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Doodles was on the lookout for such trickery -- as the Noivern dove for her and Anahel drew a gun, the Altaria screeched and spread its wings wide, a silvery sheen flashing its fluff as she was reinforced by Cotton Guard. Though the Noivern tore into her backside, the Doodles’ wings would catch the bullet meant for the back of Moss’ head. The bullet sparked against the now steel-like cotton and ricocheted into the darkness. She’d bat at the enemy with her wings, but wouldn’t budge, not wanting to give Anahel a clean shot at her trainer.

[break][break]Moss would have spun around, shocked that he was being shot at -- and even more surprised that it was the girl who held the smoking pistol. Doodles had to take a shot for him, and that royally pissed him off. He ripped a pokeball from his pocket and slammed it against the floor. “Get that gun for me!” Lofi the Rotom burst from the ball with a grin and wasted no time using Trick. Anahel would find the gun removed from her grasp and find its place hovering in front of Moss and the Rotom. The former would snatch it angrily from the air. “You’re crazy, lady!”

[break][break]Alarmed by the sound of the gunshot and the screech of Doodles and Moss’ voice, Weezer would begin slamming into the back of the door with a renewed vigor. Visible dents began to appear in the truck’s doors. It wouldn’t be long now before he broke out. Moss looked at the gun and looked at Anahel and didn’t know what to do with it so he turned and dropped it and soccer-kicked it into the darkness where it eventually hit the ground and fired a round from the impact. Moss flinched but returned his attention to the problem at hand.

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With Goomy’s noise maker being tooted happily in greeting, Weezer responded in kind. His tails spun happily like a propeller and he lifted his head and squirted a little puff of water into the air. The Buizel would sit there and hang out with the Goomy for a bit unless otherwise ushered away.

[break][break]Moss himself was helping himself to whatever appetizers he could get his hands on. “I guess we are,” Moss said through a mouthful of crackers, “a funny li’l reunion, sure!” And something clicked in Moss’ head. If it was a party, shouldn’t he invite all of his friends? He started rummaging through his pockets for his pokeballs as Riley entered.

[break][break]”Oh, howdy!” He grinned, pulling out a couple of pokeballs and sorting through them. He took Bastard’s ball and gingerly returned it to his pocket. The others he held outstretched. “Alright, gang! Behave! It’s Goomy’s birthday!” There was a flash of light and Moss’ entire team (with the exception of his delinquent Pangoro) burst into existence.

[break][break]Doodles the Altaria settled its fluffy self beside Goomy and Weezer, cooing happily in its sing-song voice. Tort the Grotle stood beside Moss before shuffling away, looking for a nice corner to settle down in. Lofi the Rotom made a sound like snickering and vanished into the walls of the bar. Maybe he shouldn’t have released that one.

[break][break]”Yeah! Shots!” Moss cheered, delighting in the festivities. But he’d also never drank alcohol in his life.

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“That so?” Moss seemed genuinely curious. He had no idea that Pangoro were supposed to be hard to train -- it brought him some comfort, actually, that he wasn’t the only one going through such blatant abuse. Maybe he was even doing better than he thought. But when Noah suggested just that, he deflated. “Nah, I’m hardly doin’ anything,” he said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, “he just likes hoggin’ all the fights.” [break][break]

Moss was briefly distracted by the breeze. He glanced at the sunset. The sky was pretty this evening. [break][break]

“Buy one of what,” Moss mumbled, squinting at the little metal doodle the man pulled out. It looked like a pin, or a magnet, or a badge of some sort… a badge? “Oh? Oh. Oh!” It all clicked, and Moss finally recognized the man for who he was. Almost. [break][break]

“You must be one of them trainer sorts! That’s cool. I ain’t ever really battled much, so I hardly get the appeal.” Moss scratched his chin. “Especially not in runnin’ one of them gyms. Why would you wanna be trapped in some stuffy office all day watchin’ kids fight each other? Seems like a… I don’t know…” He searched for the word that best described it.[break][break]

“Like a Melvin sorta job.”

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The driver hopped out and it wasn’t a stinky, fat old man but a petite woman. Moss squinted. Didn’t she seem sort of familiar…? [break][break]

Moss shook it off. It didn’t matter right now, anyway. All that mattered was getting Weezer out of the truck. She seemed sincere enough and as she hesitated the frustration on Moss’ face grew. Cutting edge of technology? “Tsk! I don’t give a hoot or a holler ‘bout no stinkin’ computers or cellphones or whatever it is you’re tryin’ to hide.” [break][break]

And he spun around with his back to the truck anyway. “But fine! Just hurry up and get ‘im out so we can get goin’.” [Break][break]

Although Moss was trusting (or just dumb) enough to turn his back so easily, Doodles wasn’t Moss. The Altaria kept a close watch on Anahel, standing protectively beside her trainer. The fluffy bird even puffed out her chest to appear more intimidating -- though more than likely to no such effect.

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“Oh.” Moss’ immediate disappointment was evident. No peanuts? What kind of a show didn’t pass out peanuts? The girl rummaged through her bag and then passed him a candy bar. Moss accepted it and flipped it over to look at it. He smiled. “Ain’t tried one of these before! Thank you!” [break][break]

As he started working on the candy bar (he couldn’t get the wrapper open) he watched the gathering crowds and then responded to her question. “Nah, yeah, I ain’t never been to a show of any sort, I don’t think. I just thought it’d be fun for Weezer. You’re kind of a mermaid yourself, ain’t you?” And he looked to Weezer who hopped energetically in the seat and let loose a little spray of water from his mouth in excitement. [break][break]

“What about you?” Moss asked, returning his attention to the girl. It was about that time that he'd finally managed to split the candy bar's wrapper. He started peeling the plastic back but wouldn't take a bite until after she replied.

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Then were days of laughing by campfires and playing in the lakes and streams. [break][break]

Moss stepped out of the forest and alone and emerged to a field of color and light and song. A cool breeze swept through the grassy plateau and Moss looked to his left and his right and there were his pokémon, his trusted companions, and he knew then the depths to which his care for them extended. [break][break]

As they walked together through a kaleidoscope of wilderness lush and beautiful, there was not a human soul in sight. But did that matter? The only friends he had ever needed -- have ever truly wanted -- were right beside him. And they were right beside him always. His travels were never lonely. [break][break]

His dreams progressed and became splintered, fractured, a blurred series of misadventures. They helped each other. Sometimes they fought or disagreed. But their bond endured. Moss doubted that anything would be able to break it. And throughout it all there was a knowledge that stuck with him. A crucial understanding. Like something missing had been restored. And he laughed, and his heart was full. [break][break]

Moss woke up and when he did he found that his pokémon slept piled around him. And he smiled, and settled back down into that pile of bodies and snoring fur, and fell back asleep almost instantly, with thoughts of love and happiness and family on his mind.

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Moss always remembered the night his Pancham evolved and now he dreamt it vividly.

[break][break]It was night, and he, Buizel, Grotle, and Pancham had just made camp in the Hoennian wilderness. This was at a time that Moss was still new to the region, and in his inexperience he had made a grave mistake. In hindsight it should have been common sense; a pack laden with food would attract a swarm of hungry Mightyena.

[break][break]They tried their best to fight them off. There were too many. They were overwhelmed, trapped in a riptide of gnashing teeth and claws. And Moss lost hope. Young as he was, he wondered grimly if it wouldn’t be better to just give up his neck and let it be over. They had been attracted by the promise of food and invigorated by the thrill of the hunt. There would be no stopping them -- certainly not now, during this bloodlusted frenzy. Shadows of beasts danced in the light of the campfire like hellish messengers of a world below.

[break][break]In that moment of abject despair, of selfish acceptance, as he let his muscles relax in morbid welcoming, there sounded the defiant roar of a beast enraged.

[break][break]The Pangoro towered over them. He sent the rabid dogs flying with just a swing of his mighty arms. The tides had turned in an instant. They organized quickly, descending upon him in unison and harrying him as they would their common prey, but to little effect. He had become the predator.

[break][break]The crunch of bone and yelps of wounded canines filled his ears. And as Moss’ vision faded, his consciousness slipping, the cold and the warmth and the fear and the pride enveloping him like a blanket, he knew that, at least in that moment, that his Pangoro was the strongest creature in the whole world.

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Moss just happened to be passing by.

[break][break]As he passed by a bar in the Lower District, he noticed out of the corner of his eye something familiar. Weezer watched him curiously as Moss backpedaled, and pressed his face up against the glass of the bar's window. It was Sierra! The news lady! And it looked like she was... throwing a birthday party? Moss' face immediately lit up. "Look, Weezer," he laughed, "I wonder if they've got cake!" He scooped the Buizel under his arm like a book or a briefcase and pushed through the doors of the bar and shouted, "Happy Birthday, Goomy-!!"

[break][break]The patrons of the dingy bar probably weren't too thrilled about such a loud entrance, but Moss was none the wiser. "Oh, man," he grinned, heading to the table, "I didn't know it was your birthday, Goomy! How're you feelin' on your big day?" He set Weezer on the table and set about putting a party hat on him. Weezer hopped excitedly. He continued to talk to the Goomy as he put one on his own head, resting atop the straw hat. It was a bit of a stretch. "I don't think we met before. I'm Moss. And this here is Weezer."

[break][break]Moss sat at the table and helped himself to a little cheese, crackers, and fruit. "Hi, Sierra," he said. "You mention Riley is comin'? It's like a li'l reunion, ain't it?" Meanwhile, Weezer would hesitantly wander over to Goomy and sniff around, as if trying to gauge Goomy's disposition through smell alone.

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Follow them outside the city? Why didn't they just pull over now? Moss mulled it over but couldn't come to any specific conclusion. He shook it off. In the end it didn't matter, right? So long as he could get Weezer out of there, he'd do anything. "Fine! Whatever! Let's go, Doodles!" The Altaria picked up speed, soaring over the city, and kept a watchful eye on the truck alongside Moss.

[break][break]In the truck, Weezer was still slamming away. Periodically, the truck would bump and rattle and Weezer would feel less and less energized. His pace slowed, and he would not be able to break out of the doors before the truck slowed to a stop outside of city limits. The Buizel was still determined to escape -- the inside of the back of the truck, it seemed, was not as interesting as the Pokemon had initially found it.

[break][break]After some time trailing the truck from above, they'd stop at the designated meeting place. Moss would land and hop off Doodles' back but still stand beside her. The fluffy bird did its best to look tough, and didn't take its eyes off the suspicious Noivern. Moss crossed his arms and glared, fully prepared to give whatever fat, smelly truck driver hopped out of the driver's seat an earful about paying attention.

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He was a kid again, and he was running through the woods. It was night, and it was storming. He was drenched. His face was wet with tears and rain and snot, and his clothes clung to his skin. He was tired and cold. As he ran, flashes of lightning sparked between the canopies of imperceptibly tall trees, with branches that could carry the heavens themselves.

[break][break]He slid to a muddy stop in front of a makeshift lean-to, made shoddily from twigs and fallen leaves. His face wrinkled up as he cried, and bent over to lift the pokemon from underneath. “I’th okay,” he choked, “i’th me.”

[break][break]He lifted the little Buizel and hugged him close to his chest for safety. For comfort. “We have to run away, Buizel,” he sniffled, “mommy and daddy are gonna be so mad.” The child wandered aimlessly from the makeshift shelter and looked around. The spontaneous roar of thunder made him flinch and hug the Buizel tighter.

[break][break]He made up his mind. He lifted the Buizel up to his face with a newfound determination. “Okay,” he said, “we’re gonna run away, okay? We need code names. You can be Weezer. And I’ll be Moss.”

[break][break]No sooner had Moss finished his sentence did a streak of lightning illuminate the night sky. There was a thunderous crash, and then the roar of rushing water. The trees creaked and groaned. A black wave surged downhill. Moss squeezed Weezer protectively and ran, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough. The water engulfed them both, and as the wave met the river they were set adrift, and ushered into a gentle oblivion.

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Moss squinted as he looked down at the island. It was a veritable battlefield if he'd ever seen one-- which he hadn't. He was floating lazily above on the back of Doodles. The Altaria looked like a fluffy cloud, and Moss could only hope that he wasn't spotted or shot down by somebody on either side of the conflict. He'd gotten caught in the crossfire in the middle of his wanderings, and somehow roped into assisting the League. Something he wasn't normally keen on doing, but... 

[break][break]"They said they'd pay us if we got 'em any useful information." He pat Doodles' neck, and she chirped lovingly in that sweet sing-song voice of hers. Moss sat back and scratched his chin as Doodles circled the island lazily. "But I ain't really seein' anything useful."

[break][break]Moss considered his options for a moment, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Alright. Let's give it one last look around then, 'kay?" Doodles cooed and took a dive, picking up speed. They cut across the open sky, watching carefully the struggle occuring below. 

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