Yoshiro wrinkles her nose in faint distaste at the appearance of an Impidimp from the tall grass, the diminutive creature darting about her boots to pull Hoshiko's tail. Even as the fox pokemon puffs up in shrill indignance, its master glances once in the direction of Georgette, and - once determining the other woman is already occupied in coaxing the Cleffa, simply punts the offending imp back into the tall grass, little more than a waning shriek evidence of the transaction.

Her shoulders lifted slightly in a shrug should the other trainer turn around to look, Yoshiro intones smoothly, "That makes sense." And then, finally deigning to bend down and scoop up Hoshiko, the Zorua tucked in the crook of her arm well out of wild pokemon reach for the time being, "He will choose the time when he is ready, I suppose."

Georgette Bluebottle

☉

"Tch," a low sound of disapproval escapes Yoshiro in turn, her countenance guarded to prevent the flicker of irritation that wants desperately to bleed through. With a slow exhalation, as if this were a conversation she'd had far too many times to not be tired of it, she asserts, "I have no vested interest in his evolution save that it please him."

"Though there's no shortage of alternative thought on the matter," Yoshiro observes in turn, pondering the Cleffa for a moment before shifting her hold on Hoshiko. The Zorua paws at her a few times until she readjusts once more, only settling down when seeming to have found the most comfortable means of resting in the crook of the other's arm.

With a contented little chirp, the Zorua seems about to take an impromptu nap when the other pokemon appear. The Cutiefly does not take long to drift over in their direction, performing a cursory circle around Yoshiro's head before bumping into her temple with a soft bonk that sends a little puff of pollen into the air. The process continues several times over as the yakuza continues down the path, little smudges of gilded dust left behind on clothes and skin wherever the little insect collides.

"Fine. Fine," the ink-adorned woman acquiesces when it finally alights upon her nose, effectively stopping her cold. Blowing a bit of air at it, which fails to dislodge the creature as it inches up the bridge of her nose to offer its largest, most imploring eyes at her, Yoshiro intones. "You can come along."

A pokeball removed for use with care not to wake her Zorua, she opens it, allowing adequate time for the Cutiefly to traipse in if it wishes.

Georgette Bluebottle + Yoshiro catching Cutiefly

☉

 Yoshiro emits a soft snort of her own at the comment, raking her hand through her hair to free any last bits of pollen as best she can. Seemingly on the fence about the sincerity of the other woman's commentary, though perhaps a touch too distracted by the Cutiefly's antics to respond, she offers a cursory nod once the little bug pokemon has been secured and quickens her pace to keep up with Georgette, the Zorua hopping and bounding along beside her.



It is with a critical air that she observes the interaction between the Florges and the Froslass, noting in particular the eagerness of the latter to engage in combat. Glancing from the newly arrived Aron up toward Georgette, she offers a brief nod before answering with a smooth, "I would."


"Your Froslass is quite capable," Yoshiro remarks idly as she crouches down beside the boulder, crooking a tattooed finger toward the Aron to encourage it over. Cracking open a pokeball and gently rolling it to a stop at the creature's feet, she asks of Georgette, "Do you battle with her often?"

Georgette Bluebottle + Yoshiro catching Aron

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"You were very lucky," Yoshiro intones with a subtle incredulity, perhaps a touch of respect in her timbre as she observes the Froslass, as if taking the measure of that past situation. With a smooth roll of her shoulders as if to loosen them as they pass by a slowly lumbering Stonjourner, she confides, "My father always considered that there were no greater honor than to be chosen by one's pokemon, over the reverse. That she would defend you from a Tauros is impressive."

Amusement soon touches her features as she steers Hoshiko away from the tall grass with the side of her boot, several repetitions of the action completed before the Zorua nips at her laces and consigns itself to walking on the path.

"Hoshiko is..." Yoshiro seems to mull over her choice of words carefully before settling on. "Adept in many facets of my line of work, but also...rather enthusiastic? We strike a good balance when she has ample outlets for that."

Georgette Bluebottle

☉

Her movements fluid as she continues along the path, occasionally doing a hop-skip step to throw Hoshiko off her game, as if they were children playing and not a yakuza or the pokemon most oft used to reduce grown men to tears, Yoshiro nonetheless nods her agreement with Georgette Bluebottle , advising, "We are lucky to have them, I often think."

"Size doesn't have that much to do with it," she confirms, almost tripping when the Zorua darts for her shoelaces and she compensates in order to avoid stepping on the fox's tail, a breathless little laugh escaping her when she finds her footing. "They all have their own talents. Torao is a bruiser. Tatsuo is - quite literally - bulletproof. Hoshiko has an innate knack for...helping to untangle truths, when we detain someone."

As if in response to the ruckus with the Morgrem, the nearby grass starts to blacken and wilt, a hint of smoke rising from therein as the armoured form of a Turtonator makes it's presence known. When the Zorua blinks up at her as if in question, Yoshiro gestures toward it and intones amusedly, "Go deal with it, then."

The fox pokemon slinks into the grass at that, clearly having hatched a Nasty Plot. And while she is, indeed, much smaller than the pokemon in the weeds, over time, she proves much faster and cunning, darting in and out in quick movements to tire out the slower, more armoured foe. When it seems to slow significantly, Yoshiro hurls a pokeball out toward it for good measure.

"Friendly wager?" she inquires of Georgette afterwards, the corner of her lips curling faintly. "We see at least...six more of the Impidimp line before we make it back to town."

Georgette Bluebottle

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