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There was tall grass, and there was tall grass. Beau had gotten the call to meet his partner at the Weather Institute, because despite the utter chaos of the Prismatic Penitentiary, there were still reported sightings of toxic-chained pokemon appearing around the region. Even though that little thing - what was it, Pecharunt? - that seemed to have originated all of the poisonous implements was nowhere near Hoenn at this point, the effects of its influence were harder to shake, apparently.
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Orson practiced kata stances next to him; in the intervening months, the little Kubfu had gone from being awkward and tentative to blossoming under Torben (and Beau's) tutelage, eyes set with a hard confidence as he moved from form to form. It hadn't been an easy few months, at least, but Beau could still be proud of how far the little guy had come.
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The tall grass overgrowing the path to the south rustled, and Beau perked up - surely this was his partner arriving on the scene for some toxic-chain-hunting. A low 'groaar' greeted him, and a Tropius burst forth from the undergrowth, leafy wings spread as it barreled toward Beau. Oh, nope, that wasn't anyone happy to see him.
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Orson leapt into action before Beau could react, his paw glowing with the energy of a FIRE PUNCH that almost knocked the Tropius over on its tail. Smoldering, the grass-type whipped around and vanished into the grass almost as quickly as it came. "Whoa, nice moves, brah!" Beau enthused, bending to give the Kubfu a high-five. High-paw?
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He was focusing too much on the intricacies of the mysteries of the universe, and idly rocked back on his heels instead, waiting for his partner.

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