June’s stomach growled. Rumbled. Complained. Begged. Pleased. Desi–

She was fucking starving, alright? And, y’know, she was in the area anyway. This was a berry farm, and berries were plenty edible. Even good for you. Or, at least, not bad for you. Matchstick had been more than willing to take her there and watched her with careful interest. Sometimes, the girl ate some stupid shit.

But no one else needed to know that. She’d just take one, maybe two. They could write it off as wild Pokémon. It’d be fine, right? Her client wouldn’t know the difference. The farmer wouldn’t know either. So long as no one else was here.

“Huh?”

Her teeth sunk into the berry just as Clover screamed. A thick glob of white webs smacked against her shoes, and she tried to pull herself away. She wasn’t nearly fast enough, and her feet worked worthlessly at the string.

Just as her body did its best to give June as many chemical, physical, and mechanical signs that this fruit would literally kill her. Unripen Occa flew from her mouth, alongside a few healthy-sized spitballs. Her mouth felt the poison the second it made contact, and it wouldn’t rest until it was all gone.

“Holy shit,” she let the fruit fall and desperately ran her fingers along her gums. Incomplete seeds coated the pink flesh yet were impossible to remove completely. “What the fuck is wrong with this thing? And who are you?”

She eyed the berry tree. Despite what just happened, her stomach begged for anything at all. “Thanks for the heads up... but I think it was just rotten.”

June reached for another fire-orange berry, oblivious to whatever face of disbelief Clover made.

---

clover matamata

June pulled her hand back at the slap, and rubbed it stubbornly as they explained the actual problem with the berries. Not ripe? That made… a lot more sense than it being rotten, honestly. Rotten berries tended to fall off the thing instead of still hanging there. Maybe her stomach was doing the acting for her.

That’s why it begged for her to eat the already described poisonous berries. She had to physically restrain herself before she attempted again. Matchstick eyed her very dangerously, too. That helped a lot more than her own impulse control.

“Please, yes, I’m starving,” she begged the… teen? Young adult? Person. “Literally anything. I’m begging you– I’ll eat dirt if you tell me its safe.”

Matchstick, meanwhile, finally lost her own self control. Her head lowered until she was eye-level with the curious insect. Yet she did not give the creature pecks. Carefully, with dangerous precision, her beak tore into the remnants of the web. Even as some stuck in her feathers, June was soon freed.

“Why don’t they have a sign or something? Seems pretty stupid to let people just grab whatever berries they want– I could’ve died!”

Wait, hold on a second. Did this mean she could sue for a shit load of money?

---

clover matamata

“Fwalca-fwa?”

By the time Clover asked, June had already shoved a handful of the pickled roots into her mouth. Their juices leaked out all over her shoes and the front of her black sweatshirt, yet she seemed oblivious to the mess. Matchstick wasn’t, and shoved her beak into her trainer’s chest to point it out.

June quickly chewed and gulped, then swiped away both the bird and the dribbles of root juice, “No, not at all, just a delivery girl. I’m here to grab some berries for someone. I think. And that’s Matchstick. She’s… well, she’s a carnivore. So maybe don’t bring your Oricorios out. Please.”

She couldn’t afford a lawsuit. That’d make her eat the Occa berries legitimately.

“But anyway,” she gulped down another root whole, “you should probably tell them to put up a sign or something. People might sue.”

“Screee.”

“Come on, I would never sue someone who gives me free food,” she said. June stopped suddenly, then sighed. “That’s a lie, you’re right Matchstick. I absolutely would– but not this time.”

Matchstick unfurled a wing and smacked June.

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clover matamata