TtEoaF - Chapter Twenty-three

                                                                            Through the Eyes of a Flareon
                                                                         Chapter Twenty-three: Separate Paths

I was hardly aware or mindful of the noise the rustling would have produced as I seared across the forest floor. I may have been startling nearby sleeping pokémon for the second I was in their presence and arousing trees, but their desires were not prominent on my list. My thoughts raced as my legs followed, dodging trees as I mulled over my brisk decision to blurt out something that could harm that child forever.

However, the information was absolutely necessary. Holding in such a terrible secret for much longer could have driven me insane, and, as I realised, it was more important that I not keep such a thing to myself... Bottling it up only caused things to continue turning sour, and I certainly wasn't winning myself any points of wisdom. The realisation was a shocking one; at first I thought that because the secret was my burden, I mattered the most...that I was most affected. But keeping a secret to myself, one that should be shared with the entire colony to sooth their concerns, seemed newly absurd.

The sick feeling of selfishness seeped through my skin, soaking my flesh and snaking along my veins. I tried to shed the layer of guilt as I leapt through the brush, stamping the soil flat, only to have its grass spring back up after I passed through. My leg muscles buzzed as I galloped between trunks and my tail fluttered uncomfortably through the air as the difference between a normal tail and half a tail surprised me again, as it did each time I noticed. Progressively my throat became drier, and dampening it was the only solution.

Deciding to focus my attention on finding a stream of water, I switched on my directional senses and slowed to a jog. My jaws eased into separation to allow a circulation of air to cool my internals. It wasn't difficult to detect any site of importance, as the wind flowed in my direction during the time in which I scented it, so after a short minute, I stumbled upon a stream. Coming to the edge of the river, I monitored my paws, ensuring that they didn't slip on the bank's mud. When my toes squelched in the mud and my eyes had fixed themselves warily to the calm body of water, my mind was cast back to the minutes before I had been apprehended weeks ago by the armaldo.

I ruffled my mane in an effort to feel the light breeze weave between its many strands of fur and leaned down. My muzzle submerged and I sealed my eyelids, gulping water by the mouthfuls. I raised my head and parted my jaws to inhale wisps of oxygen between drinks, and returned thoughtlessly to the stream. My vision trailed across slimy rocks, focusing on the occasional one that jutted from the bottom and intersected the flow, the light catching the sparkling liquid and highlighting rises in the current. Separately were the stones that protruded and exposed their surfaces to the air. They quietly reminded me of fins of pokémon that wanted to feel the steady breeze stroke their skin—something they were deprived of underwater. I reminded myself that I was thankful for a life on land.

As my vision rolled over the rocks, pinpointing the reeds poking from the stream, it stopped at a set of irregular black shapes appearing at the left of my body. I knew I would encounter them, however, and it was clear whose paws they were. The houndoom stayed himself, my eyes still and out of view of his face, before I noticed his elbows flex. A chest pointed with orange lowered, a muzzle of the same orange dipping into the water. His eyes were closed, as mine had been, and it was a moment before he opened them directly on me, mine on his. He retracted his head as I remained still; I didn't follow him up, instead looking away when his face was out of sight.

"What was that all about?" he finally questioned, his voice as casual as I had expected. His legs were unmoving; I knew he meant for me to answer. It was probably a confusing sight for him to witness. I had thought that, judging by my silence, it was obvious I intended not to provide him with a clear response. He didn't seem to understand. "Hey. Flair." He ducked his head, eying me from the side.

As I failed to move, aside from the infrequent blink and my heaving chest, he rose and sprung, clearing the narrow stream with a meagre shred of effort. From the other side, he was able to lean over the rushing water and draw my eyes. Somehow the temptation worked, and I pulled my line of sight further up. With the clench of my jaw, I pushed on my paws into a stand, took off and followed the stream upriver.

It was nearly immediately that the fragmentation of leaves and snapping of twigs from the opposite side reached my ears, and with a scowl I turned my head away from the houndoom, or 'Idiot.' He hardly, if at all, deserved anything more dignifying.

"Come on, Flair! You can't just run away," he called, apparently keen on changing my mind. His efforts would be wasted.

"I beg to differ!" I shouted, but blinked sharply in response. I hadn't meant to speak aloud.

My nose twisted in irritation as I imagined his satisfied smirk. He definitely understood that I was not intent on discussing it. Given the situation, he would be proud, or just smug, to have gotten me to talk.

We ran a little longer before my ears twitched to the sound of the undergrowth's disturbance hastening; he was increasing his pace. Within a number of seconds, the dark type had gained the appropriate ground to leap across the stream, and I wasn't sure where he had planned to land, but in the split second before we collided, I knew he had miscalculated.

Together his foolish plunge had sent us rolling to my left, and in a mingle of legs and paws, we scuffed along pointed sticks and gravelly ground. Several of my muscles were battered, as well as my left cheek, the bone having clobbered a stone and taken the impact. I tried my best to keep my legs drawn and my head tucked, but the force of the collision launched us at such a velocity that it was difficult to keep track of any voluntary action. My vision was nothing but a muck of blurs when the foliage smudged by, and momentary darkness as I became downturned to the soil and sealed my eyelids together. I emitted yelps of protest and anger as we tumbled, and finally we slowed, body parts folding over each other before we came to a heaving halt. The ordeal had provoked the resurrection of my fury, and traces of my guilt and worry slowly slipped from my grasp.

"What the hell were you THINKING?!" I cried, snapping my limbs away from him and rising to my paws.
With a half-heated chuckle, the houndoom pressed his front paws against the ground, the rest of his body limp against the ground. "Didn't work out as planned."

"Oh, really," I snapped bitterly, fur risen and pupils tiny with derision. I began to notice the small spots of pain bleeding through my muscles. They would only show as tiny bruises later, but for the moment they pulsed in assorted places. My face was going to bruise as well, even if the purple colouration wouldn't show up through my fur.

"You don't have to be so mad," he suggested, tone raised in a mildly bemused but bewildered manner.

"Stay out of my way," I barked, claws puncturing the earth as I turned and fled again, nearly stumbling at first. I regained my stature and trudged on, speeding through the forest as I had done so many times before.

I had no idea where I was headed, but I needed to run. Running occupied my mind; the more twigs that jabbed my paw pads and the many grains of dirt wedging between my toes to help with distraction, the better. Yet I knew such futile attempts to rid myself of the sad reality of my lies and the truth were no less than excuses to lead me astray from what I had to face. It was my fault that I withheld vital information so selfishly, and in doing so, I should have realised that I endangered, even just mentally, the ones who suffered in turn. I had failed to see that I was not the only one on the end of the tipping scales; others were beginning to teeter and fall because of the imbalance I instigated, and yet I only sought solitude for myself.

'That poor baby teddiursa...'

Sourly my mind walked the figurative path of destruction I had torn in my wake and encountered Wynore, distraught beyond what I had previously considered. The ursaring had lost her mate, her lifelong friend, and duty to provide her with some closure was assigned to me, but I had been too cowardly. Slouched beside her was Shard, the loyal and caring support who had propped the ursaring up since they had met. His eyes were still with shame, his spine curved and head dangling above the unearthed soil.

Further up the path, a mangy teddiursa – Bibi – wailed silently, mouth gaping and eyes frantic with fear. Her fur was matted and tangled; she was desperately deprived of a loving touch, and could perceive only confusion and loss. Along the path were countless pokémon lined in a row either side of the road, each one oblivious to another's presence. They too had suffered at my paws, and it was that very thought which gnawed at the rawest section of my mixed mind.

I had only one flareon to blame, and so did they.

                                                                                         ***

Cloud-like wings sliced the air with long strokes, the white fluffiness resting atop the current as if the wind ignored its presence and treated it as kin. Each wing beat steadied the blue pokémon increasingly each time, and her small eyes scanned the treetops as she surveyed the lands from far above. The sunlight pulsed onto her head in a warm wave and pleasantly rolled down her back; had her wings been darker, the sun would have soaked her with heat that would lead to sweat. The thickness of her feathers compensated for the whiteness, however, and heated her unnecessarily anyway.

She tossed her head about, observing as the tall family of frosty mountains in the near distance seemed to grow in size with each passing metre. She would have to return again with the same answer; Derino's pestering did not alter the course before them, and neither did the impatience in his stride or the frequency of which he persisted she check. Her gaze seemed to flicker back and forth as she tried to mentally gather the distance to relay to the travelling party.

She blinked a few times in succession and then wheeled around, retracing her figurative steps as she began to return to the party. She once more assessed the upcoming scenery as she flew back, and began a steep descent to the treetops within a matter of minutes. She weaved through branches and avoided trunks before she exposed her talons and drove her legs into the soil. She came to a halt after a few paces and gazed about, spotting the party further ahead as she twisted her neck.

Heaving a sigh, she picked herself up and glided to catch up with them, landing beside a cream figure with a green helmet that curled to a point just below his forehead. Two red prongs, one each side of the scalp, complimented the single button of the same colour on the pokémon's otherwise green chest.

He whirled to face her, raising one of his green arms. "News, Fluffy?" he teased, legs shrouded with what looked like cream pants walking him sideways.

"It's not news that I'll dragonbreath your face off if you persist with that stupid nickname," she snapped, her small, rounded beak hardly threatening. "But I'll still do it."

The krinar shrugged, pretending his words were not to be taken offensively. "Your choice if you don't wanna play along." He turned back around and whispered something inaudible to the pokémon of similar form beside him. Her cream dress-like attire, frilling at the bottom where it reached her thin thighs, swayed calmly as she walked. Never did her heels touch the soil.

Tarla ignored the obnoxious psychic type and ducked ahead, appearing by the side of the pokémon apparently leading the four. Before she could manage anything, the lilac figure had flicked his head at her and opened his wide maw. "How far?" he demanded, his tone harbouring little patience.

"The mountains don't move," Tarla muttered. "I don't see why I have to keep checking."

"Because I want to know how far away we are," he grumbled, eyes pressed upon by heavy brows. "It doesn't inconvenience you to check!"

"Derino, we know it'll take three to four days to get there. There's no point in checking if we know the path and know the time it will take," she protested, agitation scattered across her face.

"I don't care. I want to know when I want to know, and you're the only one that can fly ahead to check." His gruff voice aided the unreasonable effects that Tarla deemed one of the normal type's less redeeming qualities.

"And they're my wings," she concluded, and, grumbling under her breath, took wing and rested in a high branch nearby. She began preening some wing fluff as she ignored the three below her who passed in no time, and reasoned to herself that she could catch up at any time of her choosing.

With lingering annoyance drifting to the back of her mind, the altaria looked up, admiring a sight she not often had the privilege to witness. The darkness surrounding her which was blotched with spotlights felt more embracive than stifling. The autumn colours of gold and ochre mingled across the forest floor were highlighted in patches by the breaks in the canopy, and trunks stretched far above ground level, their great branches spanning across overhead to sprout forest green sheets of leaves. Each tree stood a measured distance from its neighbours; it was patterned that way for leagues in each direction, creating a comfortable, organised environment. One would feel protected from aerial predators scouring the forest for prey above the treetops, although walking along the ground presented an openness many would consider overexposure. There was nowhere to conceal oneself, as shrubs and bushes were not overly abundant. The warmth encasing the surrounding area was comforting, however, and often detracted from any negative qualities. That was the feel of Torqueal Forest.

She sighed as she marvelled at the sight before her, noting that their journey through this part was to be a short one; by nightfall they would be well away from the beautiful trees as they neared the enormous mountains. Their frostiness stretched across rocky terrain as a slope built up to flat ground and dipped into a valley. She knew the valley's paths split into several directions through the mountains and was home to many caves and rough routes.

With a spacey gaze, she envisioned an event long ago involving those mountains. She remembered the bitter sting that the wind forced upon her face, prioritising endurance and shelter and minimising such feelings as emotion.

--
The chill weaved through even her thick wings and seemed to freeze up her bones as it surged past. She once again reminded herself that her small, round body was less than adequate for surviving such a demanding climate, yet the choice to do so was evidently not hers. She heavily resented what had happened back with her flock... They made a foolish decision, and although she was glad she was away and far distanced from them before she was forced into anything she didn't have a want for. The thought shook her confidence and scraped at her beacon of understanding. It was difficult to comprehend why they would make such a decision. It made no sense.

"You are a part of this flock," they had told her, eyes perfectly rounded as they loomed over her small body. "You are one of us. You will comply with the flock's wishes."

She imagined their cruel presence in her mind, their great wings nearly camouflaging with the troublesome blanket of thick, whipped snow coating the grounds their feet sank into—the same snow they sought to avoid every year at the same time. It was their season to migrate, and yet this time...the flock had decided against tradition, but more importantly, against reason.

"To participate in actions separate to ours would be abandonment; traitorous." Her eyes glared directly in front, through the fall of sporadic snowflakes. Her beak pressed tighter together. "You will be banished!"

The last words stabbed her way were followed by harsh attacks designed to frighten; she was only small, and the four altaria driving her back were beyond intimidating. She shook in her feathers at their brisk snaps and flutter of their wings. She knew the cloud-like arrangement of feathers appeared inoffensive, but to an experienced reciprocator, they were large, suffocating and dangerous. She had needed to flee. The risk was growing, and in the rapidity of their threats and accompanying actions, she was driven back, nearing one of the many cliff edges defining their territory. She was aware that it was an act of condemnation rather than a means to injure her. And even though she knew no physical harm could come from her fall off the cliff, she was horrified that she understood plainly what it meant, and what its purpose was.

It was how they banished traitors.

Knowing she would be forced off the edge without first having a chance to turn and spare herself the shame by flittering away, she had tumbled and rolled, their nips evolving to clamps and the sting of their dragonbreaths beginning a more focused assault. She hurried her backward pace every time she was able to make it to her feet before she was knocked down again.

As her wings cut through the drifting snow, she cringed. She had been driven over the edge. She was unable to salvage even a trace of dignity as she had spiralled down, the wind rushing against her face. A single elder dropped down after her in rapid pursuit. After a swift struggle to capture the wind, she had taken flight and escaped the diving altaria with a timed roll, and flapped furiously away, eager to jam at least a few mountains between her and the flock. She knew she was the one who had betrayed them by opposing their wishes and adhering to hers before theirs, but...she couldn't help feeling it was her that was betrayed, and that her flock was the traitor.

The hardest part was the look. The look in her younger sister's eye as she had tussled backwards in the effort produced by the elders, ironically deemed wise, before her sweet face was abruptly obscured. Their masses had absorbed any vision she had of her only family, and although she was marginally relived the younger pokémon didn't have to see her last moment of exile, she was saddened. She had wanted to see her, to know that she was still there, even if it was while shame was flooding through her mind. She was deeply troubled that her last communication had to be in the worst moment, when not even words could be shared. For that she was thankful in a way; she couldn't bare more pleading and more conveyance of desperation and disappointment. It was mutual, in light of her insistence for her sister to join her cause and stray from the flock's foolish choices, which made their last exchange of words with one another a painful repetition of pleas and refusals. She knew that her sister enjoyed it as little as she, but the discomfort of their situation alone was little to do with its beginning and end. It ended when she was called to offer her cause before the elders, so they could present their judgement. Her reputation and whatever position she may have hoped to gain in the future were lost; she had tarnished any chance she had at a purpose in her flock.

                                                                                         ***

My belly was starting to rumble as my apparent new companion and I stalked the dimming forest in no effort to find food, but to simply move ourselves along, despite the fact that it was growing closer to night. We had stopped for a long while in order to rest a time after passing the area around which Shardclaw, Zhol and I had attempted to hunt the day before, where vegetation was sparse. Because of this break, I was reluctant to waste any more time—the party would be a fair way ahead already, and if we didn't make an effort to catch up, they would very well reach the hideout before we had a chance to meet with them. I knew that travelling through the night while they slept was a most suitable plan, and I didn't care if the dual type following me had objections. Truthfully I had objections of my own, but I dared not voice them; questioning my own orders would encourage him to whine or complain, then justify his protests by pointing out that I was first to voice my annoyance.

I was no good with numbers or estimations, but I knew that we would have to run for large portions of the journey in order to reach them. I had no problem with that, and apparently the houndoom didn't either, but...running with him was the thing that irked me. He had been pretty quiet most of the day, and sometimes didn't respond when I made comments or asked him about something. It was probably his silent revenge for my attitude toward him, but in all honesty, he deserved whatever came to him.

We began to descend a slope of an unusual amount of grass, and I briefly wondered how it was so green amongst the general brown around these parts. It was not something I was familiar with, but imagined that a certain pokémon probably lived nearby that cared for the soil. After we reached the bottom of the hill, the angle of the ground nearly catching me off guard and almost faltering my legs, we came to another part of the forest which had been virtually the same as before. The trees were fairly faded and some were a tiny bit grim, but mostly they were welcoming and partly cosy. I thought that, if some homes and dens were built, this forest would house a group of pokémon very well. Of course, I preferred the luxury of a more developed space, but every community had to begin with a single idea.

"Hey, Flair," the houndoom began, striding a few paces behind me, "do you actually know where we're going?"

I furrowed my brow at the question. Of course I knew where I was going. I wouldn't be blindly leading myself and one other through random territory I wasn't familiar with if I didn't have direct instructions to where the hideout was. "Yes," I told him simply, not deeming the answer important enough to require elaboration.

"A'right," he accepted, giving a brisk nod I hardly picked up on from my peripherals.

I exhaled and tried to clear my mind as I padded on, picking up the pace into a jog. I imagined he would immediately question my pace increase and make some kind of snide remark, but surprisingly he said nothing. I suddenly wondered if he was backing off to allow me room for the possibility of liking him and accepting him as a temporary – for I would never allow such a pokémon to permanently accompany me – companion. It was entirely possible, since he knew that my temper could definitely judge somebody before my head did, and so far he was pretty much only been judged by my angry temperament. It was his own fault, and I was not prepared to take any sort of responsibility for his actions.

After a while of moving, I noticed that the temperature was beginning to drop bit by bit. It was such a small change that my constantly heated body barely noticed, and I was hardly fazed as I kept going. The houndoom, being a fire type as I was, probably shared the inability to notice temperature changes very easily. I wasn't all that interested in asking him, but one question certainly gnawed at my mind—a question that annoyed me to know end. The thing was that if I asked this question, I knew it would get me nowhere, and I would be quite annoyed with the results. I reasoned with myself that I was already expecting the answer, and a specific one at that, so there was no point in trying to hope for another one. And if I was expecting one in particular, why would I bother to show hesitation to ask it, for the reason of being dissatisfied by the answer? It was a pretty confusing notion, but I shoved it out the way and just decided to ask.

"So...why exactly are you following me?" I questioned, turning my head to the left as we carried on, and he skipped a few paces, lengthening his strides momentarily to catch up. He was beside me in no time.

"Because I believe you're foolish," he told me simply, shrugging a bit as he jogged on.

"Foolish?!" I spat, eyes clouding with a scowl entailing minor confusion. "I'm the foolish one? Oh, I'm sorry—I thought the stalker without a reason to stalk somebody who, I might add, has no desire to be stalked, would be the pokémon considered foolish." I rolled my eyes, straining them as I kept them angled to show my immense annoyance at this houndoom. He was arrogant and had no cause to make such an accusation. Even if that was not the answer I had been expecting, it was no better.

"I have a reason," he commented, and my head hovered toward him in a short swivel around. I was confident I would not run head-on into any trees as I faced him, so continued without heed of direction.

"Oh, do you now? And what might that be?"

His sights were set before us, at the trees in the distance, as he admitted, "You have no idea what you're doing."

The answer shocked me a little. I heard my brain fall silent as I considered what he had told me. "I have no idea what I'm doing," I restated flatly. "That is your claim?" I scoffed, finding no evidence to support his words, and saw no harm in challenging the absurd statement. "If you're gonna insult me, at least choose something that's true to use against me." Immediately after I said that, I frowned, reconsidering. No, I didn't want to hear him insult me about something that was true, either. It was less than ideal to hear my faults.

"It's not made absent foundations," he responded, and my mind suspended all thought again, although my legs continued to hurry me along.

"Hey," I growled lowly, the houndoom coming to a stop as I did the same. I faced him with my body braced and my head down, while he stood upright and without assumption of power or defence. "I was given specific instructions pointing me in the direction of this hideout, you know. I'm the one who knows it's abandoned, and I'm the one who was given the task to go and find the party." I raised my head and snorted. "Of course I know what I'm doing!"

At that I felt surely justified. Of course, I didn't need to provide him with any viable justification, but it felt good to know I was confident about my abilities and the fact that I had been assigned to the task.

The houndoom's lips curved into a smile, peeling back to reveal his stained pointed teeth. I was once again surprised by his actions. "You don't know what you're doing," he reinformed quite confidently, and, the grin still painted on his face, began in the direction we were headed before our paws claimed the same patch of soil for an extended period. The way he sauntered off greatly irritated me, and I could feel my jaw starting to spread with the growing pressure of clenching them tightly together. He was clearly amused by the obliviousness he most likely assumed I possessed, like he found himself to be of much higher importance.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, leaping after him. As he heard my strides, however, I saw a flash of his playful – and completely unwarranted – grin before his bounding fasted, slowing as I slowed to allow me the chance to catch up. He waved his tail playfully and began walking in a peculiar fashion obviously intended to be comical. I was not amused.

He was teasing me. TEASING me! With a twitch of my muzzle, I suddenly shot forward with a burst of speed, watching as he was quick to catch on and sprung off the ground, racing away. He was too fast for me, and as my little legs repeated mechanical actions, I was highly agitated to find that I didn't nearly match his pace. Immediately my mind went to Zhol, and I scowled as I wished she were here. She would be able to put him in his place.

Blowing smoke through my nostrils, I galloped on, chasing him between trees and in circles over dwarfish hills. At one point he splashed through the river we had been loosely following, clearly elated far beyond my mood, and seemed unaffected as the water clung to his fur and smoothed it flat. I quickly stopped myself before I had the chance to plunge into the shallow waters, slamming my paws down to unearth the soil and bring me to a halt. I eyed the water with wide-eyed caution and a twinge of fear as I shook my head brusquely, tearing myself away from it to travel back in the direction I had been headed before that wretched houndoom had led me on a wild pursuit. I disapproved greatly of his angering behaviour, and grumbled to myself under my breath as I considered his glaring immaturity.

"Such are males," I growled to myself.

As I stalked off, shoulders hunched and mane fuzzed up around my face, I tried to figure out exactly what he meant. My mind was struggling to come up with anything that made a reasonable amount of sense. I knew that the houndoom was quite fond of teasing me, it seemed, and provoking my tempter, but somehow I sensed he was being truthful, or as truthful as he could have been in his own mind. It was displeasing that he doubted me, because apparently I only had my own faith in myself to draw from and utilise.

I didn't dwell on the question too much, and instead drew a breath, resetting my mind so I could think something about food. At least food didn't intentionally aim to piss me off.

                                                                                         ***

Tarla stretched her wings, elevating herself to beat them against the air and create gushing gales of wind. It gave her shoulders the repeated movement they needed to keep well and gave her a calming sense of comfort. She tucked them beside her body as she hopped up and settled onto a low-hanging branch under the tree of which the three other party members took shelter. It was open, quite exposed to the rest of the forest, but the atmosphere was tranquil, and it seemed as if nothing would dare disturb their quiet night. She assumed nobody else would want to be disturbed either and bother themselves with pointless efforts to initiate a fight. Four experienced battlers were not to be reckoned with, especially if no harm was intended by them, and no cause for alarm needed to be raised.

"You're right up there, Fluffy?" the krinar from below called up with a chuckle, a knee bent as he rested an elbow against it, the rest of his arm hanging. His left arm extended behind him for support. Beside him was the kirlia, who sat silently with crossed legs. The granbull was keeping himself occupied with sticks varying in length and thickness around the other side of the trunk.

The altaria gave him a sneer of contempt, turning away whilst pressing her beak together. She heard the ralts evolution question her actions and feign innocence, although Tarla had a feeling he really did believe himself not guilty. That was not of concern to her, however; she wanted some peace and quiet, eager to enjoy Torqueal Forest in all its serenity without an oblivious krinar to present constant irritation on a silver platter. He was a dark red stain of pure annoyance, like a jabbing toothpick in her side, which she had originally found slightly disappointing, but had figured that not many others were as mature as she. It would come with age and experience, she told herself, and long awaited the day he would grow out of it.

Blocking him out didn't seem to work, however, and as he babbled on, half addressing her in the process, she wondered if his sole purpose was to serve as a sort of symbol for everything annoying that had ever come into existence. The prospect would hardly come as a surprise to her, though, and silently she was thankful that he was incapable of any such ability as cloning himself. She didn't know how she would cope if there were two of him.

Sick of his voice, the dragon and flying type launched herself off her perch, her back to the small party as she carved an unscheduled path through the air. Her mind swirled with irritation as she heard the cries of the krinar protesting for her return and claiming apologies that she knew meant nothing. It wasn't long before he presumably gave up, and she exhaled once more, certain that she was not going to be returning for the night. She figured that in the morning, when they passed, she would join up with them. Either that or she would fly ahead by herself.

Finding a suitable tree to spend the night, she climbed the night air and landed her feet on a branch. The smooth bark with raised freckles were comfortable under her scaly toes, and as she shaped herself and felt her feathers settle, she knew she had chosen the right tree with the right branch. Fluffing up, she thought about the next day, when she would probably be asked once again by Derino to again determine their estimated time of arrival at the mountains. If not an estimation of time, then of distance. It was as if he didn't understand that such vast land was not going to shift at any point during their journey.

Her mind lingered on the thought of those mountains. She again reminded herself of their significance to her. They were both her home and the only place she had been expelled from. She had mixed feelings toward the giant mounds of thickened earth, fickle like the snow that could melt with little to sway it. She was content with the colony, but there was always that lingering feeling...that cruel sadness that reminded her of the point in her life when everything was rejected into a pit of everlasting change.

--
Nothing seemed exactly real; the swablu flew on, not allowing herself the pleasure of gliding until she was far from the flock, and sped onward. She was fairly horrified at what had recently happened. Not only was her dignity spat on and rolled in the mud, but any trace of trust she had with those she thought she knew seemed gone. Her whole life she had lived with them, helped improve it, sought protectors in the older pokémon, and found friends of all ages. It was a pleasant life of happiness, and yet...she was pushed from its embrace like she was never there. Like she never had a chance to make a difference, or to even deserve a place among her kin. She felt as if she had put her whole mind and body into the flock, and it was exceedingly unfair that her banishment was not given a second thought. It was their fault for making such a stupid decision...

The thought suddenly occurred to her that she was endangering her sister even further by allowing her to stay with that flock. She wished with all her heart that she agreed to come with her...even if it meant they were both exiled. At least then they would be able to be together and support one another, even under such circumstances. However, that was clearly impossible as they were separated, and Tarla felt enormous regret for what her sister would be put through. It was as if she alone knew. That was what frightened her as well—her flock was charging headfirst into a foolish decision, and nobody but her realised that. They had had no time to properly consider any of it, and were immensely foolish for pretending they knew the effects on the flock it would have. She knew those so called "benefits" were nothing but lies, whatever they supposedly were.

The wind picked up, blasting her face with more force than before. She noticed with surprise that her thoughts had taken her far from her mountain already; she must have been flying for a minimum of an hour. As she realised that she was flying head-on into a blasting current of wind, she gasped suddenly for air, finding it difficult to swallow anything but more snow as she continued. Sometimes a piece would wedge itself into her nostril, and she had to gather the strength to let a dragonbreath surge through her beak, erupting from the only place it could go—her nostrils. However, using the move repeatedly drained her energy, and as she waded on through the falling snow as the shadowy sky above her bled with increasing darkness, she found herself growing progressively exhausted.

It was not a pleasant feeling as she realised she was drifting away from reality, her wings faltering as she plunged downward into an unintentional dive, but quickly righted herself and shook off, the two stray feathers that sprouted from her head wobbling with her. Another spec of snow became lodged in her left nostril, and she coughed, feeling the strange buzz of the dragonbreath excite her throat before being admitted through the holes atop her beak.

'I need to rest,' she thought to herself, and began to cast her glance about. The mountains were endless; the fact that she was not a very effective flier in both manoeuvring and speed did not help her cause, but she doubted the hours of mountains stretched below her would end even if she could fly harder, faster and stronger. She already felt as if she were going to collapse, and she didn't even try to think of how she might have felt if she had been required to apply more energy to her movements. It would only have drained her more.

She was forced to shield her eyes with her eyelids as she searched for a spot to land somewhere, and began her descent. The snow was growing denser and increased with purpose. She knew the signs to be those of an oncoming blizzard, and she would not have much time before it would be upon her with relentless mercilessness.

Keeping the thought at the fore of her thoughts, she weaved through the air as if attempting to dodge the falling iciness, and watched as a mountain turned from a spiked lump to a detailed expanse of angled land whose elements grew in size as she neared. She could spot trees dotting stray parts of the mountainside that she previously had been too high up to identify—either that or she had simply been unfocused. She gave credibility to the latter thought as much as she did the first.

She figured a rest in the trees would mostly likely keep her safe, but as she neared, the branches nearly in reach, she reconsidered. Resting in a tree would present a number of problems such as her vulnerability, which would surely attract predators. Either that or she would be sheltered none from the fierce weather which she knew was to come, and may not last. She had been caught in a blizzard once before and barely survived, and vowed never to make the same foolish mistakes again.

She was quick to find an alcove in a looming wall of rock far from the ground, so she knew she would be sheltered from any sort of beast looking to satisfy their hunger or rid intruders from their territory. It was a relief that she could sleep both sheltered from the weather and any predators which may have taken her.
As she perched on the edge of the hollow, peering out over the ground and silently staring into the distance to determine which mountain she had come from, she sighed, spilling onto the solid rock with exhaustion and disbelief. She knew it would take her a while to come to terms with her exile, and most importantly, never seeing her sister again. Or, if she did, she feared the circumstances it might be in.

The worst was obvious to her: she would face her as enemy in a fight against the pokémon she chose to stand with, or she would one day find her dead. She could have tried eventually to escape the flock's grasp once she discovered what exactly she was wedging herself into, what treachery lay with the monsters that the flock thoughtlessly decided to join with, and wound up lost and injured in the process of her escape or the journey to find her older sister.

She found herself clenching her eyes closed and shaking her head, her fluffy wings pasted to the side of her body in a stiff reaction to her painful thoughts. She eyed the ground with sadness she hadn't really felt in a long time. Not since she and her sister's mother was taken from them all too early in a flying accident. They had, from then on, sworn never to part, and to be by one another's side until they were physically incapable. As Tarla surveyed the land before her, unable to find the mountain in the distance from which she hailed, she felt her entire body flop, as if her bones had melted without warning. She would call the situation she was currently facing pretty physically limiting, but she couldn't help but think that there would have been a way she could convince her sister, the only family she had, to join her. As much as she didn't want her exiled from the flock that their family had been with for generations, it was more dangerous to remain with them. She wanted least of anything for her sister's life to be put at risk.

She had always thought the flock independent. Years before when she was but a chick, the flock had been offered an opportunity to join up with a taillow and swellow flock, but due to climatic differences and assorted other factors, her flock declined. It had never accepted an offer to expand with another altaria and swablu flock either, for the sheer purpose of independence, and because it was not at all needed. There was no reason for them to meld, and therefore they did not.

But now...not they not only joined with another group that was not even a flock, but they tarnished all that they had previous stood for. It was as if some spell had been cast by a psychic pokémon to make the elders believe that they were making the right decision. She briefly considered the possibility of this and shook her head in disbelief; she had always respected the elders. They were not easily swayed or tricked, so why was this rash decision so effective?

Releasing a sigh and feeling her limbs lose form again, she turned away from the scenery, as if a promise to separate herself from the flock that betrayed her. None but her sister was blood-related, but they had still been her family. And now not even the one who was blood related was with her any longer.

Her gaze wondered further back into the cave, and she wondered how far back it stretched. She was only able to see shallowly into its depths, only a few metres in, and the rest was a black mist of the unknown. For all she knew, a beartic could have been jammed at the back, calculating the right moment to leap on her and take her life, and then her meat. Nervous, she glanced down the length of her body and tried to convince herself that she looked fairly devoid of meat, and not to be overly tasty. She didn't eat much meat, but she knew she would have a taste for it when she evolved, as altaria often did. She suspected being part dragon-type had something to do with that. Even though she might not have thought herself nutritionally enticing, it was not herself she needed to convince.

She had to take her chances, and settled where she stood. The chill of the growing winds blasted into the cave, and she shook with the cold, wondering to herself how much she would be able to withstand. The mountain she had lived on was not extensively elevated, and the spot she had presently chosen to rest was at a much higher altitude. It wasn't much colder than what she was normally used to, but the many caves and alcoves at her home mountain were prefect protected from the blizzard and general weather. Her flock would usually wander near to the back of their caves, and she knew that remaining where she was at the mouth was going to freeze her wings and meld her beak shut—if she could stay put long enough to allow that to occur. She feared she would freeze to death before that happened.

Once more averting her gaze to the ends of the cave, she hoped that it would suddenly become lighter so that she could see. She was hesitant to use a dragonbreath to light the darkness that dove so deeply into the cave, in case she aggravated a pokémon who had called the particular cave home for a period of time she had no chance of matching.

After a good ten minutes of internal debate with herself, she had come to the conclusion that even if she did disturb a pokémon who would clearly not be happy, she could simply fly back out.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and planted her feet. Contemplation soaked her stance before she finally jerked out of her frozen form and brewed a hot batch of sheltered flames. She felt her throat tumble with the dragonbreath as she inhaled once more and fired, sending a crackling stream through the darkness. She watched as little nooks and crannies in the shapeless walls were revealed, the pebbles scattered along the floor also brightening. She noticed that the cave was not long and rounded off only about ten metres away, but right as she silenced her attack, she noticed something peculiar.

She furrowed her brow feathers and fired again, this time short and sharp, like a huff, and expelled a sphere of the dark matter down the left wall, watching as it shot straight through a passage that was to the left of the rounded off section of the cave. Essentially the cave continued on, rather than stopping at the far wall, to the left. She watched as it dissipated before hitting anything, as a fireball composed of dragonbreath was often not stable enough to keep its composition until it hit the target if it was far from when the ball began.

She curiously began to take tiny steps toward it. Her mind warned her against such actions, and encouraged contentment with the end of the cave, the part with a dipped wall which would cradle her and keep her alert if something did come out of the left (or right, if she faced the entrance) passage. If something happened to fly or climb to the cave's lip before entering the mouth, she would also be prepared. Like her, she assumed any pokémon that could appear would see only endless darkness to begin with, so if escape was necessary, she believed she would have the advantage. Despite struggles against it, curiosity battled with rationality and edged her toward the left passage.

She only took a few steps before she heard movement and wings, and knew instantly that they were not wings of her kind. She didn't dare fire another sphere of dragonbreath as she stood frozen, unable to move, and knew that something was about to burst from the passage and probably swallow her whole. Worse than that, it could tear at her flesh and eventually place her eyeballs and beak in separate piles.

The imagery fluttered about her mind, and before she had a chance to react into a defensive form, the pokémon spilled into sight, illuminated by the light from outside the cave, and Tarla was thrown backward, tumbling as she unintentionally linked the experience with her banishment. She hadn't time to identify the pokémon before she realised the force was going to fling her off the lip of the cave and onto the ground below, and struggled against gravity idea until she dropped from the ledge with a cry of distress.