Obvious exits:
East <E> leads to Commerce Road - Route 7: Cache Creek.
Southwest <SW> leads to Commerce Road - Route 7: Trader Way.

Ping arrives from Commerce Road - Route 7: Cache Creek.
Ping has arrived.

Day five. It's cold. It's wet. It's gloomy. It's murky. But it's not snowing. And that makes all the difference in the world to one small pup, paws at work, busy tearing their way into the snowy ground. What's he trying to do? Prepare for the blizzard? It's a possibility. "Grrrr! Grrr!" growls Peppy under his breath, muttering about snow, about cold, and about not having burgers. He doesn't seem to have made much progress with his hole, unfortunately. Maybe that's why he's grumbling so much.

It's grey and icky, that's for sure. You'd think it'd be dampening *every* Pokemon's spirits. Well, one Pokemon doesn't seem any less cheerfull. The Pokemon in question is wearing a bowl for a hat. She's singing lightly, but the notes can barely be heard, especially above grumbling. She's coming from the North--from the wilderness and wild. She'll have to either cross or turn to follow the highway soon, though. If dogs had sweat glands, Peppy would be drowning. It's hard work to dig, especially when there's cold snow on the ground and all the mud has hardened. The Growlithe can only thank his lucky stars that he wasn't born a Sandshrew. <That's it!> the canine howls at last, frontal paws swiping at the ground one last time before he simply collapses on his side in an almost comical motion, his chin hitting the snow with a soft thud. He's cold, he's wet, he's hungry, he's tired, he's sore, he's hungry, he's lonely, and, worst of all, he's hungry. "Lithe," he mutters under his breath, tongue sticking out of his mouth, breaths quick and often.

The singing stops. "Fairy?" asks the singer, pushing her hat up so she can see through the snow more clearly. She heard something... loud. Moving amongst the tall trees lining the highway, she slowly approaches, her wings fluttering weakly. Her eyes narrow as she makes out the form... does she know that type of Pokemon? "Fairy clefairy?" <Was that him?> she asks, under her breath.

Peppy is panting much, much too hard to hear the Clefairy, and his eyes, glaring miserably at the ground like it bit him or something. <Now what?> he asks himself softly admist huffs and puffs. Unfortunately (and expectedly), the ground remains silent. The puppy hesitates a moment further, before growling, malice present in his voice, <Some help you are.> Not for the first time this week, Peppy goes over his options. This means using his head. As one may expect, it doesn't exactly go well.

The soft light dims at dusk.

Ping blinkblinks, her ears twitching. At first, she thinks he's talking to her. After he tells the ground that it's some help, she seems to still be unsure if he's talking to her or not. One tiny hand on the trunk of a tree nearest to Peppy, even if it's a little far away, she stares at him for a moment before saying, "Clefairy fairy?!" <Who're you talkin' to?> Some greeting... but she doesn't seem convinced talking to this Pokemon is the safest thing she's done, either.

Boing! Peppy's fur spikes up on end and he leaps up from the ground, breathing rate intensifying even further. "Grrooowlithe!" he yelps in fear, spinning right around with wide eyes. <Wha... uh...> The canine blinks. His erect tail falls limp, as do his ears. His fur remains puffy, however, and he still seems to be panting for breath. The dog blinks again, looking over to the Clefairy. Awkward moment number one of the evening. <Just... myself,> Peppy admits, glancing sheepishly to the side.

Ping stumbles back, falling into the snow as Peppy growls at her. But his awkward admission makes her giggle, there, in the snow. "Cle.." she says between giggles, but can't seem to get the entire thing out. Finally, she does. "Clefairy fairy fay!" <I thought you were talking to me. And I didn't know what now!> she explains, getting up and putting her bowl back on her head.

The fur on Peppy's face helps to disguise the fact that he's blushing fiercely beneath it. He's supposed to be tough! A wild Pokemon capable of surviving through a terrible winter! And here he is, getting heart attacks from little Clefairies. Bleh. <Sorry about that,> the dog apologizes, taking a few steps toward the Clefairy. <I'm...> Peppy hesitates here, thinking of the right thing to say. How to phrase it? <... Sort of new at this.> Not bad.

Ping rubs the back of her head. "Clefairy fairy? Fairy clef?" <Sort of new at talking to yourself?> she asks, as if it was a perfectly acceptable thing to be new at. <Well, I guess you're a late starter, but that's okay. You get better with practice!> she giggles. <I suggest singing, myself,> she adds, finally seeming to straighten herself out from the simulateous scare and laugh.

Peppy stops dead in his tracks. Both right paws a step ahead of their counterparts, the dog blinks, and cocks his head curiosly, trying in vain to puzzle out what Ping's advice actually means. <Singing... will...> The puppy glances to the side. And shrugs it off. He begins walking once more. <That's... fine, bu - oof!> Assuming there's a translation for "oof!". Peppy was obviously not watching where he was going, because he just stepped right into the hole he was digging. His balance thrown way off, the dog tumbles to the ground, half of his body out of the small hole, half of it in. <... ow.>

Ping meeps and rushes over to Peppy to help him. "Clefairy fairy," <Watch out, it looks like someone dug a hole there,> she says as she tries to help him back to all fours. She seems quite aware that Peppy himself was the one who dug the hole. She also seems to not be scared of the odd dog in the least any more.

Peppy doesn't seem to find it strange that the little Clefairy isn't cowering in pure fear at the (by comparison) big puppy. He welcomes Ping's help in getting back up, though by his swerving head and wavering body, it's kind of easy to tell that he's just a little dizzy. <Thanks,> he woofs to the Clefairy... though he's not looking at her. Right next to her. Maybe he's seeing doubles. <It was...> The dog blinks, shakes his head, and focuses this time on Ping. Oh, good, there's only one of her now. <It was my hole,> he admits at last. He's still swaying back and forth slowly.

A featureless blanket of grey cloud covers the evening sky.

Ping smiles and bobs over so Peppy is looking at her. "Clefairy fay?" <Are you new at digging holes, too?> she queries with curiosity. Her eyes are brighter than the evening sky, and she seems very, very excited to meet someone who isn't trying to make her lunch. She then blinkblinks, as if remembering to mention something. "Clefairy fairy. Fay." <I'm a Clefairy. My name's Ping.>

The dog's eyes lift very, very slightly, but his reply is nothing special. <I'm Peppy.> He pauses for a moment. <A Growlithe.> Another hesitation. Peppy rears his head around, though the rest of his body doesn't move. He glances back at the hole he tripped in, his right ear flickers. <Do you think that'll last through the winter? I'm freezing.> And hungry, and tired, and lonely, but he doesn't mention it. <And I think something's coming,> he mutters as a last comment, directing his attention toward Ping, wondering if she understands what he means.

Ping peers at Peppy, nodding slowly. "Clefairy." <It is cold,> she agrees. <Er... yeah... the hole'll last, I guess,> she says lightly. <What are you gonna hide in it? Are you gonna remember to dig it up when the warm time comes again?> Ping obviously doesn't realize this hole is meant for Peppy. But when Peppy says something is coming, Ping tilts her head and her ears flick up. "Clefairy.. fairy fay.." <I dunno.. I don't hear anything. Unless you're talking about what the woods've been whispering about..> she says quietly.

The side of Peppy's mouth twists into a something curious form, and the puppy takes a couple of steps back. He just barely manages to not slip into that hole again. Choosing to ignore anything said about the hole, the Growlithe decides to tackle another aspect of Ping's little whisper. <You can't... smell it, I guess.> A pause. <... I think we're thinking of the same thing, though.> It's not very often that Peppy is solemn or serious, but this is one of those rare occasions. Despite the fact that only a little bit ago, the klutz stumbled into a hole he had been building all day.

Ping blinks and takes a smell. It smells... like Growlithe. "Fairy clefairy.." <I smell you..> she says, unaware you can smell a storm approaching. In fact, she's not very sensitive to the weather at all. She is still young, and she also lived in a cave most of her still-short-yet life. "Fairy clefairy fairy." <But I've heard songs of readiness and worry, and overheard Pokemon talk about the cold, the ice, and the white stuff,> she explains lightly and with a shrug.

The whiffs of the upcoming event are very evident to Peppy. It comes as a surprise to the puppy that Ping has absolutely no idea what he's arfing about. <It... doesn't really smell like food or anything. Are you sure you can't smell it?> the dog asks uncertainly, as if he really can't drill the fact into his mind that the Clefairy can't sense it with her nose. Brief pause. Partial topic change. <What are you going to do?> What the puppy wants to ask is something along the lines of, 'Are you going to your trainer? If so, can he or she feed me?'

The night is moonless and starless.

Ping nods when Peppy asks if she can't smell 'it,' but when he asks what she's going to do, she pauses. "Clefairy fairy..." <I guess... well... I had an idea. The last time the white stuff fell, I found a place and met a friendly Bastet named Majesty.> She never did get that one straight. "Clefairy fairy." <I'm tryin' to find that place again, and maybe Majesty will know what to do.> She tilts her head. <But I dunno for certain.>

First, the Clefairy tells Peppy that she can't smell the brewing storm. Now, she tells him about something about "Bastet" and "Majesty" which overwhelms the poor puppy's tiny mind. His intelligent reply to Ping? <... What?> Sheesh mastery! Beautiful usage of imaginative, creative wording to thoughtfully reproduce your inner emotions, Peppy! Maybe that stuff about the male having a retarded left side of the brain has some validity, after all. <What's this place?> Pause. <Is it far?>

The Clefairy shrugs. "Fairy clefairy," <If I remember right, a few days' walk. I might be wrong, though. It could be closer or farther or...> she sighs and shrugs. "Clefairy fairy clef." <It was a long time ago,> she finally finishes with. <Why d'you ask?> she asks.

Peppy gives another look to the hole behind him. This gaze is a little more prolonged, and it's easy to see that the dog is thinking about something. <Just... curious,> he replies, turning his head to Ping once more. A little bit of vitality has perked up into the Growlithe's eyes. <Just... wondering if, er, Muj-stick would be able to help me out, too.> The Wonderful Bastet of PokeOz. He spares one last look at the hole behind him, though this one is quick. His attention refocuses on Ping, wondering if she understands just what the hole is for, now. He doesn't bet on it.

Ping nodnods. "Clefairy fairy!" <She sure would!> she says, not bothering to correct Peppy on his termanology. She still doesn't seem to understand why he's digging the hole, either. "Clef?" <Are you gonna look for her with me? If so, you better put whatever you're putting in that hole in there!> she says. Well, why else would he be looking at it?

Peppy hesitates for a moment longer, before finally showing a really cheerful spark. With an enthusiastic nod, the puppy announces, <I'll go!> The spirited moment vanishes in only a few moments, however, as the dog remembers something. Someone, actually. The dog seems to droop visibly, and he woofs softly, <... Just... not yet. I have to see somebody first.> Here comes the cheery perk again. <She might wanna know.> Who in the world is he talking about? Could it be Patch? Or Jameka? Or Aurora? Or somebody else?

Ping smiles and nods a little bit. "Clefairy.. fairy clef fairyfay." <I gotta stop ta rest, anyway.> She looks over at the hole Peppy dug. "Fairy clefairy fay fairy?" <If you aren't gonna fill it, can I borrow that hole?> she asks, pointing over to it. Before Peppy can even answer, she hops in, just to see if it fits.

The puppy opens his mouth to voice a protest, but it looks like Ping is a full few leaps and bounds ahead of him. <You can have it,> Peppy growls quietly, glancing in the young Clefairy's direction. More at the hole than the new friend, however. With a slight cocking of the head that's almost like a shrug, the Growlithe sets himself down on the snowy ground, resting his chin upon his front paws. He can come back after the storm is over, he tells himself, yawning loudly while he thinks. Maybe a little later... With one final glance at the normal type, the lazy puppy plops his fuzzy cheeks back down onto his paws, and closes his eyes. The dog's last thought is a simple one: Hope it doesn't snow tomorrow.

Ping ducks down, and... begins to sing? She sings lightly for a few moments before tapering down and just breathes softly. The bowl covers the hole nicely, and soon both she and Peppy are sleeping, probably unaware just what kind of weather they're going to have to deal with very soon.