It was a pallid, hideous-looking thing that contrasted sharply from the rich natural beauty of the flower field. Herschel, his green Applin companion, had stumbled upon it during his enlivened rolling through the field. Perpetually wide eyes somehow looked even wider as he cautiously encircled the creature in small hops. It wasn't until Remiel finally finished his approach and took a crouch beside it that the Applin stopped, observing quietly with great curiosity.
As far as the Galarian could tell, the bug-like creature had simply fallen out of the sky. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, though he did acknowledge the possibility of it being a badly scarred, burnt or deformed Beedrill. Keeping a safe distance from its stinger, the black-haired royal cautiously leaned in to try and rouse it awake with a poke of its leathery wing. It squirmed a little, still breathing, but apparently only hardly so.
With a sigh, Remiel stood up and straightened in posture, looking from left to right in search of
Isra Nightingale . She had come along to spend the day with him in the flower fields, but they had unexpectedly parted ways after the prince had been forced to chase after his Applin. Where she could be now, he wasn't sure. He wished to know her thoughts on the matter, but it appeared he would have to proceed without them.
The science of medicine and healing was never something the young man had committed to study himself personally. He understood the importance of it, of course. He had even taken a few classes to understand and practice standard emergency procedures, with or without a first-aid kit.
But two factors in this encounter changed what otherwise would have been an effort to prescribe these studies to the creature:
For one, he lacked important comprehension of its anatomy, or the anatomy of
any insecta for that matter. If he'd been carrying a pokémon with the ability to heal through magical means, this would have been the obvious course otherwise. But he was not. And they were so far from civilization that leaving in order to go fetch one was a half a day's journey. Time he sincerely doubted it had.
Secondly, Remiel wasn't one to interfere in the natural order of things without good reason. Sometimes the natural order needed to be coaxed or shoved out of the way for the personal goals and needs of man, but not here. The only incentive he truly had to save this strange creature from mother nature's inevitable embrace was for testing and research. But that brought him back to the harsh terms of the first aforementioned factor. All he really needed for his desired research was a sample of it anyway. He could take one after it let go.
Having decided to remain until it finally departed from this life, the least Remiel could do was make it comfortable and encourage a smooth transition. So he sauntered over to a nearby tree, upon which a Combee's nest had been struck and torn apart. The claw marks and footprints told the story of a particularly naughty Ursaring. Perhaps it had swatted more than just the Combee's nest from the tree. He turned over his shoulder to look at the strange creature once more, and Herschel presiding over it. Then, he bent down to grab a piece of the beehive and crack it open.
After gathering the cardboard-like piece of lightly honey-slathered hive, Remiel stood up again and walked back to the fallen arthropod. Herschel rolled back into the flower field as his trainer crouched down beside it once more. Carefully, he placed the piece of beehive right next to the orifice he imagined was its mouth. If he could provide the mysterious insect with one last taste of the sweet honey he hypothesized it dined on, then that would be good, he thought. He stood back up after doing so, knowing sustenance would not be enough to produce a scenario where it fully healed.
Watching and waiting to see whether it partook of the honey, the black-haired royal eventually snapped out of his thoughts when the green Applin returned. It came rolling out from the flower field before coming to a perfectly timed stop. Before its eyes could reemerge from said apple, however, it tossed out a few flowers from the top of its hole instead. The eyes only reemerged after Remiel had bent down to scoop the flowers up, arranging them together in a neat little bundle he tied with root.
This seemed like something
Isra Nightingale would do. Though he wondered whether Herschel thought it would save the creature from death, or whether it was truly just a sentimental gesture.
Regardless, Remiel placed the flowers just a foot above the strange insect's head. Then he stepped back, sighed once more, and crossed his arms. He hated giving eulogies. It reminded him of his father's grand and overly dramatic funeral. But something deep inside nagged at him to say something—
anything— before he made his next order. Clearing his throat, he looked down into the creature's many eyes and took a deep breath.
"'All go unto one place. all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again...'"There was a pause afterwards; deep thought. Then a short stifled snicker at himself, accompanied by a shake of his head.
"Herschel, Leech Seed."And the Applin understood exactly what it was meant to do, showering the creature's body with a gentle rain of seeds that would soon aid its return into the earth and soil below it. What the two of them failed to realize was that they would soon be rejoined by the lovely
Isra Nightingale.
If she came soon enough and willed it, she could prompt her darling Herschel to cancel his efforts with a single word. Or not.
THIS POKEMON IS NOT AS COMMUNICATIVE as others. instead, it toys with each visitor, playing with smoke and mirrors as a dead, ailing victim to be pitied. although its original appearance may exude a benevolence or innocence— this pokemon is cruel. playing tricks on others for its own amusement, this guardian deity is not only a healer, but a vile, selfish prankster.[break][break][break][break]
[break]
