[attr="class","spiral"]When Ms. Halesberry first asked Birdie to check in on her rancher pal in Petalburg City Birdie was flattered, but the idea of going back out into the boonies when she was just getting re-acquainted with more exciting sights felt . . . bad. Still, the boost to her pride was enough to get her on a boat (well, a couple boats) out to the quiet southwest of Hoenn.

She expected that once her task was done she'd be more than ready to head up to Rustboro and start hitting up proper cities again, but in reality? It's kind of nice out here! When the next rancher told her he had a friend in Oldale that might need an extra pair of hands she found herself surprisingly excited to make the trip; and that excitement hasn't faded by the time she enters the town proper. If anything it grows!

How couldn't it? The little town is so cute!

When she makes her way to the ranch it's with a spring in her step (and a Cufant practically cuddling her heels). This bright mood dims a little bit when the old rancher she meets seems in a bit of a mood, and dims even more when she learns it almost has more to do with her partner for the day than the Wooloo he's worried for. Something about 'kids these days' and 'being too impatient to let an old man finish a thought'.

"Uh, sorry to hear it," she apologizes bashfully and is met with a dismissal wave of a hand, a grumbled 'not exactly your fault, is it?'. Then he points her in the direction of the break in the fence, where Birdie can already see someone looking around. Okay! Her last two partners were a little prickly, but friendly in the end. Surely this one will be too!

"Hey! Any leads?" she shouts the question as she crosses the field, waving a friendly hand above her head in greeting. The distance between them is a foot or so wider than she'd like even as she calls out to the other girl. Dozer sticking so tight to her ankles makes speedy movement a bit of a challenge.

[attr="class","spiral"]It takes a bit of time, but Birdie manages to get the fire properly roaring. The smell of burning wood fills the air as the blaze's warmth spreads. Lazily, Birdie dips into her bag to pull out a bag of snacks and some sausage. She munches on the former while skewering a few of the latter with an iron poker.

"At least I've got these," she murmurs between mouthfuls of salty chips and cheesy popcorn. For a few minutes she stays like that, soaking in the silence and munching on her food. Ever so slowly the smell of firewood is joined by the scent of cooking meat and the artificially flavored dust that coats her fingertips.

It draws a visitor around the time she dips into her bag for bread to wrap the sausages in. Birdie catches sight of a Marill watching from the other side of the fire as she pulls the poker from it. One of a handful of pokemon she can recognize at a glance -- they make for both trendy pets and strong battlers.

"Uh, hey buddy," she says, watching it bounce eagerly in place -- eyes locked onto the "meal" she's preparing for herself. It's not hard to get the picture. Especially as she looks at it for a few moments longer.

Marill are naturally kinda chubby, but this one is a bit exceptionally round.

"You like . . . want some food?" she asks, and it quickly begins to bounce towards her. Around the fire and then straight forward until it's within a couple feet of her, "Friendly! I take it I'm not the first person to offer?"

She gets only closed eyes and an open mouth in response. Definitely not the first person to offer.

Birdie splits a sausage with the Marill, eventually lets out her other three party members to eat as well. She marvels at the now four pokemon in her company as they interact. Drifter and Bubbie antagonize one another as Dozer looks on from his place pressed against her side. The Marill sneaks in and out of proximity of food -- always managing to come away with a crumb or bite of something.

Before bed Birdie calls it close and offers it a pokeball the same way she had Dozer.

"Wanna come with? I dunno if it'll be as good pickings as schmoozing with tourists, but I've always got snacks."

[attr="class","spiral"]The sight of the man's smile gives Birdie a bit more confidence in her freshly considered answer. She was pretty sure she was on the right track when she offered it, but the way the previously rough trainer softens at her words is reassuring.

She watches the man kneel down by her two partners and feels a familiar surge of anxiety; the moment of mixed fear and pre-emptive embarrassment that crops up whenever someone gets too close to Drifter. Thankfully, he's tired and allows himself to be pushed with little but an irritated caw and a snap at the air. Bubbie is moved without complaint -- blowing a few bubbles in his helmet as he's scooted along the concrete.

"Uh, okay, get to know them," she echoes his words and takes a hard look at her pokemon, ignoring the bit about "taking" her somewhere to avoid making things more confusing. Again she finds herself a bit ashamed at how easily she'd overlooked the now seemingly obvious lessons presented to her.

"Every trainer has their own thing, this is an equal partnership, take time . . ." she murmurs them under her breath, wishing desperately she had her notebook. No, this is a good opportunity, if she can just commit this to memory maybe it'll be easier when it's about her poke-- little dragon?

"Little dragon?" she repeats her thoughts out loud, shooting the man a confused look before attempting to quickly school her expression in time to answer his question, "Uh, yeah, I guess? I mean, I don't know if I'd say I, like, uh, even know battling? I saw some League matches on tv when I was a kid? When I started training pokemon it was kind of just . . . all I could think to do?"

Bashfulness begins creeping back into her voice word to word, sentence to sentence. Her last answer was kind of cool if she says so herself, but this one? It makes her worry she's gonna throw off the good mood of the conversation.

[attr="class","spiral"]"Man, this sucks," Birdie says before tossing a few more branches onto her slowly growing campfire, "Man, this really sucks."

She was kind of excited when Ms. Halesberry praised her for her work on the ranch (even if it felt a bit unfair to put her on par with her partner of the day), and was actually kind of elated to think she'd done so well the woman would recommend she go help a few other ranchers she knows; but after walking to Slateport and a boat ride to Dewford and then another boat ride to just outside Petalburg she can't help but start running low on excitement.

Especially when the boat gets to the route outside Petalburg too late for her to make the walk all the way there, and she winds up having to camp out in the middle of nowhere without all the proper supplies.

"I knew I should have stole a tent . . ." she whines, sitting down close to the fire with a few tied-together-sweaters wrapped around her shoulders.

[attr="class","spiral"]Bratty. Proud. Pompous. Yeah, Birdie can easily see all those words applying to Drifter. He's a little shit with a napoleon complex. She's got scars on her hands from times she got to a garbage bag before he could ransack it.

She thinks of those scars as the other girl offers Drifter feed from her palm. What if he hurts her? That'd be so embarrassing! Birdie is half prepared to tell her she's changed her mind when her Murkrow leaves his stolen berry on the ground to slowly, cautiously approach this new offering.

"Uh, Drifter, be nice!" she demands in a voice thin with worry. His gaze swivels to her for barely a moment before he takes the last hop to reach the girl's hand. He seems positively chuffed at the compliments she offers to reassure him -- giving a light trill sound much more pleasant than any others Birdie has heard him make.

With a surprising amount of care he pecks at the feed. Birdie watches him stare at her from the corner of his eyes, as if to say 'See? I can be nice when I want to'.

"Hmm," she grunts under her breath and does her best not to glare at him in response. Instead she forces herself to look at the girl so masterfully handling him. It's hard to look away once she does.

"Well, uh, thank you very much," She says, looking her in the eyes before thinking better of it and picking a cheek to stare at instead, "For the info and the feed, or whatever."

[attr="class","spiral"]Once they're out of sight of the latest tunnel terror Birdie does her best to catch her breath. She places a somewhat dizzy Bubbie on the ground before sinking to his level -- sliding down the cave wall in a dramatic fashion that pushes her sweater not-so-dramatically up to her ribs. She wants to lament the way that leaves her t-shirt to get dirtied by the cavern wall, but after dealing with back to back adrenaline spikes she finds she doesn't have the energy.

"Why isn't there, like, a warning on this tunnel?" she whines instead, "Like, I don't know, 'Beware! Full of big, angry pokemon dying to crush you,' -- or something!"

Bubbie blows a few bubbles in his helmet as Birdie grumbles a few more times. The inside of the dome glows gently as a few of the bubbles begin swirling around the inside like planets orbiting his head. AQUA RING first knits up the scrape on his forehead Birdie failed to notice before taking on a more passive role healing various aches and pains.

Meanwhile a gentle plodding of feet goes unnoticed. Another new pokemon enters the space, but this one with much less drama than its predecessors. It makes its way in relatively silently, creeps up on the pair, and only really pulls attention when it plops down next to Bubbie. Its metallic skin tings against the stony ground and it gives a small trumpet as if the movement caused it some kind of pain.

Birdie, naturally, jumps to her feet at the series of sounds. Conditioned by the tunnel to treat every bump and rattle as the sign of an approaching attacker. She's half ready to start shouting orders when she takes in the pokemon before her. It looks . . . tired. Maybe even dejected. It walked up to them without causing a commotion, and rather than fighting it collapsed next to Bubbie. Why?

"Hmmm," Birdie's voice anxiously drones as she slowly walks closer to the new arrival. It opens its eyes halfway to look at her, and she can't help sucking her teeth a bit at the image her closer look provides. Maybe they weren't the only things having a rough time in this cave; the little pokemon looked like it had seen better days. Its copper skin is scuffed and bleeding in places, one of its legs looks especially banged up. Maybe it came to them hoping their presence would make the area safe to rest in.

Unfortunately, Birdie knows firsthand there's not a lot they can do to provide safety.

"Uh, hey, little buddy?" she asks tentatively, it gives a low trumpet in response, "Yeah, uh, if you want to like, rest here? You can. But me and Bubbie here have got to keep moving. . . You look kinda beat up? So I was wondering would you, um, maybe want to come with us?"

She asks the question while very, very slowly pulling a pokeball from within her bag. She doesn't know if wild pokemon have some kind of sixth sense for the things and how they work, but either way she holds it out like an open hand to the pokemon -- button facing its trunk that hangs defensively in front of its face.

[attr="class","spiral"]It starts off a dull rattling that Birdie quickly filters from her ears. She and Bubbie push deeper into the cave paying it no mind, but while they do it grows. The dull rattling turns to raucous tumbling, and finally as Birdie turns to face the source it becomes like an approaching earthquake -- shaking the walls and sending dust raining down from above.

A boulder comes rolling through the cavern with more precision and purpose than simple stone ought to have. It doesn't bump into walls and it comes rushing towards them on a course that shifts as the pair try to move out of the way. There's only really one conclusion to draw, and Birdie hates that fact. Even her carefully chosen words have thrown more at them than they can handle.

"Uh, Bubbie, use, uh, she fumbles for an answer to the approaching threat, "Headbutt!" she only just manages to squeak out the order in time for Bubbie to move. The Dewpider lunges forward towards the approaching, sentient missile heading their way. HEADBUTT connects, but it's Bubbie who's sent flying. His liquid helmet ripples and warps flat against his face before he's thrown across the cavern.

Their attacker comes to a stop after that. Limbs and a head pop from within the boulder and it gives an irritated cry while rubbing a section of scuffed rock on its body. The gesture reminds her of when she stops to pull a bit of cobweb from her hair while bicycling in the woods. There's no real concern of damage in the moment, just a desire to check and fix a tickle that wasn't there a moment ago.

Bubbie struggles upright while the wild pokemon inspects itself and Birdie does her best not to panic. This pokemon isn't as large as the last, but it's still big, and if that first clash between it and Bubbie was any indication -- they're a bad match-up for it. Taking a moment to look it over she thinks it might be a bad match-up for Drifter, too.

She doesn't know much, but she knows how her bird matches up against other pokemon and this thing is literally a giant rock.

Only one thing to do then. While its trying to get a read on the situation they should . . . run! Birdie sprints in the direction of Bubbie, plucks him from the ground by a leg, and takes off down into a random cavern. It's not long after she makes the turn that the rumbling from earlier picks back up. Hopefully the thing won't know which way they went!

[attr="class","spiral"]The world responds to Birdie's assertion with a challenge. Not but a few seconds after her comment there's a thud, and then a scraping, and finally a sound like hail pinging off a car's hood. Something is moving slowly but purposefully through the tunnel, and that something makes itself known as it rounds a corner.

Birdie finds herself instinctually ducking out of sight as the almost tank-like pokemon makes itself seen. It is almost as big as her, making it easily several times larger than either of her pokemon.

It's not her first time seeing a large wild pokemon but it's her first time with so few options to avoid it. Usually she simply skirts around them on an open route or makes tracks to the nearest town, but the cave is large and the tunnels thin and it's not easy to imagine escape from this thing without catching its attention.

And if they get its attention? She can feel Bubbie shiver against her leg. He doesn't seem fit to bolt, but she gets the feeling that has less to do with his belief in himself and more to do with the wild instincts still present in his behavior. Even a mild bug has to be ready to fight when cornered.

Thankfully, the pokemon didn't see them when they ran to hide and they go silent and undisturbed in the moments that follow. After scrounging around a bit the hulking quadruped turns and leaves. The sound of heavy footfalls and earth falling away in chunks grows slowly quieter . . .

"Okay, maybe I got ahead of myself on 'really strong'," she sighs, "Let's try aiming a little lower -- I bet you're no slouch!"

Those words feel less likely to breath very real dangers into existence.

[attr="class","spiral"]Birdie stepped off the boat from Dewford with a lot on her mind. The job she was here to do, the events of the last few days, and most of all the words of the trainer she'd met in Slateport. Even as she makes introductions with the friend of Halesberry she's here to help they echo in her mind. They aren't much, but they're real.

"You can demand respect, but that doesn't mean they'll give it," she murmurs to herself as she walks around the enclosed bit of ground, " . . . what a trainer needs is a true and virtuous heart." A quote from one of the pilfered books in her bag rises to meet the fresh one. They rhyme in a weird way. They both council patience. A desire to understand.

She lets out Drifter with this thought in her head.

She hops up onto a fence post and he lands on her shoulder as usual. Reflexively she puts up a hand between her face and his and, predictably, she catches a peck to the palm. He caws in frustration at her successful block.

"Listen! Dude! I get it," she says, and he cocks his head, "We've both been stubborn, right? You want to do your thing and I want to do mine and all we've been doing is, I don't know, pushing for one or the other? But how about we meet halfway."

She looks at him, sharply but not unkindly over her splayed hand.

"I mean, today how about we at least try to work together? You try to listen, I try not to push, we see how it goes?" her request is met with skeptical eyes, but he doesn't peck her hand again. So maybe?

"Okay, first request, wait peacefully with me for whoever's supposed to help us defend this place?" she delivers the words slowly and carefully. Drifter leans back on her shoulder and opts to stare at the sky. When she drops her hand he doesn't go for her throat. Progress.

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[attr="class","spiral"]"Okay! So, Drifter is in a bit of a mood today," Birdie's voice echoes off the walls as she rubs at a trio of fresh scratches on her right hand, "but that just means we get to try and work together, right?"

Bubbie, her Dewpider, looks up at her at that. He chitters a little bit and blows a bubble in response. A smile spreads across Birdie's face, he's so cute!

And it's such a nice change of pace; having a pokemon listen when she talks, and not try to bite her lips shut with his sharp fucking beak. She switches from rubbing her hand to absent-mindedly thumbing a scar above her top lip.

"I know you and Drifter don't get along, and we'll fix that eventually, but for now we can get some one-on-one time!" she continues, "You really gave us a run for our money back in Meteor Falls so I bet you're really strong. I can't wait to see what we can do together!"