Obvious exits:
South <S> leads to Pokemon Haven: Assisi Farm.
North <N> leads to Field and Streams - Route 11: Farmlands.

The sky is cloudless and brilliant blue. The northwest wind is icy, blowing snow across the landscape in swirling white gusts. In the forest, blowing snow drifts against the trunks of the trees, clinging to their windward sides. While at the coast, the sea sparkles brilliantly under the sun, the waves rolling crisply against the shore in a light froth of white.

The weather is cold, wet, gusty, and miserable, and it's the best it's been in weeks. No new snow falls from the sky, but the wind blows so fiercely that flakes are stripped from the ground, and they swirl around in the air randomly, catching on fur and ramming into eyes. "Grrrrrrrth!" barks one pokemon foolish enough to find himself out in this weather, his green eyes squeezed so tightly that they're almost closed, his head lowered to resist the wind and to help him with his hunting. It's not really helping much. Scent is hard to catch in wind like this, and there are so many other environmental factors to pay attention to that Peppy's small mind is incapable of concentrating solely upon sniffing. Still, he's been through worse, and that's what keeps his pace steady and his grin locked into a doggy smile... though maybe that's just because his jaw's frozen shut.

Clear blue skies betray their serene gaze, as the ways of the land seem to be far less forgiving to creatures who'd dare to venture into such harsh and trying conditions. Thankfully the sky doesn't make it any harder upon the people and the pokemon that walk the land by snowing; by then it'd be a fully capable snowstorm, though in an hour or so, that may be the case. And yet, there are still other souls out here, with their mind set on things other than hunting. What kind of reason does Navarone have anyway?; sitting on his haunches not too far from the side of the road; getting his fur tossed and swept by the swirling eddys of snow, nearly mist-like. He looks almost comfortable in this position.. at least, until he breaks down and starts to wrap his tails around himself as tightly as possible, vice-like even, and to chatter his teeth (they aren't frozen.. yet) loudly in order to gain some heat. It might not work to warm him up, but at least it lets others know that he's here- as if there were others.

Plop, plop, plop. Peppy leaves large prints in the white layer, a solid track where his leg pushed through the deep snow, occasional holes where his paws touched the grass. It's definitely not easy out walking today, but when you're feeding for six Growlithes on top of yourself, giving up and going home is not an option! ... Unless you start to get tired, as Peppy is. His tongue flops up and down as he treks onward, likely numb by now. Just when the Growlithe comes to a stop, letting his body sag so his belly touches the top of the snow, struggling to peer longingly in the farm's general direction - he catches a hint of something. Something warm, definitely a pokemon, but what kind? His ears prick, his tail perks. "Lithe?" he woofs quickly, blinks, and slinks through the blowing snow, far more alert, trying to catch another hint of his prey - and unaware that it's poor Navarone.

Shadows lengthen and the light turns golden as the sun sinks toward the west through a clear sky.

Will Santa's route be extra long this year? Better save! (Saving)

Peppy isn't the only one that's unaware. Under the howling of the chill northern gust and the staccato chattering of his teeth, it's hard to hear even Peppy's quick bark. Since the wind is blowing down the road, towards Peppy's general direction, Navarone doesn't have a single hint about the puppy pokemon's presence. Maybe it's this lack of contact that finally makes Nav look up from his frozen state. And his frozen brain and his equally wind beaten eye permit him to catch sight of the approaching Growlithe. Like said Growlithe however, he has no idea who it could be- but chances are, he can at least guess, from the orange-ish silhouette with black streaks, that it might be <Peppy? Is that you?>

The trail Peppy leaves is no longer shallow-deep-shallow-deep: now there are big holes in the otherwise untouched snow as the Growlithe galumps across the land, practically jumping his way to Navarone. Once he catches another whiff of the Vulpix's scent, however, he stops in mid leap, falls to the ground, and remains low to the ground. And so he crawls through the snow like a shark (except a really, really easy-to-see shark - big tufts on foreheads and excited, wagging tails are far more obvious than fins), sniffing here and there but otherwise staying quiet... until Navarone announces his name. "Growl?" Peppy lifts his head, glances left, glances right, stares through the snow... and settles his eyes upon Navarone. His heart sinks as he peers at the other fire type for a moment, and, quietly, perhaps not even audible to Navarone, he woofs, <... You're not a Rattata.>

Navarone jumps slightly at the Growlithes response, an action easier said than done, given his state is very much alike to that of an ice cube. He wasn't really expecting a shadow to suddenly bark at him, after all. And yet, Peppy's arrival has given him some comfort- even when Peppy droops at the fact that he's not a Rattata. As such, he smiles- weakly, but it's a smile, at least. <Well, what are you doing out her-> He's cut off by his own train of thought. He's hunting, you dolt! What would you do if you have a mate and five pups? He spins his head around. <Hunting? In this weather? I doubt you could catch anything out here.. I doubt there's even anything out here, besides us..> He turns back to Pep. <... Don't you think so?>

Peppy's sullen, longing look remains on his face for a few moments, his ears inch by inch drooping, his tail's wagging slowing to a gradual stop. Never one to pass down the opportunity for a conversation (especially since it means no more hunting! Sure, he's still out in the cold, and the wind's still blowing, and his family's still hungry, but still! No more hunting!), Peppy eventually approaches the other pokemon, struggling to keep his eyes open and his head up and failing at the snow smashes into his eyes. "Grrth," he mutters as he gets closer, and as he comes to a stop, he shakes himself fiercely, sending muddy melted snowflakes flying all over the place - unfortunately, towards the Vulpix as well. <Of course I'm hunting!> he woofs even before he finished, his voice somewhat irritated. Grumpy Growlithe! <I've went out hunting in worse weather before and still caught. Besides...> And he brightens up a little, his voice lifting a tad. <Aurora said she loved me this morning, so I want to get her something extra good!> Sheesh - five months a mate and he stills gets worked up over this. That's Peppy for ya.

Navarone sort of ducks when Peppy sends his wave of spray flying towards him. Short of yelling another insult in Peppy's general direction, he simply mutters something to himself, and shakes his head. Hey, cold makes anyone grumpy. Maybe it's this fact that helps him to realize that Peppy, generally a cheery if not simple Growlithe, just turned Scrooge-like. Ah well, every dog has it's day, or so they say. This just isn't one of them, however. The second sentence makes Nav sort of snort amusedly. If Peppy was just another stranger, he'd probably tag a sarcastic comment on the end as well. Maybe Pep's just nice to him in front of Aurora- Nav doubts he would have handed over the Rattata otherwise on that day. Is this how you treat your matchmaker, eh? <Something extra good ain't showing today, that's what I think- Maybe you should just stay home! I think whatever Rattata that live here are doing so as well!>, he comments, a bit of ice from around him seemingly laced into his words.

Peppy sort of growls as he turns his head to the side, facing away from the wind. <It's really cold,> he grumbles, as if the Vulpix really just can't figure that out for himself. His fur coat blows furiously in the wind, and the tuft on his forehead covers his right eye entirely. The pup digs into the snow to increase his resistance against the powerful gusts. <Ain't showing?> Peppy asks, struggling to look at the Vulpix out of the corner of his eyes. <What do you mean? Do you mean the Rattatas?> He pauses for a second, as if considering, then nods slowly. <They aren't, but I have to find one. Then I can go home, and... and...> He pauses for a second. Turns his entire head to Navarone, closing the eye on the wind's side. <... Why are you here?> It's not threatening, just curious.

Shivering vigourously, whatever snow that may have gathered on the Vulpix is now discarded appropriately back at Peppy, a sort of comic revenge for what he did earlier. In this kind of conditions however, it's not much of a difference. Nodding at Peppy's statement of the obvious, he looks around him again, almost longingly- it's as if he's seen this scene before, somewhere- a weird sense of deja vu if you may. He continues staring at his surroundings, the biting of the chill wind against his eye and his fur seemingly ignored- at least, until Peppy asks him why he's here. Blinking a bit (whether it's from the snow or out of suprise is uncertain), he turns back to Peppy, and opens his mouth to answer... but nothing falls out but the steam in his breath. Closing his jaws, he goes back to staring at the road, as if ignoring whatever query the Growlithe might have had for him earlier. A question unanswered! What will Peppy do?

The stars glitter like diamonds in the deep sapphire blue of the night sky.

Will Santa's route be extra long this year? Better save! (Saving)

Maybe Peppy doesn't expect a reply, or maybe he's already forgotten he asked a question, because the Growlithe takes no notice of the Vulpix's surprised silence. Sighing a little, the pup turns back to the side, resisting the wind once again. He shifts a little. <It's really, really cold,> he asserts once again, proving himself to be the master of pointing out the extremely obvious once again. <I wish the weather would be hot again, because it's not as cold around then, and the snow doesn't get in your eyes and it's really easy to hunt.> He nods once, twice, three times, each nod getting less and less pronounced until it trails off into nothing. Maybe having nothing but his own grumpy growling and the wind blowing in his ears to hear has had an affect on him, because the pup is talking even more than usual. <... Did you see any Rattatas around here? If I get a Rattata I can go home, and Aurora will be really happy! And I'll be happy, too. Because I'll get to go inside.> Though he does not look at Navarone, the dog grins widely, wagging his tail once or twice and shaking off some of the snow starting to build upon it.

The icy northwest wind howls, blowing snow about in savage gusts. The cold is intense. The sky is clear deep blue and the stars glitter, brilliant as diamonds.

Navarone just simply stands there, looking straight ahead, as if straining to see some sort of object or being in the swirling snow. Out here, in the wintry chill, anything can look real, in particular to a frozen fox. Peppy's sudden verbose nature simply makes Navarone droop even further; ears, tails, everything just starts to hang low, almost echoing the amount of confidence he has. When Peppy finishes his little speech of sorts, it takes Navarone several moments to turn to him. It takes almost all the strength he can muster to just perk his ears a bit and smile, albeit weakly. <That's good to hear.>, he half-whispers, barely audible above the noise caused by the drifting winds around them. Turning his attention back to the road, he gives off a deep heavy sigh. Silence is obeserved for a few moments, for Nav at least. <..... If you woke up one day, and found Aurora gone.. what would you do, Peppy?> A strange question, mysterious indeed; but there's an almost hesitant tone to it, as if Nav is hurt by the words he speaks. It's no doubt that Peppy might be hurt as well.

Well, this was something unexpected. A chill rips through the Growlithe's spine, and his head jerks up. It takes him half a second to recover before he whips his head in Navarone's direction, his jaw slack, his eyes wide. His bushy tail has also taken a jump, almost as erect as his ears. <What?!> The Growlithe sounds absolutely horrified - almost panicked... perhaps a little overexaggerated. <What do you mean? Where is she? Is she okay? She's not gone, is she? Is she okay? Did you do something to her?> Peppy's always been very good at misunderstanding things, but maybe this one you can't blame on him. He's tired, cold, and grumpy; the threat of his mate being gone is just too much for him to take. His eyes still large and locked on the Vulpix, the Growlithe pants heavily as he waits for Navarone's reply, his teeth clenched tightly.

If Peppy looks like he was about to turn Navarone into Aurora's lunch, he definitely doesn't notice it. His eye is about as blank as can be; a solid opal amongst maroon red fur. He sits there on his haunches, unmoved by Peppy's sudden burst of anxiety and horror. If Peppy has just been through what it's like to imagine your loved ones gone, Navarone never needed to imagine it in the first place. Maybe that's why his current nature is almost as cold as the snow around him. He might radiate a soft warmth, being a Vulpix- but the aura surrounding him is almost akin to that of a ghost's; cold. Bone chilling, spine joltingly cold. Ignored are the Growlithe's words. He simply continues his query. <Imagine that right now, you knew that Aurora was gone. Forever. What would you do?>, he repeats himself.

Navarone's words are no comfort to his Growlithe friend. He quickly shifts into a position more suitable to talking to the Vulpix, even if it means the wind blows right into his face. <If she was gone?> he cries to the zombie as his side, eyes still wide, looking left and right and left and right and left and right and forward to Navarone, all over the course of about a second and a half. <I-I-I-I don't know what I'd do!> he stammers. <I'd, um, I'd look and see if she wasn't around, and then I'd, um, I'd go out and look for her and if I didn't find her, I... I...> Pause. Left-right-left-right-left-right-forward. <I'd... look for her some more, and again and again until I found her!> This would be rather cute if it didn't have a terrified tint to it, a horror. As far as Peppy is concerned, Navarone's hypothetical situation is reality. Peppy's eyes are starting to well up, but he doesn't notice.

Navarone may seem almost undead, by most means, but it's for a reason; he can't let the pup see that this is the exact same trials he had to go through at one point. And yet, it's betrayed by the softening of his frown, and his narrowed eye seem to curve into a sad round saucer. A barely audible sigh, and a swish of the tails. The howling winds are suddenly a distant memory, compared to the horror he's watching Peppy go through. The cold is but an illusion. Only he and Peppy exist, as well as the questions he poses. Blinking a bit, he snaps back into his former pose; that of cruelty. But isn't the truth cruel at times? <... And if you couldn't?>, he asks, eyes rarely blinking, but when they do, a small tear falls loose. 'Not now' he tells himself. It's for the pup's own good.

Peppy notices the Vulpix's tear fall from his one eye, and it seems to be the only thing that can bring the pup's frenzied movements to a gradual stop. He still anxiously peers back and forth, but he's more in control now... and he looks downright exhausted. Leaning forward slightly, the pup gasps for breath, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, head tilted to the ground but eyes staring straight up at Navarone. He's no longer quite so aware of the snow, quite so aware of the cold - and it's not just because his body's heated up from his frantic movements. <I...> he woofs at last between pants, struggling to keep looking up at Navarone. It hurts. A lot. He wants to just drop into the snow, tuck his muzzle into his chest, and never dwell upon such horrible thoughts. Perhaps the only thing keeping him from slinking back into his usual thoughts is the fact that, if he suspects correctly, Navarone might be implying that just possibly maybe Aurora just might have perhaps already left. Swallowing hard, Peppy continues. <... I don't... know.> A chill ruptures his body. <... I don't know what I'd do without her.>

Will Santa's route be extra long this year? Better save! (Saving)

Watching Peppy droop like it was the end of the world can't help but elicit a sigh from the firefox. The wind isn't so strong, and the chill air doesn't seem so cold. Fact is, Nav feels colder than anything right now, at least, on the inside. And yet, he still keeps his chilly air. <You don't know.>, he simply says, repeating Peppy's words. <Is that the best you can do?> It's at this point that the Vulpix turns his head away from Peppy; breaking his gaze away from Peppy, a tear rolls freely down his eye, wetting the fur underneath, freezing it together. <Have you ever thought about the pups?>, he suddenly asks. It's as if he wants to remind him about something.

The icy northwest wind howls, blowing snow about in savage gusts. The cold is intense. The sky is clear deep blue and the stars glitter, brilliant as diamonds.

Peppy is very, very torn right now. Does he want to be defensive? Does he still want to stay horrified? Is he more curious than anything else? Or depressed? Confused? Disappointed? Watching Navarone as he turns his head, Peppy slowly - very slowly, almost cautiously - sits down in the snow, not caring about how it makes his rear feel cold and how much the wind wants to simply knock him over. <I...> He swallows loudly, closing his eyes as he speaks. <... She... wouldn't do that to me. I know she wouldn't.> He lapses into a moment of silence, and when his open up once again, they are watery and wide, and a few tears drip freely from each one. Too quietly for the Vulpix to hear, he whimpers, <... She can't.> The comment about the puppies does not go unnoticed, but Peppy's only response is to look at the Vulpix sullenly, wide-eyed and helpless.

Turning back to Peppy, it's quite obvious to see the reaction on Navarone's face. But maybe it's not even a reaction at all, maybe it's his own words that are making him cry, tears rolling freely now, but not a single choke or sob comes. It's easy to see how sad he is, all the same. The biting cold comes back to him, seeping between the strands of his fur and biting into the flesh underneath. <She.. wouldn't?>, he half-asks, half repeats. <...Wouldn't she?> It's doubtful he's making much sense, but he's gone way off the edge.. or maybe he hasn't. Blinking his eyes shut, he tries to squeeze the last bit of tears he can, before he opens them again. They are still watery, but a little bit of that old face; the almost tauntingly cruel frown and general look of disdain, returns as well. <What if, she had no choice in the matter? What if someone made her leave?>, he asks again, pushing towards his one goal; the one point that he intends to prove.

Peppy opens his mouth, inhales... and closes it. Opens, inhales, closes. He does this two or three more times before actual sound comes out, and even then, it's not much: a simple <I>. His tears come more freely now, and they dribble down his muzzle and fall from his chin, only freezing once they leave the warmth of his skin and the protection of his fur, which blows wildly in the wind and goes unnoticed by the striped dog. Through some sort of miracle, after constant swallowing, breathing, and shivering, Peppy eventually pulls up the nerve to speak. <... I... I'd...> And he turns away from the wind, sighs desperately, declines his head, and closes his eyes. <I'd have to watch the puppies. I would never leave them, never, not even for Aurora. But once they were old enough, I would go and I would find her, an-and even if it took a hundred years, I w-wouldn't... ev... ev...er... stop.> Whether or not that's the point Navarone is trying to make, Peppy seems unable to say much more. He's stick his muzzle into his chest, and he whimpers freely and loudly now, tears leaking from his eyes. Usually he'd be humiliated by how pathetic his crying is and how he should stop, but being a tough guy is the last thing on Peppy's mind now.

Will Santa's route be extra long this year? Better save! (Saving)

A pause. The disdainful and unappreciative look on Navarone's face simply fades into that of suprise. The tears stop flowing momentarily.. and then they start again. But they are a different kind of tear, 'happy' tears one might call them.. For Nav, they are tears of relief. Despite all of his simpleton ways and his naivete, Peppy still has the one instinct that even Nav has- to continue what their loved ones did. And there they are, both of them, crying in the snow and the sleet. The frown neutralizes.. and fades into a soft grin. <That's..... what I wanted to hear.> He gets off his haunches, and moves over to Peppy, and positions himself as such so that he takes the brunt of the cold gusts and Peppy is somewhat shielded. Looking over the sobbing Growlithe, he immediately reverts from his earlier stony gaze to that of a more caring, empathic look. <There, there..>, he speaks softly calmly, like a bird warbles to her chicks. <You did good. You did good. At least you know where your priorities lie now. That's all that matters.> A pause. Guilt pours itself on, as Navarone dips his head. <I'm sorry if I made you cry, but I just wanted to see if what I've done- getting you two together.. was right.> His head suddenly jerks upwards, and on his face is a smile, wider than before. <I.. guess I am.>

Even as Navarone stops, Peppy continues his melancholy attitude, struggling to keep from making too much noise as he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes that it'll stop the tears from coming, opening them back up when it doesn't work, then closing them once again with the same intentions. Navarone's voice is more light-hearted, his words far less harsh, darn close to... joyful. Through blurry eyes, the Growlithe can only stare at the other fire type as he speaks. <She... isn't..?> he croaks. If he notices that Navarone is guarding him from the wind, he doesn't show it. Turning his head to the side, he exhales softly, closes his eyes yet again, feels the tears no longer rushing so quickly. They stick to his fur and quickly chill. <... That... really made me sad,> he murmurs, his entire body sagged, almost crumpled, as though if Navarone moves out of the way of the wind, the Growlithe will go tumbling off into the snow like a paper doll.

Short of nuzzling the Growlithe, Navarone does the best he can to ensure that Peppy comes out of this situation pretty much the same, if not, a stronger version of himself. The pups short query is answered by the swaying of his head. <No, no, silly, she isn't leaving. She's still back at the farm...> A pause, for the pondering of the right choice of words. <Waiting for you. Because, believe it or not, she loves you just as much as you love her. I know. I've talked to her.> His further comment makes him nod almost sagely, and he smiles an unsure smile. <I'm sorry if it did. But sometimes things happen Peppy.. and it's not always what we want. The best we can do is keep hoping for it, and maybe make up for what we did wrong in the past.> Is he talking to himself now, or.. In any case, he shakes his head, letting loose a tear welling up in his remaining eye. <But you still have Aurora, and just as importantly, the pups. You've got to look after them, the best you can.> He moves in a little closer, and lifts the sad Growlithe's head by putting his muzzle under his chin and slowly pushing it up. <You have no reason to be sad, Pep. No reason at all.>

His eyes remain locked to the ground, his stare cold and hard, his mouth remains tight. The only movement comes from his fur, which occasionally sways despite the smaller pokemon's shielding. It makes him look lively - a contrast to what he feels deep inside. He sighs softly after the Vulpix says "<... I've talked to her...>", but doesn't look up at Navarone until he's finished speaking, mostly because the other fire type's muzzle directs him. His eyes are still wet, his vision is still blurry, but they no longer have that sad, terrified look in them. Maybe Peppy is going to walk out of this stronger. <... She...> His voice is a whisper, merely a wisp thrown into the wind and blown far away. <... She does... love me?> It's not so much of a question as it is fueled from the desire to hear it, to know it, to remember it. The faint hint of a smile perks up the corners of Peppy's mouth as he looks down at Navarone, still muzzle-to-chin. <I know it.> The chill of night sinks in, and the wind blows white specks of snow by at a blinding speed.

Pulling his muzzle away from Peppy's, he smiles as well, a broad grin that acknowledges what Navarone has done; it's for the better, for Peppy and Aurora's future. Peppy's words ring clear as crystal inside the firefox's head.. and he can't help but agree. <Not just you, Pep. I know it too, but most importantly, Aurora knows it. And though they might not realize it, so do the pups.> Pointing his head briefly towards the direction of the barn, he continues. <It's getting dark, and it's snowing way too hard. Let's go back, Pep; maybe there's still food left over, or something. It's a bit late to go hunting now, anyways.> Despite his suggestion, the Vulpix doesn't move; not until he gets a confirmation from the larger fire-type.

Peppy's head drops a bit when Navarone pulls his muzzle away, and despite the Vulpix's inspiring words, the Growlithe still can't help but give off a longing exhale. He's not quite so sad anymore, however; he cries no longer, though he's not smiling, his expression has definitely improved. Rare are the times when Peppy actually has something in those green eyes of him that isn't a simple blank, vapid look, but now is one of those times. <... I don't...> And the dog gives a little half smile, an almost shy grin. <... I don't think she'll mind.> It takes him two or three tries because his legs are so stiff from the cold snow he's been sitting in, but the Growlithe does eventually succeed in ascending to all four paws, and should Navarone continue to not move, Peppy will pause, sniff the air, close his eyes for a second, and take a few steps in the general direction of home. He's never been the best at finding places, and the snow blowing doesn't help, but chances are he's going to have a somewhat easier time finding his way home tonight.

With the pup's final words, Nav simply nods. He simply whispers to himself, <No, she wouldn't. Not at all.> He actually moves in the help Peppy get up, but by the time he walks over, the pup has already done so. He's definitely stronger than he looks, Nav thinks to himself. Watching the pup turn and head for home, even if it's just a few steps, worries him slightly; he himself is quite shaken by what he has done, so it's easy to imagine what it might be doing to Peppy. He sighs in relief as he watches the pup walking normally; though a slight falter or two in his step, he manages to go on. While the pup doesn't know it, Navarone has all this while been reliving a memory; a memory that a year ago, changed his life forever. It was his first encounter with Spook. Going through his own trials and tribulations, today, he at least steered Peppy away from where he had strayed once, that cost him many painful memories. The danger has longed passed, but it never stays that way for long. But if it shows, Nav will be there. Looking towards the sky, he extends his gratitude, to someone that has shared her spirit with him and has caused him to become the Vulpix he is now. <Thank you.> Of which, there is a barely audible answer, so soft that only Navarone can hear it. A ghostly whisper in his ears. "Thank you too." Looking back towards the road, he races towards where Peppy is, now several metres away. And all this, thanks to the spirit that Spook had passed on to him, a legend in Nav's eyes, a legacy he must continue. The spirit of love.