For a moment, the world seemed to spin. Her ears rang with the force of the meteor Pokemon’s impact. The dust in the air obscured the area temporarily, things only becoming clearer as the errant stones settled. Sharp, raw pains in her arms and hands joined the constant ache of her back. Though she could not see them beneath the coating of dirt, Aubre knew she’d probably scraped something in the explosion.

“Nnngh.” With a groan, the redhead forced herself into a sitting position. Her legs slowly drew inward, coming to a stop at a 45-degree angle. But any further movement seemed like a bad idea. Just in case the sky decided to fall some more. A concerned voice drew emerald eyes upward. “I believe a few Minior went off course—” The ginger coughed into her right sleeve, the gesture doing nothing but further dirtying her face.

“Mama!” A scared little voice called out from the clearing. Seconds later, a tiny, frilly shape burrowed into her chest. The impact had not reached the toddler’s hiding spot, but the noise and screaming had left her shaken. A fact made more obvious by the fact that she was hugging Aubre. Michaela did not often display affection often. Clink! Arthur, a Girafarig limped behind her, his gleaming prosthetic visible through the dust.

She wiggled her toes. Fingers, meanwhile, flexed testingly. Nothing appeared to be broken. “I am a little banged up but whole. Thank you for checking.” Her eyes filled with panic as she tightened her grip on her daughter. One scarred hand lifted to gently stoke the snow-white hair, her voice making soothing noises. “It’s all right, Michaela. Just a surprise, that’s all.” A shard of brown stone lay near her left foot. It wobbled in the grass as a breeze shuffled through.

Aubre gasped, trying her best to stand. “Have you seen the Minior?” That impact had been hard. No doubt this one would end up as injured as its counterpart. Which, to her, seemed like being scalped. “I was trying to help it.” Then, she remembered the second crater. “Them.” She coughed.

If there were not lives at stake, Aubre would have lingered in her daughter’s touch. Such shows of affection were lessening as of late. Michaela had discovered a stubborn independent streak. With that, came a sudden aversion to mommy’s hugs and kisses. Which, Aubre supposed was better than the total indifference the girl displayed toward her father. More amusing, however, was the toddler’s newfound insistence on mismatched shoes.

“Me too….” The redhead murmured to herself, allowing scarred fingers to linger on her daughter’s dirt-streaked curls. In this situation, there’d been no time to contemplate mortality—hers nor her child’s. But, as the dust settled, the gravity of what might have happened crashed into her like a more figurative meteor. What if you lost her today? A few yards over and either of you could have a star-shaped hole in your chest. With a slight tremble to her voice, Aubre repeated her earlier statement. Her lips pressed gently against the peak of her daughter’s forehead. “Me too.”

Still, now was not the time to break. The Minior did not do this on purpose and deserved help. After all, something about this, like so many problems in the natural world, was likely humanity’s fault. That was one reason Aubre woke up every day to do the job that she did. It was an attempt to try and make up for all the wrongs her kind had visited on this planet. Though she freely admitted it felt like digging to Kanto with a spoon.

The talk of the impact made the woman sigh. You forgot about them for a minute, didn’t you? Way to go, Aubre. Some doctor you are. ” Dark-lashed eyes lifted to the new gouge in the canopy. “At least they will be easy to find.” Just follow the carnage to its endpoint and see what was left at the end of the figurative rainbow. Gently grasping her child’s hand, she and the Girafarig moved in the direction of the destruction.

His prosthetic creaked with each step as he gently nudged the toddler forward.

“Can you check on the other one, please? It should be just past that tree. The one with the GY on it.” Likely a message from some long-ago lovers. Why people thought massacring plants was romantic, the doctor would never know.

After a moment, a small plume of smoke led her to a hole. At its base, a Minior blinked a bright green. Making sure no one was behind her, Aubre tugged her jacket off. Beneath the sleeves, angry scars curled from the edges. “Come here. I just want to take a look at you.” Her words were soothing. Not caring about the dirt, she pulled the rock type from his impromptu tomb.

“Well, I—I don’t think this one's injured. Just shaken.” Aubre chuckled. “His head must be as hard as mine.”