"y'know, i might have to take you up on that." she looks down at the miltank, who's still staring longingly after lou's disappearing form. willow pats the cow on her head and breaks off a bit of the crumble on top of the pie. the miltank munches gratefully and plops down on the dirt. her ears still droop, but that'll change with time. 

"she lives right down the road. we'll take you to visit," willow promises. and even though the miltank probably can't understand her words exactly, she brightens at the sentiment. 

willow laughs. "greyson, i think we'll be needing to worry about supply instead of demand."

Greyson Connors

☉

working the greenhouse has kept her fit. but she still feels a little self-conscious as she stands after clearing the plates. feels exposed. because her legs and her arms and her face are all slim, but there's that pouch on her stomach she hasn't been able to lose since roman. and she doesn't know why she's thinking about it now, with the sweater over her and high-waisted jeans, but she's thinking about what people do on dates nowadays and gods, it's been a long damn time since - 

she clears her throat to derail her own train of thought, covers it up as a cough of sorts by taking a sip of water. she reaches over above the sink and turns on her dad's old cassette player. 

"you'll have to bear with me. dad always did the dishes to his music. feels weird if i don't." she grins sideways at him, unashamed. 

"do you dance at all?"

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

when she comes back down with the plates in hand and a bottle of water under her arms, the last thing she expects to see is lou. the woman and her wife had recently lost a son to the takeover at sootopolis. willow had sent flowers and a few meals their way. 

"oh, why here she is now. thank you, young man."

"i see you've met greyson," willow says and stands on her toes to give the woman a kiss on her cheek. "we're building pops' vespiquen boxes together."

"oh, is that right? i remember when he first started sketching those plans. we all thought he was crazy, emily especially. i sure hope it works out for you." her eyes are kind as she regards greyson with a nod of her head. 

willow looks at the miltank. "what you got there, lou?"

"well," the woman says, sighing. "a little 'fore asher left, he took this gal in and honey, we just have our hands so full right now. she's not getting the care she deserves. we heard you startin' to fill up your stable and emily thought you'd be her best bet and all."

i can imagine it gets tiring...

"of course, lou. i'm not too busy. she'll be right at home with cowslip and buckwheat." 

the thankfulness shines on lou's face. the lead for the miltank and her pokeball are handed to willow and then the woman's shuffling back down the road. willow sighs and looks down at the cow. 

"know anyone who's looking for a job?" she says with a laugh, only slightly joking. 

Greyson Connors

☉

her mother had a bad morning. she's been doing well these past few months. it's a steady decline, the doctors said, but being at home would help keep her grounded. and usually she's sweet as pie when she's confused. very rarely does adelaide need her help managing, but this morning was different.

so she's in a sour mood and she's trying to keep it together while she's running late for the flower shop, but it just so happens she'd also dropped the ball and had completely forgotten to set aside some arrangements for a party her neighbor is throwing today. 

so she works furiously with stems now, fighting back tears, as some out-of-towners try to arrange delivery for candle nights parties that are coming up.

she doesn't remember ophelia, or writing back to her. not in this moment. she just stares blankly at the girl. and then she pieces it together, grabs a pair of gloves, and shoves them in her direction. 

"i need the blue mini roses with the roses and pink lilies. six bouquets. accent with a bit of baby's-breath. tie the vases with burlap like you see over there." she waves in the general direction of the bouquets on display.

"when you're finished with that, you'll work on some wreaths for miss. grace."

Ophelia Reyes

☉

it's all fun and games, she tells herself, but she can't shut out roman's words, as much as she wants to. as much as she wants this to be a normal family gathering. as much as she wants everything to go perfectly, to see a snapshot of what life could have been like for the two of them. as much as she wants to know if seeing lance is a mistake.

you liar!

the weedle's poison barb managed to draw blood and willow sighs. she takes a swig and then sets her cider down, stepping away from bo so she can stand over the tussling boys. 

"i'm declaring roman the winner," she says dryly. "for going into battle with such a noble cause." you liar! "and because those ciders are delicious and i don't want to share."

she offers a smile to bo and then moves away from the boys. thankfully, adelaide had disappeared downstairs to willow's stores behind the flower shop counter. she returns with a poultice that'll stop the swelling from roman's weedle. 

"come on, cian. before your face blows up like a balloon."

boruta maher  CIAN MAHER  Roman Maher

☉

"probably is," she says as she dusts off her rear end. "but the other pokemon just spook 'em more and they won't stay in their pokeballs. they're a handful, that's for sure." a handful she'd welcomed in with open arms after her hands were suddenly empty from roman's disappearance. next time she'll just get another cat. 

she smiles when she hears his mutterings and catches herself staring just a bit too long after opening the door for him. so she shakes her head, rubs her arms to warm them back up, and then points bo to an empty planter box on the far wall of the greenhouse.

"i should have some extra blankets around here somewhere," she says. most of them are tarps, natural insulation for plant pokemon that don't care much for down cotton or wooloo wool. she finds one tucked under a cabinet near her tool rack. it's dusty with disuse and she coughs as she shakes it out.

boruta maher

☉

with most of the components in place, this is going by a lot faster than she'd thought. granted, having a psychic-type alongside lus helping is certainly speeding things along. 

when greyson grants autumn a rest, willow does the same for the heracross. she admires their work, grabs the rag from her back pocket, and wipes her hands from stray dust and wood. then she offers it to greyson. 

"sounds great. hold down the fort for me." 

she's only gone for about five minutes. she grabs forks and plates of pie and a couple of bottles of water. and it's during this time, when she's up in the house, that a dear friend of her wanders in the back with a miltank in tow. 

the elderly woman spots greyson and says, "young man, have you seen miss atkins around?"

Greyson Connors

☉

elisabet scoops the ball for her so willow can check on thistle's wounds. the bulbasaur is unscathed. willow praises her, thumbing the spot above her brow that she so loves. thistle's lids droop and she hums contentedly, swaying while elisabet checks the perimeter. 

the leavanny comes across a peculiar little pokemon. it attempts to put her to sleep, but she slashes at it, interrupting its attack with her powerful bug-like arms. it cringes as willow stands abruptly to the sound of scraping metal. 

it totters in the air and then its metal body digs into the cold earth. willow shoots elisabet a look and throws her last safari ball. 

SAFARI WARDEN

☉

she gives him a look when he drops a curse, but doesn't comment on it. she's never had a firm hand, really, and instead of scolding him, she thinks, should i just get us a swear jar? 

while roman's busy getting his boots on, she tucks her shirt back into her jeans and buttons on her flannel. it's a bit nippy outside, but really she just wants to make sure her clothes are secure. she'd been serious when she said dealing with the tauros are no joke. the bruise is partly because her unzipped jacket had gotten caught on part of the fence. 

he stands straight while she drops to the ground and gives the laces of his an experimental tug. they hold fast and she smiles with something close to pride. she stands, ruffles his hair, and then taps his back to lead him out the door. 

the tauros graze at some of the weeds poking through the cold dirt of their pen. they raise their heads as willow and roman approach. cowslip snorts and steam from the wintry air curls from his nostrils. willow's dreading the day when it gets cold enough she'll have to cinch blankets on them.

"alright," she says. "cowslip's the meaner of the two. he still hasn't let me touch him yet. buckwheat's getting better, but the two of 'em like to rile each other up." she reaches to grab the pitchfork leaning against the stable while she talks. 

"do you wanna distract 'em or bring the hay into the pen?" 

Roman Maher

☉