, likely hoping to deny the infected a second barrage. You see the Vaporeons cheeks beginning to bulge once more, though Lyra is the quicker. Just as the fresh spray bursts forth, the older woman drops low to avoid the liquid and lunges the last few feet to bring her shoulder into Arros belly. A pained expulsion of air bookends the failed water gun attack as the Milotic drags her target to the floor in a tight bearhug. Nowhere near finished, the infected fox attempts to bite at the woman pinning him to the wood.

Lyra is having none of it, however, and is able to elude the first few snaps before clamping a large fist over the gnashing maw. Now fully incapacitated beneath his former chieftain, Arro continues his futile wriggling against her iron grip. Lyra sits atop the smaller male, panting through her clenched teeth. Once it becomes clear that Arro can’t move against her, the tension in her face begins to melt away, the harsh realization of another lost friend drawing a pitiable look upon her features. After a sidelong glance your way to ensure you hadn’t been disturbed by the tussle, her defeated gaze meets her friend's violet glare.

“Oh Arro…” she mournfully coos, her words barely a whisper in your ears. “Not you too…” Tears start to well in her tired eyes for her dear friend. His only response to her sorrow is a defiant growl and a hateful scowl for the woman who would deny him his meal. Even in your euphoric state, you can sense that the angry rebuke bites at the aging Milotic. It serves as a hopeless affirmation that the pokemon you once knew is gone, replaced by a creature filled with a singular, devious purpose. You know the scene should horrify you, even break you as thoroughly as it seems to have Lyra, but the emotions never come. Quietly, you continue to sit there, still completely devoid of fear and higher reasoning. You were asked to relax, to let it all fall away, and you wouldn’t dare disobey the word of your chieftain.

Lyra has nothing to say to you, however, still crestfallen as she is at the loss of her champion. She fights back the sobs as best she can, her tail slowly rising behind her with those glittering scales stealing your attention once again. With the Milotic gripping him tightly, Arro’s purple gaze is **** over his elders shoulder to the dangling jewels. As the Vaporeons struggles begin to lesson, your last bit of holdout wherewithal floats the obvious question of how Arro found himself in such a pitiable state.

The answer comes quickly and violently in the form of another shape jetting through the seashell curtain, snapping most of the strands and sending shells scattering across the soaked floorboards. The figure, a formerly **** Oshawott, can barely be seen through a thick veil of water coating her body and propelling her toward the now twice surprised Miltoic. With no time to react, the new threat brutally collides with Lyras abdomen, the impact knocking the air from her lungs and throwing her clear of Arro’s supine form.

The pair of dueling pokemon skid across the floor in a tangled heap. A ragged gasp informs you that Lyra took the hit poorly, as does the **** scramble for position. Limbs flail viciously as the two women grapple for leverage over the other. With a strength that is not her own, the Oshawott manages to launch a heavy kick to the chieftains side, robbing her of the fresh oxygen and the dominant stance. The Oshawott quickly takes advantage and straddles the larger woman before raining blows and bursts of water from above. Grounded and **** on the defensive, the Milotic weaves around the attacks she can and blocks the ones she can’t.

Lyra’s superior proportions, often a benefit to her combat prowess, is proving to be much more of a detriment against the agile opponent, her large body providing ample openings for the infected girl to exploit. Despite the beating she has taken, Lyra endures, biding her time you realize. She doesn’t have to wait long, it seems, as the infected atop her throws another forceful punch squarely at the Milotics face.

Lyra deftly bops her head to the side and traps the incoming limb under her shoulder earning an enraged growl from her aggressor. The Oshawott instinctively attempts to break free, pulling back hard against the grapple. However, this serves only to line her own head up with the coiled serpentine tail dangling just above. A powerful slap sends the girl tumbling to the right to collide with the wall. You watch as Lyra takes her first lung full since enduring the furious ****, using the reprieve to get a leg under herself.

*THWACK*

You flinch at the impact of Arro’s muscled tail as it takes his Elder unawares across the chin. The poor woman is sent spinning across the water slickened floorboards to crash against the wall not too far from where Lyra had sent her own living projectile. Had you the capacity, you might’ve been dismayed to notice the female infected had mostly recovered from the Milotics attack and now stalked menacingly toward the groaning chieftain. Lyra, through pained eyes, comes to realize this all too late as the feral Oshawott once again envelopes itself with a torrent of water and crouches low, preparing to strike.

“K-Kale!!”

The sound of your name as it blurts from miss Lyra’s lips dispels the numbness in your limbs in a fraction of a second, muscles tightening and prepared to explode into motion should she ask it.

“Kale!! Please h-”

*THWOOSH*

Your ears, stood at attention for the Milotic’s command, are instead battered with a gust of wind as the hydrodynamically propelled sea otter streaks across the room to smash into your wouldbe instructor. You know the fight is over before the water finishes seeping through the floorboards, your eyes fixed to Lyra’s crumpled **** form. The Oshawott stands tall and triumphant over her impressive conquest with her Vaporeon ally, the pair proving too much for the veteran to handle.

That small, annoying bit of instinct still screams at you to retaliate, to escape, to do something so long as it is pursuant to your survival. That little flicker of resistance is snuffed out in an instant when two sets of soulless pale eyes turn to face you. The feral former inhabitants of Cove Crest, apparently satisfied with the inspection of their unresponsive quarry, now direct their attention to the pokemon sat perfectly still opposite them. The sense of dread, dampened as it is from Lyra’s conditioning, still grips tightly at your heart. Seeking guidance, or perhaps comfort, you recall Lyra’s final command as the two infected pokemon take their first steps towards you.

Kale

PLEASE!

Was that it? Wasn’t there something else? You could have sworn that more words were forming before they were silenced, cut off by female infecteds blow. You are given little time to ponder what they might be as the shadow of your corrupted friend darkens your vision. Fighting back the urge to abandon your charge, you take all that was given by mistress Lyra and carry out her order as best you can. The ferals' advance shudders to a halt, both of their faces distorted with what could even be construed as bewilderment, so unexpected was your next move.

“Haahh…”

Their confusion lingers as their eyes glance to one another before returning to the knelt Sneasel, seemingly unafraid of their presence, now stretching wide its maw, tongue dangling alluringly. The puzzled expressions of your two adversaries fade quickly, however, replaced with devious malice. They share another look between them, perhaps deciding on how best to take advantage of your enticing offer.