The odd look did not meet any sort of offense. The fall seemed rather hard. The man could have a concussion or be trying to shake off the side effects of the sudden attack.

Archer was not the only one to panic at the sight of red. As she rushed to the downed duo’s side, her heart dropped into her shoes. This was not something she was equipped to do at a mall. The floor was unsanitary. Discarded food wrappers littered it. Then, of course, there was the bad lighting. “Oh, Arceus! Hang on! Let me see if I can—” What if the ghost needed emergency surgery? Could she sew anything with a potato peeler? This panic ended when she noticed the chocolate chips swirled into the red. “O-o-oh…” It was just ice cream.

Before she could process the sight, the vendor approached her with his story. Green eyes stared up at him with a raccoon-in-the-headlights expression.

Dark green eyes flickered to the cart as she rose back to her feet. Dark blue jeans now sported red velvet knees. “You saw a hungry Pokemon. One in that state, likely through no fault of its own?” Few Pokemon had the ability to buy their own food. “And, you ordered your Froslass--a ghost that was already in the freezer--to assault it?” Aubre was surprised to find her anger spiking. Typically, she was not so much a mighty mouse as an anxiety-ridden one. “Did you think what could have happened if you missed?”

The scars on her back throbbed dully in a reminder of the risks of an off-leash attack. What if the ice type had frostbitten someone’s fingers off? They used to eat lost travelers once upon a time. “You—you should be ashamed of yourself.” Her hands sweated as she turned to Archer. “Not that stealing is ever okay, but it’s not as—” Money could be made back up. Ice cream could be remade. “--reckless as what you just did.”

At her side, Alister sparked with annoyance. His baby blues, however, were not locked onto the shopkeep. They were focused on the little weasel who owned the ghost type. He knew whose fault this really was.

The outburst over, Aubre suddenly felt the weight of what she’d done. It was like the spine she formed was now a kettlebell hanging from empty hands. That was not to say she thought what she said was wrong, quite the opposite. That did not mean some part of her didn’t feel guilty for speaking up. But one glance at the stunned ghost took care of that.

Violence was never okay. Or, well, not unless both parties consented to it. It wasn’t that she wanted to ban Pokemon battles or anything. Even if she, personally, tried to avoid them.

The ghost type’s trainer was nowhere near as reassuring. Even as the doctor tried her best to remain composed, she could feel his eyes on him. To fight off the pins-and-needles sensation, the ginger offered him a small, nervous smile. Fortunately, the young man decided it was time to open his mouth, which made this far less awkward. “I am sorry if I—I was not trying to accuse you of stealing.” The lizard at her feet snorted, big blues rolling upward. A shoed foot gently prodded Alister. “But it’s an understandable interpretation, I’d think.”

Reminded that she herself skipped breakfast, the talk of hunger made her stomach rumble. The fact that she craved ice cream of all things was equal parts ironic and depressed. “Well, in the future, I hope she asks first. She could have gotten hurt.” Even the undead was susceptible to injury in the right (or, well, wrong) circumstances.

The vendor drew green eyes up. Why was he whining like that? “Well, I think not having to pay a fine might make up for some of it. Or, well, all of it. I suppose it depends on how much ice cream you have.” The stand did not look too big. So, she doubted it’d be that much work. Trying to ignore the vendor’s look of desperation, the redhead folded her arms over her chest.

After what felt like an eternity, Aubre released a sigh. Out from her pocket came her wallet and a very lux credit card. It was her husband’s, in truth. But the redhead knew she was still on the account. And, well, it wouldn’t really change anything. “How much was it?” She moved towards the counter as she spoke, resignation in every step.

With his trainer out of sight, the Heliolisk pulled out his memo pad from his little bag. With it came a small blue pen. Using this, he wrote a small message. Moving to type Archer on the leg, Alastor offered him the sheet. In crisp handwriting were two words: “You suck.”

Aubre surprised herself sometimes. Or, well, a lot of the times. After the attack, she thought the lioness in her had shifted into a mewling kitten. Its teeth were ripped out and its voice along with it. But, more and more lately, the redhead wondered if it’d just gotten quiet. The sheepish part of her regretted stepping in here, but morally she knew it’d been the right thing to do. Attacking other people—especially in a crowded place—was never okay.


The ghost type’s show of affection was met with a small, somber smile.It reminded her of how Elouise used to give her hugs. Which, for a Mantine, were always a clumsy, messy thing. “See to it that you do, all right?” Aubre murmured softly, putting on her best mom expression.She even folded her arms for good measure, though the nervousness was still visible. “Losing a partner isn’t easy.” A fond look was dropped to Alastor at her feet. “Right, Al?” The lizard just grunted, blinking moisture away from his baby blues.


Alastor shook his head at his trainer as she stepped back from the counter. Though it didn’t seem like a huge deal—since her rat of a husband wouldn’t miss it—the Helioptile knew that she’d have done it if she’d been starving. The dummy always put others first. Even shifty weasels like this guy. His pen scribbled across the page’s bottom. “I hope so.” His attention then shifted to the ghost-type. He pointed to another line. “You too.”


Aubre stepped away from the counter. For a moment, panic clouded her face. What am I going to do with all of this ice cream? I don’t even know what half of these taste like! But there’s so much food insecurity—it would be wrong to just throw it out. After a deep breath, she felt a smile cross her face. “Excuse me, um, I’m sorry I did not get your name.” She turned to Garrett. “But do you think you could help me carry these?” Not wanting to be seen as lazy, she held up a hand. “I do mean help, by the way. I would not ask you to do something I wouldn't."


A smile appeared on her face. “I am hoping some kids are in the mood for vanilla and—” Green eyes narrowed. Her nose wrinkled. “Red…seduction?” As her idea was given, Aubre saw red rise in the vendor’s cheeks. “And, well, most kids won’t mind that a ghost touched it. I mean most of them would find that pretty cool.” A pause followed. “Or, well, at least some of them would.”


Nothing gave her the right to speak for all kids.