No Rest For The Weary...

As ‘eventful’ as the day was, true sleep remains perpetually just out of reach for your wilted form. A half day's travel offset by a bitter slugfest had every muscle complaining for rest. Even still, your heart continued to pound and the exhaustion clouding your mind was overruled by the vivid reenactments of the fight racking your brain. The couple of times you managed to nod off were both short lived. The first instance has you shaken awake by the distressing illusion of a furious Liepard coming back to finish the job. His vile cries tore at the pleasant fantasy of an older Kale sitting on the coast and enjoying a vibrant red berry. The dream berry was slashed from your hand before a maw with too many fangs shattered your much needed stupor.

The upright jolt it provoked sent a fresh surge of misery running along the lines in your side, making you keenly aware of their disapproval. With an annoyed groan, you gently slip a finger beneath the makeshift bandage adorning your torso and are relieved to find that you’re still dry and intact. The scratches don't share your relief and recoil from the intruding digit, sending more stings of warning until you cease your investigation. The knowledge that you won't leak out in the night will have to suffice in lieu of a bedtime story as you turn onto your unwounded side and try once more to find rest.

This latest attempt is again thwarted by a subtle itching along the sensitive cuts that slowly makes itself known beneath the pain. Somewhere in the past you'd heard that wounds might begin to itch or tingle as the healing process did its work. While you are not unwelcoming to such an event, it certainly makes getting comfortable a challenge. You spend the next hour or so tossing and turning, **** to find some escape from the waking world and being denied each time. With a disgruntled huff, your eyelids creak open and you stare up into the starry sky with utter disdain.

Lunar radiance peeks through some of the canopy overhead drawing you attention from current frustrations. Beyond these illuminated breaks in the silhouetted leafery the vast umbral ocean, intermittently disturbed by countless pale flecks, sprawls out before your sagging hazel orbs. All those twinkling lights set adrift in the endless void set your mind to wander and, in contrast to the sorry state of affairs here on the ground, there was just something about that inky expanse. You hardly feel the soreness as you slowly rise, gaze still fixed upon the heavens. Absent-mindedly taking a few steps, you gingerly seek a better view of the serene void stretching out into the unimaginable.

“... It really is a beautiful night.”

Still having the sense not to draw attention, your whispers barely register above a soft breeze in the tranquil wind. Despite all the hardships, the lack of sleep and a nasty possible scar in the making, these idle musings had a nice calming effect on the inner turmoil whirling within. More quiet padding brings you further from the nook wherein no sleep could be found, each slow stride bringing with it another simple comfort. It is unclear when the aimless meandering became a conscious decision to go on a peaceful nature hike, though the choice is an appealing one in the face of attempting and failing to pass out a third time. Making a mental note of your root formed hovel and the belongings therein, you then set out along the silken grasses to venture between the towering trees, hoping that if this small excursion wasn’t enough to exhaust your body enough for a proper nap, than at least it might cool the anxiety plaguing your weary mind.

The internal warnings against the questionable course of action slowly give way you’re drawn into the shaded evergreen sanctum, each playful breeze making the worries easier to let go. You periodically raise your face to the open skies, delighting in the few chances you are able to view the moon in full. It nears completion and is, if you remember correctly, ‘waxing’ toward its full second phase as indicated by the slight bit of shadow on its left side. Back home, no one ever cared much about anything other than training the body and mind for anything other than competition or conquest. That said, the phases of the moon were hammered into your kin at an early age though this was to put its variable luminosity to best use rather than for any spiritual or scholastic reason. New moons, when the night was at its darkest, were preferred for the cover they provided the clan during a raid on the unsuspecting, after all…

You shook your head to clear the thoughts of home. This cozy evening didn’t need to be ruined with the turmoil of the past just yet. Instead, as your walk continues past a row of interesting rock formations, ivy snaking along their craggy surface, your mind wanders to better things. Images of a wry smile accompanied by gleaming yellow eyes with far too many intentions behind them wash away the memories of Yelsdin. You find yourself wondering what the mischievous Vaporeon might be up to at this moment. The worry that he hadn’t made it to his peoples hidden reef is brief and easily discarded when you remember how many of the former residents of that breezy seaside village had gone with him. That’s not to discount the mighty Lyra, of course. Anywhere that one goes is sure to be tended to with the utmost security. How you hoped they were doing well this evening.

Then, the idle reverie turns to that squawking bird brain that had almost ended your journey all together. Though you’d certainly gotten on the Decidueye’s bad side after that underhanded blow, and likely more so when making your escape, you couldn’t bring yourself to dislike the man. He was a bit bold for your tastes, constantly speaking to you as though you were a rowdy child with a tone that screams of hereto unseen levels of ego. However, he’d made up for his earlier mistakes that evening by finishing off the feral insect instead of leaving you to her vile whims. And it goes without saying that he holds his own home, this ‘Nest’ as he called it, in very high regard. While you might fault the man for his ‘enthusiasm’, you could never doubt his sense of duty to those he cared about. You find yourself hoping that he’d made it out of that dangerous area safe and fully able to make another poor pokemon the target of that fiery beak.

Despite the most recent misstep along your path, these past encounters had a grin creasing your tired muzzle. Perhaps this world has a chance, after all.

With folks like those trying their damnedest to make things better for those around them, then maybe we might just-

*CRACK*

**CRRROOOSSSSHHH!!**

The distant report of twisting bark followed by a crash that shook the ground you walked upon shocks you back to the reality you currently occupy, dashing the fanciful dreams you’d prefer. In a flash your relaxed posture is gone, replaced with a low crouch with your fresh wounds making known their displeasure. Wincing at the reminder, you are no less rattled by the unexpected calamity as you spin toward the sound. Finely tuned senses go to work in an instant, **** to answer the questions piling up in your panicking mind. A tiny bit of relief comes when it’s clear that the noise came from quite a ways off, making it very unlikely that you’d been noticed. Most of that relief is immediately dispelled once you realize which direction it had come from…

The trek back is one of aching slow progress, so **** are you to avoid even the slightest disturbance to the grass or twigs littering the way. More thumps and cracks are heard intermittently, their volume growing as you crept closer to the hovel beneath the tree you’d left your satchel in. Your ears go back and the fur bristles at your nape when another terrible calamity kicks up a cloud of dust and unfortunate plantlife dead ahead of you. The destruction, and more importantly the one causing all of it, can’t be far off now and when you’re finally flat against the last broad elm separating you from the carnage, your plan to quietly grab your gear is sounding extremely foolish in your head.

Taking stock for a moment, you really didn’t mind losing the few days of berries or the torn cloak left inside the bag. You’d all but memorized the map at this point, so that’d only be a sentimental loss. Harder to leave behind would have been the satchel itself given your lack of pockets. Arro’s handcrafted bathing jar would hurt as the man had made it all but impossible to forget his kindness and the guilt would linger. Still, if it was a choice between abandoning it all and living to see another morning you’d have given it all up and just snuck off into the night, except for one thing…

The ruby scale…

The hand sized platelet was too much to simply ignore. It had been graciously donated by the wise woman to give your words depth when others might, somewhat justifiably, doubt your sincerity. It had already saved your hide when Rowan had clearly made up his mind that you were an enemy and were to be shown no quarter. His superior tone faltered when he found the precious bit of glimmer tucked away amongst your things and as such, you couldn’t bear to leave the advantageous item to waste away in the dirt. A silent exhale steadies your nerves and you set all your senses to work as you painstakingly slowly inch your way around the trunk, finally bringing the unwelcome guest into view.

… I should run…

Any thoughts of retrieving your things are crushed under the weight of what your balking eyes now beheld. Massive doesn’t begin to describe the hulking turquoise beast lumbering about the base of your former rest stop. Though you’d never seen one before, it was hard to mistake the amphibious quadrupedal creature sporting a wide plumed flower sprouting from its back. By some grace of chance the Venusaur was faced away from your hiding place giving you a clear view of its broad back side and the generous pair of orbs, each significantly bigger than your head, swinging beneath it. Frozen in place by the sheer size of such a monstrosity, you somewhat serendipitously perceive the reason for its abrupt arrival.

Though turned away, you can tell its front legs are pawing at the ground as the foot of the wizened oak that was to serve as your evenings quarters. An annoyed grunt batters your ear-drums as the giant wedges a massive fore claw beneath the root system and, with worrying ease, upends what must have been decades of plant growth before gravity sends the poor thing crashing to the earth before you. Your fear of discovery saves you when the violent collision of bark and dirt threatens to **** a cry from your clenched teeth. When the quake finally subsides and you are able to regain some of your balance, the ring of similarly decimated trees is brought into sharper focus as the overgrown toad, seemingly satisfied with his work, leisurely waddles its way to the center of the destruction. Upon his arrival to what you guess to be his preferred space of comfort, you watch slack jawed as his four trunk sized legs carry him in a lazy circle once, twice, and half again bringing his stark pale eyes now perfectly in line with the elm you are cowering behind.

Your heart stops for a moment when those cursed purple eyes drift over your location and it only begins ticking again when a weary blink of the aforementioned orbs reveal his intentions. Another knee buckling shock hits you when the corrupted herbivore plops heavy down into the flattened mulch that will serve as his bed. A yawn that might have been more than a little wholesome were it not attached to one of the virus bearers draws back its already humongous maw, revealing a dark burgundy tunnel lined with saliva drenched teeth. Its thick tongue laps at the air before him as a steamy exhale carries its heat in your direction, a few bits of moisture clinging to your quivering form. With its nightly ritual of devastation complete, the towering infected nestles its face into the grass and, with a haste that almost makes your sleep deprived form jealous, promptly falls asleep.

The minutes slip by with you stuck to the spot, too unnerved to even take a proper lungful. Eventually though, logic regains control and you prepare to slink back into the darkness, fully accepting that your bag was lost somewhere amongst the leafy debris. Damned be whatever impulse compelled you to scan the ground around the slumbering behemoth because alas, between some tangled branches and covered in a layer of greenery, there it lay. Voices screamed in your mind to leave it and be gone, that what you were now considering might just be the stupidest notion you’d ever come up with.

Still, it was *right there*, far to the left side of the dozing mass of scaled muscle. You’d never have a better symbol of your well meaning intentions should the need arise. And besides, your unconvinced brain mused, stealth was kinda your thing. Ever so carefully you rise from your crouched position, testing if your unobscured form would provoke the feral into a ravenous hunger. Low, rumbling snores are all you receive in response. Tightening your jaw and narrowing your brow into a sharp focus, you take that first perilous step toward the predator and the satchel he unintentionally stood guard over. Another step, then another, and then another…

The safety of the tree line was far behind you now and aside from a few of the ones he’d toppled in his tirade, nothing stood between you and the drooling jaws of your napping adversary. Your nervous gaze never left his dopey face, desperately searching for any signs of stirring, as you grew nearer to the tote and its valuable contents. At long last, with the sweat beading heavily on your forehead from the stressful approach, you stood within a meter or so of the lost satchel. A cautious glance beyond toward the stoic giant confirmed that he was still off in dreamland and that all you had left to do was take a few more steps, bend down, and reach out to grab the…

*Shhhhwwiiisshhhh…*

As you prepare to take that final stride toward your long awaited goal, your trailing leg catches on something. Looking back toward the odd sensation, the initial panic that begins its icy course through your veins is abated somewhat when you find a thin strand of green coiled loosely about your ankle. You give your limb a slightly annoyed tug to free yourself, but this only seems to make matters worse as the leathery tendril tightens its grip. A disgusted sigh quietly leaves your lips as you sit down on your rear to deal with the irritation before getting back to the task at hand. Leaning in to appraise the hold this troublesome vine has on you, it's clear that you are well and truly tangled. With a shake of your weary head, your hands close in to grasp at the offending tentacle.

Then you feel the twitch…

Your hands freeze upon the tendril as the subtle movement vibrates up your leg, making itself at home in your beating chest. A familiar dread starts to take root as upon closer inspection, you can clearly make out a slight wriggling in the strip of plant flesh adorning your calf. You don’t get to gawk long as without much warning, the vine slowly begins to snake further up your leg, wrapping more of it in an alien embrace. Instinct provokes your reaction, unthinkingly giving your whole leg a firm tug against its captor. This, as it would turn out, was the wrong course of action.

In an instant the coiling tentacle goes rigid, tightly locking your limb within its grasp before another worrying sensation makes itself known. You watch, horrified, as the vine begins to creep back and away from your prized traveling bag and, distressingly, toward the looming feral. Realization finally sets in as your eyes trace the viney appendage along the ground to it’s master’s back, terminating just below the billowing pink flower. You hold in a terrified whimper as you look to the face of your would-be captor. His muzzle lays dormant in the dirt, cheeks bubbling from each blissful exhale. However, the fact that he is still fast asleep does little to quell the unrest in your heart. Another, stronger tug from the autonomously acting vine drags you further from your possessions and into the long shadow cast by the resting tyrant. More tendrils are seen sprouting from his back, eager to inspect what their compatriot has found and it becomes distressingly clear that your window of escape is rapidly closing. Thinking quickly, you rationalize that due to the beast still chasing dream morsels, you may be able to slip away without waking him if you are careful. The problem with that idea is that your slight restriction might deteriorate into full body bondage if you linger too long. You can clearly make out 3 more appendages snaking their way toward you and know it is time to act..!