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

Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still. In the forest, only the nearest tree branches show their full color; more distant trees and branches are colorless and indistinct in the pallid grey fog, looking ghostly and not quite real. While at the coast, the sea is sluggish and grey as fog lays on its surface like a thick wet blanket.

Aurora has arrived.

Though it lacks the secure comfort of a walk on a shiny, sunny day, a walk in the midst of a fog has its own special enchantment. There's something about marching into grey, not being able to see five feet in front of you, with the impending thought that *something* could be out there and your senses would be too stifled by the humidity to do anything about it. No matter how imperfect this weather may be, however, sometimes stressed-out parents would do anything to get out of the house, even if it involves stumbling over rocks vieled in the grey and pausing to shake fur free of the hot water collecting on the tips. That's precisely the mindset of two particular Growlithes out this afternoon, and despite how often the male has had to hunt in this weather, he looks decisively lost. He slows down to a stop after a while, but not to shake himself dry - this is to peer around confusedly. <... Aurora?> he asks eventually, perhaps interrupting his mate (her thoughts or her speech, either one). <... Uh... do you remember which way the barn is?> Peppy's not exactly a navigational know-it-all.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Surprisingly, Aurora has willingly come out with her mate into this foggy, damp and generally rather depressing weather. She doesn't look too happy about the water settling in her fur, and stops fairly frequently to shake her fur dry, but evidently the alternative - spending another day in the barn with the pups playing noisily - was even worse than the prospect of getting rather damp outside. She and Peppy have made it far enough from the barn for the large building to have been swallowed up in the grey mist, and her eyes are already showing hints of worry. Peppy's question doesn't lend Aurora much confidence, either. <I think... um...> She stops, and peers around, the worry in her eyes and voice becoming evident. <Was it this way?> she says hesitantly, pointing a paw in the direction of a large expanse of grey, with a tree or two between the Growlithes and the thick fog. <Or, er...> Turning her head, and then her body, she points in the opposite direction. <Maybe it was that way. I don't know...> Her voice cracks a little as she speaks, and she shakes her head vigorously, even though only a few droplets of water fly off as she does so.

A question Aurora doesn't know the answer to? Those tend to be pretty rare, and Peppy can't help but shift his weight to the other side, a nervous fidgit complete with a wagging of the tail. <Well,> Peppy starts to say, an idea coming into his head. <Oh! I know what we can do! The path we're on will either lead us *to* the barn or *away* from the barn, so if we walk in one direction or the other, w...e...> A little grass rustles at Peppy's paws, and, almost fearfully, the dog peers down at the ground below him. Grass. Almost a little frantically, he peers around for any sight of the path, whether it be the stamped path of the pokemon of the area or the human's road, but the fog obscures his vision too much - all he sees is grass, flowers, and a bush or two. Great. It's okay, Peppy tells him, it's okay. Aurora always finds a way out of any sticky situation, and with a hopeful look in his eyes, Peppy turns his head to the mate, waiting for the solution that he knows will come!

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Aurora's ears prick up hopefully when Peppy comes up with a solution, but she only takes a second or two longer than him to notice the flaw in the plan, and her ears droop back down, nearly flat against her scalp as she watches the grass dejectedly. Even Peppy's enthusiastic confidence in her ability to think them out of almost any situation doesn't cheer her up here - for one thing, she's too busy staring at the grass, almost as if she's willing it to turn into the path. And for another... this wet and foggy weather, with no visible path and perhaps no way back to shelter, is entirely too close to a certain incident several years ago for Aurora's liking. She doesn't speak for a while, and when she does, it's quiet, in a tone that carries more than a hint of despair. <I don't know what we can do,> she whispers. <If we chose a direction and ran that way, do you think we'd reach shelter? And if we did, would we reach it before we got too cold and hungry to carry on?> She shakes her head vigorously again, water droplets flying loose, and turns her head to look glumly at Peppy. <I don't know where we are, or if we can get back to the barn.>

Poor Peppy. He's peering at her with such blind, optimistic hope, tail wagging back and forth, entirely oblivious to the painful memories forming in his mate's head. His cheer doesn't settle down even for a few minutes, during which he plunks down on the grass and peers around the fog, waiting for Aurora to speak. And when she does, boy, he snaps right into attention, ears pricked, eyes widening in interest. And then she admits she doesn't know what to do. Well... that's a little disheartening. His ears droop a little as he pulls back into a more erect stance, realizing he's going to have to do a little thinking of his own. Train wreck in the making. <Well... if we run, um, we might go too far away, or because it's hard to see we might run into something or...> Audible swallow. <Someone.> Katerwauls live for days like this, he just knows it. <I -think-...> And he pauses for a second, turning his head to the side, jutting his nose in that direction. <... It's in that direction. But even if not... we'd be okay. I'd sooner carry you on my back than let something like that happen to you.> Oddly, Peppy doesn't speak with a particularly heroic or brave voice; he speaks like he means nothing of it, as though if he's hardly thinking about what he's saying. He keeps on talking. <All we need to find is the human's path, or the path that leads to the human's path... I think from there we could find our way. Easily, I think.>

The fog is grey-white in the light of mid-day.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Even though most of what's going through Aurora's mind at the moment is a mixture of "mustn't panic mustn't panic mustn't panic..." and "We're going to die...", she is at least paying enough attention to Peppy for his words, and their meaning to register. And surprisingly, his normal and not particularly heroic tone of voice makes Aurora smile a little - if he's confident enough in their safety that he doesn't need to try to cheer her up by sounding happy, then they'll get out of this alive. Or something. The female Growlithe frowns a little as her brain (still on "mustn't panic mustn't panic") tries to process this, and then grins a little more widely as it sinks in. <Where... where shall we head, then?> she asks, her voice quivering but sounding a little more confident and less despairing than before. <Shall we turn left and see if we cross a path?>

Poor Aurora. She, unlike Peppy, is aware that this situation could very well prove to be a dangerous one. The only thing Peppy's worried about is that they'll be home a little late for dinner tonight. Dumb dog. Anyway, the slight picking up of Aurora's spirit invokes a grin on Peppy's face, as well, and with a little bit of effort, he picks his mud-caked rump up off the ground, shaking himself and sending dirty water flying in every direction. <It's as good a place as any,> Peppy woofs with a nod, taking a step towards Aurora, pausing, taking another step, pausing, as though wondering which of the two Growlithes should go first. If Aurora hasn't taken by the lead by now, Peppy will rather timidly step out further into the fog, green eyes dashing left and right for a sign of anything - a path, a landmark, maybe even a Rattata so that getting hungry won't be a problem. (Always thinking about his stomach, Peppy is.)

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Well, since she was the one who suggested they head left, Aurora takes the lead in the left-heading, moving with careful but confident steps in the direction she suggested. As she walks, her actions are similar to those of her mate - look from side to side for anything to point the way, or anything to indicate that there may be trouble, and head forward slowly so that nothing is missed. She looks down towards her paws frequently, too, to check whether she might have reached the path yet. Not all of her previous fear and worry is gone, as can be seen by the tension in her back and neck muscles as she walks, but at least she and Peppy are moving. And that's an improvement - standing still in this fog would probably be much worse, what with the things that might be lurking out there. Aurora hasn't had the experiences with Katerwauls that Peppy has, but from what he's told her there's every chance that they could run into one. <Do you see anything you remember was near the path?> she calls quietly to Peppy, trying to make her voice carry only as far as her mate and not attract any unwanted attention.

Aurora is only entertaining the thought that a Katerwaul might be out there; Peppy is more or less certain (as he always is) that a Katerwaul *is* out there and is only waiting for the perfect moment to strike - a moment Peppy won't give it. He looks left, right, behind, even up and down (you never know). Unfortunately, he fails to look straight ahead of him, and it's not very long before a little rock in the path gets in Peppy's way. As his paw descends upon it, it wobbles about underneath it before finally rolling out from under him, and with a yip of surprise, Peppy goes tumbling to the ground. Smush. The thought that the Katerwaul will now use *this exact moment* to strike (of course!) immediately zaps through Peppy's mind, and he quickly yanks his nose out of the mud, hopping back up to all fours, panting uncontrollably. Poor Peppy is soaked with mud, from his muzzle, across his chest and belly and all the way down to his paws. <Where is it?> he mutters to himself, failing (with due reason, sort of) to reply to Aurora's question. <I know it's out there...>

Unaware of her mate's state of mind, Aurora is starting to cheer up, and comments in an excited, though quiet, voice, <I think that tree may be near the path! What do you think, Peppy?> When no reply comes immediately, she turns her head and repeats, <Peppy?> Of course, by this time Peppy has taken his nosedive into the mud, and Aurora frowns in a concerned manner as she stops walking, and waits for Peppy to catch up the metre or so there is between them. <What's wrong, Peppy?> she asks, ears cocked in curiosity.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

A moment passes. No Katerwaul. Another moment. No Katerwaul. Unable to contain himself, Peppy barks loudly into the mist, gripping the mud with his paws, snarling, growling, then barking again. But still no Katerwaul reveals itself. Peppy keeps up this act for ten seconds or so, before finally feeling secure. The ghost has fled. Turning around and marching proudly in Aurora's general direction, Peppy keeps peering left and right, just in case. Aurora fades back into view soon enough, and Peppy really treats it like nothing's wrong... like all that angry barking was unimportant, or like it's perfectly normal for a fully grown Growlithe to be covered in mud from head to toe. <Nothing's wrong... not anymore!> he beams, oh so proud of himself.

Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still.

Puzzled, Aurora shakes her head a little, and then Peppy's wide smile makes her smile as well. <Well, if it's okay now, that's good,> she says warmly, and once her mate's fully visible through the fog she turns back the way she was heading, and starts to walk slowly in the direction they were heading. She's already taken several steps before an idea strikes her, and she stops, looking down at the ground, then over at the tree she noticed before, and finally back at Peppy. <Um, Peppy?> she asks, before indicating the tree with one paw. <I think I've seen that tree before. Do you think it's one of the trees near the path to the farm?>

Peppy doesn't find it odd that Aurora hasn't commented on his mud-splattered body, if only because he doesn't realize that he's muddy at all. <We won't be bothered again,> he assures her with a cheerful woof, tail wagging enthusiastically, sending mud splattering all over the place. Yech. He marches forward to resume a position at her side, though only because he, too, recognizes the tree even before she mentions it. <You know...> he woofs, almost in confusion. <That tree does look kind of familiar.> He doesn't speak as though it's anything special, unlike Aurora, who probably has a little more hope that the two aren't going to spend their last days lost in the fog.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Aurora nods absently as Peppy agrees with her, still trying to figure out exactly why that tree is so familiar. <It's not the leaves, or the bit at the top...> she muses, eyes on the tree as she changes direction almost without thinking and walks towards it. As she gets closer, her eyes narrow in recognition, and suddenly she breaks into a grin. <Peppy, I know what this tree is!> she calls happily, silence and stealth not being such an issue now that Peppy has run the Katerwauls off, if there were any to start with. <Do you remember that time we came out here and had a race?> She points to the tree, and then to a large root that protrudes from the ground a short distance from the base of the trunk. <This is where I tripped up and rolled over, remember? Look, that's the same root!> She trots up to the root, and then turns away from it to stare into the distance through the fog. <If we run back there, we should get back to the barn!>

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Peppy doesn't think much of it; no doubt it's just a trace of the scent marked on it by some wandering pokemon, or a tree that he's seen so many times that it's just become lodged into his subconscious or something. When Aurora suddenly realizes something that Peppy misses, the male cocks his head slightly, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at her. <What..?> Plop, plop, plop. Peppy's paws squish even louder than Aurora's as they approach the root, understanding more and more by the second. <Hey... Aurora, you're right!> Peppy exclaims, nodding enthusiastically. Ha! He knew her intelligence would get them out of this pickle in the end! <You... ... hmmm...> His admiration falls short, and he peers at the trunk of the tree, as though there's something interesting about it. He's silent for a few moments. What's wrong with him?

Aurora's quite proud of her deduction, even if it does make her wince a little at the memory of what happened after tripping over the root she's examining at the moment. She looks up from the root towards where the barn should be, and nods slightly to herself, then says, <I'm almost certain it's that way.> She turns, pointing a paw at a larger root of the tree that's visibly part of the trunk, and says, <See, that's where I rolled against once I tripped over the root, and... Peppy, what's wrong?> Her mate's odd investigation of the tree catches her attention, and she takes a few steps closer to him, peering over at what he's looking at. <What is it?>

Peppy's voice is soft and slow now, and his eyes remain locked on the tree. Bit by bit his mouth spread into a smile... rather, a devious grin. <Aurora?> he asks, not looking at her. <Remember how we came up to this tree? We were on a walk... and it was sunny, and you challenged me to a race. You said the last person to this tree was a... a, uh, Caterpie.> And for the first time, he looks over at her. His grin widens even further, and without any more warning, he suddenly springs off of his back paws, launching himself at the tree, and unless Aurora quickly caught on, she may be too slow to make it there before he can.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

<I do, yes- wait!> Aurora's not too quick to catch on, most of the time, and now is not an exception. She does realise what Peppy has said, and follows him towards the tree - jumping the root quite expertly this time - but is too slow to possibly catch up with Peppy before he touches the trunk, and her forepaws touch the base of the trunk shortly after he gets there. Giving a mock-indignant snort, she says, <Well, I think I'm the Caterpie now.> A smile crosses her face, and she adds, <And to prove it, I'll do a... um... Tackle attack!> Giving Peppy a second or two in which to prepare himself for the impact, she lunges for him, attempting to run into him and make him roll over - not in a full-powered Tackle attack, which would definitely hurt, but in one designed more as play-fighting than anything else.

Oh yeah! Peppy wins! Peppy's devious, toothy grin only grows even more mischievous when Aurora arrives a moment too late, and he beams at her playfully. Her comment arriving at the tree causes that smile to become wiped right off of the dog's face, and Peppy doesn't even bother moving in the moment or two that Aurora gives him before she charges at him in a kind of mock-Tackle attack. "Rrrowli!?" is all Peppy can make out before Aurora throws herself into him, bowling him right over. At first it was only his neck, chest, and belly that were dirty, but now after he does a turn or two in the mud, his entire body becomes just soaked in mud. When the pup finally comes to a stop on his stomach, he peers up into the fog, blinking for a second, before quickly trying to get back up to all fours... but then, you never know if Aurora may, whether through malicious intent or simply because her tackle has knocked her off balance, ram into him again!

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Aurora, too, has managed to pick up several splashes of mud on her coat - well, she's just been tumbling around on the muddy ground, and it's hard not to get splashed with mud in this weather. Still, she's mostly clean compared to Peppy, and skips back a few steps to let him get back to his feet before she says with a grin, <Do you admit defeat at the paws... er...> She glances down at her forepaws, frowning, then grins and continues, <...I mean, the suckers of this mighty Caterpie?> She waits for him to give a reply, sinking down into a crouch as she does so - and if his reply is in the affirmative, she'll relax from her crouch. If not, it's another attempted mock-tackle for the poor, victorious Growlithe.

Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still.

After a mighty tackle like that? His ears pressed against his scalp, his tail wagging briskly, Peppy gets halfway up, grinning slyly at his mate. Mud is splattered all over his face, especially over his right eye, which remains shut. <All right, all right!> he woofs pleadingly, his voice just a little overdramatic for fun's sake. <You may be stronger than me, Mrs. Caterpie, but at least I know I'm faster! Last one home is... it's, um, is even more of a Caterpie!> Before he even starts, Peppy mentally scolds himself on how unabashedly lame that was. And with those words, Peppy kicks off of the muddy ground, partially slipping as he does, and maintains a just-out-of-reach distance from his mate as the two race back home.