Frankly, if Howard had been stuck on Route 119, he would've let himself get announced as missing too. It was far better than confessing that you were within a thirty kilometer radius of the Weather Institute.

Howard hated meteorologists.

The archaeologist's western explorer aesthetic made him stick out like a sore thumb, especially given the fact that his backpack towered over him and was complete with everything that someone needed to survive in the Hoennese wilderness. Sleeping bags, iodine, crackers, and a mountain of trail mix that would allow Howard to feast for hours.

"I'll show them! I'll show everyone!" Howard muttered loudly as he ate a slice of beef jerky. Delicious, for 7 PD a piece. "I'm gonna prove that this is an ancient relative to modern Ursaring!"

Howard had a few other theories, but historians were good at one thing: latching onto their own theory and continuously bleating until people universally agreed that they were correct. He'd confirm that this bear existed, he'd get the money he was promised, and then he'd continue his study on ancient funeral urns.

A faultless plan. Howard eyed a Lotad floating in a pond and tossed it a scrap of jerky. An offering for what lied ahead.

---

Area 2
Notes: Overprepared Howard! Feeding Lotads, talking to himself loudly. @area2squad

is this a group of investigators, or a search party? nikola heard about the people who have disappeared, and though there's some concern for them faintly in their head, they're mostly focused on discovering the cause. treat the disease itself, not the symptoms, they figure. they've followed other people to area 2, and they gaze around at the strangers nearby. their umbreon is at their side, lighting the way with her faint blue glow. if only i had a pokemon who knew defog... it's getting harder and harder to see.

as they're walking, they trip over a tree branch and fall face-first into the muck with a startled yelp. the ground squelches underneath them; they're uninjured, but their glasses are covered in mud and they can't see even after they pick themself up off the ground. nikola lets out a pathetic little whine and tries to clean the lens on their jacket, but... their jacket is muddy too.

luna, their umbreon, noses at them. "does anybody have something i can use to clean my glasses...?" nikola calls out into the fog.

It's a long trudge to get where you need to go, and in weather as bad as this, it feels even longer. You're soaked by rain from head to toe, and you're splattered in mud from toe to head. It's really put a damper on your mood, y'know? These are hardly the kind of conditions you want to be monster hunting in. It's harshing your vibes.

But, hey, you can't really complain. Not with the crazy check you'll be cashing if you manage to bag this beast. And that's just the payout for the bounty! You've already got a whole elaborate plan for how to escalate that higher: First a few dozen media appearances, then a few dozen more sponsorship deals, and finally ending on a cushy TV show that'll pay you more than you're worth. Then the licensing fees for your likeness will start coming in, and then you'll REALLY be in the green.

At least, that's the idea, anyway. You've got to find the thing first before you can profit off it. To that end, you've "recruited" Grigori Sokolov to act as your "assistant" in this endeavour. With his brains, his brawn, and your complete lack of scruples, you'll be done here in no time.

Or, you would be, if it wasn't for all this walking. The damned bastard taxi driver wouldn't take his shitty cab all the way into the wetlands, so you've been walking for the past thirty minutes straight. Fucking asshole. Doesn't he know you need all the stamina you can get for this monster hunt?

"Gregory, are we there yet?"

---

TL;DR: Shred walks and whines with Grigori Sokolov to Area 1.

If it weren’t for the conditions of their environment, the fact that he found out about this through Shred hoping to 'make bank', or how they had walked for long enough to nearly kill his good mood, Gregori would’ve been a lot happier given the task.

Rarely did the opportunity to do good AND not step on the ever-present toes of his association arise. Even better when the thing he had to intervene in didn’t involve a person. His heart went out to the victims of this dastardly bear, but it was too late for them. Now it was critical they find the newest round of missing people.

And equipped with tall rubber boots, at least his feet only contended with the thick sweat that built up from a hike through the bog. The positives were important. “Mr. Shred, I’m afraid my answer is still the same as it was two minutes ago: We’ll arrive when we do.”

That wasn’t a lie. They would very much arrive to the small search party in time. However, he was sure they’d taken a wrong turn along the way. Or went straight when they weren’t supposed to. And with Shred, he couldn’t reveal that his capabilities for travel without a GPS were… poor, to say the least.

Shred would call him the ‘result of a failed chainsaw-lobotomy’, and he wasn’t about to be yelled at when he'd need the strength for when they did find their target. Maybe he should’ve brought a map to this thing after all.

The rain made the consideration a moot one. It’d just get ruined in the rainfall, which the grunt had no protection from. Oh, to be a Seedot that huddled for cover underneath the leaves above. “The search party wouldn't leave without accounting for all the members that signed up, right Mr. Shred? That would just be disastrous, given the circumstances.”

---

 - Grigori and Shred approach Area 1.
 - However, they are lost as fuck. Unable to find the main group (we are going to get jump scared by freddy fazbear)