Oh no. Ms. Olson departed with her partner, and he found himself feeling an oppressive loneliness viscous enough to breathe with each waking breath not spent in her company. When it came to his interactions with others of his ilk, he found himself deficient in popularity. Perhaps it was the eccentric, emerald plumage—or maybe the massive eyes which seemed to pry into the very souls of those unfortunate enough stand within his stout, foot-high wake. Either way, the aura and aesthetic he sported worked against him—and his salvation lay in the human who happily took him in and showed him affection.

Ever the quiet one, those gargantuan windows to the soul trained on the duo who departed from himself and his nearby feathered associate. A thousand-yard stare imposed on the two as he found his latest plight being the gnawing void in his heart; the feeling that spread through his feathers and talons akin to a numbing anesthesia, the thirty seconds away from his trainer encompassing and lacerating his psyche. Well, no, that might have been an exaggeration—but nonetheless, the grass quill Pokémon twisted around to face the fellow bird who addressed him with his giant black saucers centered with a pinpoint of light; eyes derived straight from a horror movie. Still, he sounded strangely pleasant.

“Indeed—well, to an extent. You see, not for too long—that would be quite taxing, you see, and certainly not adequately enough to bear Ms. Olson’s form atop me! Oh, how I wish I was far more adept at it, and that I were much larger…”


@matilda