You’ve got your bag strap on your non-dominant arm’s shoulder. Only a scratch?
No story just yet... it’s followed me a few odd nights. I thought it could smell my rations, or maybe it was territorial about Harebell, but it wasn’t interested in food. I don’t know. Just a strange energy about it.
I told you that wee one was going to be your ace sooner or later. It's got a good spirit. Brave little grub. Are they sending you to PT?
Business as usual. There's this Ninetales... looking... something that's been showing up often. But it could be an illegal release. What do you think, Capturer?
[(squeak)] You have your personal bubble and I have mine and I like them to be two bubbles. How did everything go?
Aye. Nepo baby. How are you now.
Do you know how to DIY a splint for it?
That’s an interesting statement, about ascribing moral values. What would you say motivates them, then? Pure hunting instinct?
Flareon strongly disagreed with you on that one so I trusted her judgement.
PHEW
Oh, wow, that is a MASSIVE relief, thank you. I’ve hit my weekly limit for getting hexes and Future Sight. I’m enjoying reading yours too. Doubly so that I know they’re nothing for me. I just work here.
It *is* beautifully written.
First post on my feed when I return from the trail… alright! Sure!
Neither you nor me. But, yeah, someone has to do it. Young folk walk these trails. And the closer they get to the Crown Shrine… well, if there’s any place that needs rangers, it’s this. It’s a paycheck.
Wow… an illusion that wide-reaching must have been powerful. You’re lucky to tell the tale.
It’s a shame that that young lady from the Kalos circuit never turned up. Maybe she’s on a very long undercover project. I always did like reading her articles. Kept me fresh on my foreign language skills.
I'm just a park ranger. But the Crown Tundra is a curious place. Lots of uninhabited wilderness. Old things that got pushed out of industrialized Galar had to relocate somewhere. At least that's what I think.
Do you think it was a changeling that you encountered?
I'm going back to the station now!
Hm!
Don't like this!
Hm. Footprints around my campsite again.
Oh. Wow, right up in the school, that is *boldly* close to civilization.
I've encountered their kind plenty but I think being tied over a bonfire by Impidimp was the closest story... they let me wander for three days before I figured out I was inside of a circle. Pocket dimensions! Clever devils.
Chiitan is a Fairy.
Where, when, what happened?
I only ask because I can empathize.
@ichi.poke.surf Kidnapped by Fae? Can I be nosy?
Illustration of some fairy pokemon featured are alolan ninetales, alolan vulpix, togekiss, comfey, marill, azumarill, azurill, togetic, sylveon, jigglypuff, galarian ponyta, galarian rapidash, piplup who isnt fairy but they evolve into one okay 🫵🤓, same with brionne, and lastly primarina
But I think about him, a lot. That young man with the wolf’s eyes. He never asked for my name. I don’t think it was one of their tricks. Another Legend’s, maybe. The time-warpers. But not Fairies.
I hope he went back to wherever he came from in one piece.
We wear our protective medallions, and we leave offerings, and we stay alert, and when things in the woods ask for our name we never give it out. There’s Fairies in these woods. Hungry ones, with powerful magic. I have type advantage. It’s not always enough.
It happens sometimes, in these woods. The Vanishing. These woods are a favorite of many trickster Legends. Not to mention the Impidimp colonies.
But I was fine. Wasn’t sick or damaged when I returned back to base, after days of searching. I hadn’t hallucinated. He ate my food, and drank my vodka, and bled on my boot. And I saw the footprints. Pawprints, in the snow. They veered off, and then altogether disappeared.
Anyhow, the man with my brother’s face, him and his frantic talk of curses and old gods and werewolves. I thought maybe hypothermia had set in once and for all and I was hallucinating comfort as I died. He stepped back outside of my tent to take a leak, and never came back.
He cut his finger on one of my whittling blades, by accident, and I swear he bled gold. There’s still a stain on the toe of my boot. No one believes me. We’ve all seen things, in these woods, but no one believes each other. That’s just how it goes.
