Contents:
Navarone
Obvious exits:
North <N> leads to Overgrown Lands - Route 11: Off the Route.

Towering white clouds drift slowly through the blue sky. It's hazy and hot, and the glare of the sun seems to drain the color from the landscape. In the forest, the shade under the deep green leaves of the trees is welcome relief from the hot glare of the sun. While at the coast, the sea sparkles in the brilliant sunlight, the waves rolling merrily against the shore.

Instead of being as stressed out as normal, however, the parents are having a blast; Aurora, the mother of the family, laughs as the kids whirl around her at lightning speed, and even sets up a race for them when some of the more intelligent Growlithes realize that playing a game with no point isn't very fun. The father, Peppy, seems more content to sit on the sidelines and watch, though he'll occasionally woof words of inspiration or at least interest. Every so often, however, his eyes will stray from the spectacle, trying to locate a certain one-eyed Vulpix in the barn. If Navarone is there, he'll watch the other fire type for a second before returning to his kids. If the Vulpix is not... well, same thing. How curious.

Saving the data is only the beginning... (Saving!)

The warm day slowly draws to an end, drawing the curtains and settling into the darker shades of night. Swapping the warm-coloured clouds for the veil of stars, the night brings a slight chill to it, a grace that the day lacks. The night is also the more favourable half of the day to this one certain aforementioned Vulpix as well, as he lays in the straw, a few yards or so away from where Peppy and Aurora are, along with their pups. Lying on his side, he's as still as a corpse, but the occasional swish of the tails and flicker of the ears betray that image. He still looks as thin as ever, since the Assisi Barn only hands out food in the winter, but there's a sliver of health in him, if but only a sliver amongst his troubled state. His one opal-esque eye gazes ahead at the pups, energetic and vibrant, a seemingly direct contrast to his own state. The spectacle will cause just about any one, be it an uncle doting on kids, or the icy heart of an uncaring, loveless soul; break out in a grin. Every so often, when Peppy turns to look at him, his eyes will dart over, meet his, and quickly dart back to the pups playing, ears flickering again, his cheeks flushing behind the orange fur.

Briska, perhaps realizing that he's been paying more attention to his mom (after all, she -is- the one actually participating with the puppies), feels a little guilty for neglecting his father. On the next loop around, he slows down as he comes near his dad, coming to a stop in front of him. As Peppy tears his eyes away from Navarone and turns back to the kids, he is surprised to see little Briska plop right down on his haunches and beam at his pop. He opens his mouth, and gets out a <H-> before - pow! Dusk, following right behind him, finds herself unable to stop when her brother does, and she crashes right into his side with a yip of surprise. Both fall over. Karen and Dakota immediately after find themselves caught in the pile-up, and the mass of wiggling paws and yipping heads is only broken up after Peppy, half-amused and half-worried, picks them back up by the scruff with his teeth and sets them down on all four paws again. Tow-truck dad. After paying Peppy their thanks (some with actual translatable words, others with merely pointless yaps), the four continue on their tracks, leaving the poor adult to exhale a poof of exhaustion. They need his supervision even when they're not doing anything. Turning over to Navarone, Peppy pauses for a second, glances to Aurora, peers back at Navarone, and looks back and forth between the two before finally landing on the Vulpix. <They're anxious today,> he woofs to the Vulpix, his bushy white tail wagging behind him as he makes a gesture with his head towards the dashing bunch of juveniles. <Wish we could have let 'em out.>

What's not to smile at? As the Growlithe version of a highway pile-up occurs, Navarone lets out a honest and not too loud laugh, his smile perking up. Instead of viewing everything through his askewed vision (everything looks strange when you're on your side), he slowly presses himself up, his forepaws pushing himself upwards into a seated position, tails taking their natural place; curled around the Vulpix. As Peppy soon sorts out the mess of fur into orderly fashion, he finds himself trying to think back to his own days as a little cub. Of course, he tries to recall a time when he might have been like this, but nothing comes to mind. No tussling with siblings, no father at his side, nothing but the faint and brief image of his mother. That is all. Just as the Vulpix starts to settle into depression once more, a familiar voice makes him look up. He grins, beaming. <They are, aren't they? Bouncing little balls of energy wrapped in fur, so restless>, he says, voice somewhat cheerful and yet hinting at a shadowy past with a wispy tone. <What, all five of 'em?>, he comments, <They'd run all over the place. getting lost is one thing, but there have been strange things out there-- don't wanna run into that.> Now that his mind is off Streetwind, at least he finds himself at ease.

Peppy admittedly only pays Navarone half attention - half of his mind has to be on the puppies, not so much because he doesn't think that Aurora can handle them alone, but that he doesn't want to appear irresponsible in front of her. His eyes meet his mate's before long, and he kind of slightly gestures towards him, furry orange eyebrows perking slightly. Aurora gives one slow nod in reply. Peppy grins broadly, turns to Navarone, pauses, turns back, nodnods in thanks to Aurora, rotates back to the Vulpix, and settles down. Not a word is spoken, but that doesn't inhibit understanding. The Growlithe nods to the Vulpix as though he heard every word, even if he's only pulling the general gist of it (he only listened to about half of what the other fire type had to say). <Oh, but ever since Briska... is... kind of over that 'bright hole' thing, he's been wanting to go back out. Hunting, I think. When that Sandslash gets back, maybe we'll be able to start. Finally.> He attempts a smile, but it doesn't go across well; it's more of a nervous appearance than anything else, his cheeks puffing up towards his eyes in a kind of scrunched-up look.

Whether or not his words fly over the pup's head and drift like the fading daylight, the firefox cares little. Pep is a busy puppy pokemon, that's a sure thing, so Navarone considers it a pleasure that he even manages to catch a gist of his conversation, let alone start one, let alone try and use all of his brain cells at -once- and concentrate on two things at the same time. <Oh!>, he chirps as soon as he hears the word hunting. <Well, they are at that tender age where you're gonna have to learn to hunt.> No mention is made about the Sandslash; perhaps his mind doesn't permit hi to remember, not at the moment. <I sure hope that Sandslash is a good tutor.> The unnerved smile doesn't go unnoticed, as he he looks at the pup questioningly, his gaze bordering into a peer. <Got something on your mind?>

Peppy can hardly concentrate on two things in the same day, let alone at the same time. Perhaps Navarone is right to not expect too much from the dog. Navarone gets a blank stare in reply to his first statement, which is quickly followed by a somewhat snappy, <I know how to hunt!> It's not really angry or rude, just an assertion on Peppy's part, a struggling attempt to get a foothold on the mountain of dignity. <... Pretty well!> Slight slip. <Though, uh...> Foomph. Head goes down, eyes flick to the side, voice becomes quiet. <Though I could use a couple pointers.> Can we say, hint hint? Dakota, suspicious of the conversation, spots Dad talking to Uncle NavNav, and slinks upon behind her pop, quiet as a mouse. The sneaking up is pointless, for almost immediately she yaps, <Hi, daddy! Who are you talking to? What are you talking about?> The look on Peppy's face is positively priceless, those green eyes doubling in area and his mouth jutting open as he takes in a gasp. <Nothing!> he arfs rather quickly, turning to Dakota. <Nothing, hon, just talking about grownup stuff, oh look, there's Briska, why don't you go play with him? Hurry on, now!> And before an if, and, or but can be woofed, Dakota is shooed along, pushed if necessary. Looks like somebody's really scared about botching up Operation Teach Hunting.

Saving the data is only the beginning... (Saving!)

As Navarone peers inquisitively ahead, he starts a little when Peppy suddenly exclaims his proud ability to hunt. As his mirth fades, along with the sureness of his voice, the firefox grins a little in response. <Can't say that I'm the best hunter, but I do know a few things about scavenging. Got plenty of experience in that field.> Indeed. It's not everyday that one can easily find a meal, or even have the energy to hunt, so scavenging is the best alternative. Though with Navarone, he tends to excel at it. He does spy the little female puppy sneaking up behind her father, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Dakota strikes first, and Navarone's jaw closes once more. As he watches Peppy wave her off, he tries to speak again. <You haven't introduced me to all of them yet, actually. The only one I know is...> He pauses as he stares at all the pups, trying to figure out who is who and which might be the one called Briska. <... A-anyway. What were you saying?> A direct, if not pathetic attempt to veer off the subject.

Towering white clouds drift slowly through the blue sky. It's hazy and hot, and the glare of the sun seems to drain the color from the landscape.

The words about scavenging cause Peppy to squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head fiercely, as though the thought of finding something already dead is somehow worse than killing it himself. The mind of a predator is a paradox. Peppy himself is a little anxious to get off the whole hunting topic too, and when Navarone express some interest in the puppies, the proud father is more than happy to jump upon it. <Oh, it's really easy to tell them apart!> he arfs happily, rotating his body so that he can easily switch back and forth between Vulpix and family. <The littlest one with the black on her ears is Dusk. The one... who just pas... I mean, who she just pa... uh, who pas...> Indeed, Dusk and another female are racing each other, and neither has a very good grasp on the lead; they keep switching places. <The one right next to her,> Peppy finally decides on, <is Karen. And the really fast one... the one I sent away, she's Dakota. Those are the girls. Over there in the corner is Flame, and that one right there... Aurora says he looks like me the most, but...> But Peppy has a poor grasp on what he looks like, except for that scar on his muzzle. <Anyway, that's Briska.> It doesn't matter if Navarone tries to ask a question or is obviously ignoring him; Peppy will continue to speak, a record player whose pause button is broken.

Well, there's always the mute to try. Or the stop button. Though Navarone's mind isn't on any of those things right now. Quite the opposite really. Ears positioning themselves to hear Peppy better, he stares intently at all of the pups, looking to each one in turn as Peppy introduces them. <Okay, that's Dusk..>, looking towards the petite little pup, darkly shaded, as if night lent its darkness to her. His eyes circle as he watches Dakota and Karen race each other in a madcap chase for the checkered flag (or whatever the Pokemon equivalent of it is), the sight bringing a slight dizziness over him. They're fast! <Right. Karen... Dakota. Flame.> And eventually, Peppy comes to the pup most familiar to the firefox. <Oh, so that's Briska.> He grins, and turns to Pep. <I have to agree with you there. Really does look like you.> Shortsighted as he may be, he can pick Briska out rather easily now from the rest. <Okay, so it's Briska, Dakota, Karen, Dusk.... and Flame. Okay.> He grins, as his (short-term) memory serves him well. Then a sudden change in attitude. From being chirpy and cheerful, he suddenly hunches over, and shuffles his paws. <Uh, Pep... Can I ask you something?>

Peppy reddens faintly behind his fur at Navarone's comment about Briska, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling in embarassment before locking them back onto the little pup, busy in a playfight with one of his sisters. <... I guess I'll take that as a compliment,> he expresses to himself, smiling warmly at his son's antics. All of his kids are beautiful, especially to him; to say he looks like any one of them is a wonderful compliment. Peppy stops thinking about Navarone for a few moments to watch them, pride swelling in his chest. The Vulpix, however, strips his attention away from the little ones, and, shaking his head slightly, the Growlithe turns back to the Vulpix. The Growlithe opens his mouth to speak, before the other fire type's depressed, drooping demeanor catches his attention. Peppy's eyes furrow in suspicion, and he tilts his head to the side slightly, reading his body for a bit. After a moment of this scrutenizing, he woofs softly, his voice concerned, <What's the matter?>

<I, uhm, err, ahh...> If Vulpixes could rub the back of their necks, Navarone would have rubbed his fur off, and made his flesh go raw. He spouts more nonsense of the sort, trying to raise his voice a little as times to address his own question but just as quickly diving back into incomprehensible mumblings. Words struggle to form. <I, err-- do you-- I mean-- am I-- is it-- LOVE!> He manages to shout, frustrated at his own inability to form a single coherent sentence. Then he realizes his /very/ big mistake, and caps his two front paws over his mouth, his one eye wide open, the bright opal swirling in a cocktail of horror, fright and embarrassment. If the pups and/or Aurora pause and look at him, he will quickly duck intothe safety of his own fur, hiding behind a wall of tails, curling round tightly. He flushes furiously, his ears turning bright red and flickering madly, and you could probably see the red in his cheeks. And on he goes. <T-t-that's not what I m-meant..>

Peppy just stares at Navarone. What in the world is this Vulpix referring to? Peppy's initial thought, horribly enough, is that Navarone is referring to love for *him*, and that just leaves the poor Growlithe entirely lost. Then the Growlithe wonders if the Vulpix is referring to the love Peppy has for Aurora, or for his puppies! And then, finally, it hits him. Sort of funny how the same thing Peppy's been thinking about for the past week eludes him when he's actually faced with it. "Grooooooooooolithe," Peppy drolls softly, a mischevious grin slowly forming on his face. If the puppies notice, Peppy doesn't see them. <Between you an...> Even if Navarone doesn't tell him to hush or glare daggers at him, Peppy will thankfully catch himself and not say her name. <... Well,> he starts again, now in a much quiter voice. He leans forward slightly to keep it as secretive as possible. <Here's how I felt. It's like you really, really, *really* want to be with her but the last thing in the world you want is for her to *know* you really, really, really want to be with her. So you really, really, really don't want to be with her because then she might find out that you do really, really, really want to be with her, and then she might not like you or laugh and then it doesn't matter if you want to be with her or not because she'll leave.> Ho-lee cow. Good luck, Nav.

Okay. Aside from the fact that Navarone probably let that all go through one ear and out the other, the Vulpix is just scared to death. Still, he manages to nod, in an abrupt, staccato manner. Who did the role reversal? Since when did Peppy suddenly become the one who *cough* -subtly- mentioned a hint of romance between them? And since when did Navarone turn into this babbling lovesick idiot? Fire the casting director! <I-I-It's not that...>, he sputters, his own words working like a slow balm to his shaken self. His cheeks are still flushed, his ears still glowing with the warmth of humility, but at least he isn't quite so likely to stutter. <I mean... do you really think that I>, he pauses, swallowing, <..love her? I mean, I haven't thought of it before you brought it up, and now I'm not sure what to think.> He sighs, his head swiveling away from him. <When I left to help her, I just wanted to help her, and that was all. I never really had any feelings, I just wanted to do what I thought was best. But now that you talk about it... it really does seem like I did it out of love, huh?> Raising his head, he smiles weakly at the pup.

See, this is something Peppy can't fathom. Navarone is referring to a rampant psychopath with a dominant personality, while Aurora's been nothing but sweet, intelligent, and above all loving. But then, even Peppy's been there, where the line between friend and love is blurred and you don't know what's real or not. <Well,> the pup woofs uncertainly, shifting his weight from one side to the other. <I think she's kind of mean, and kind of ungrateful...> His little black nose twitches and scrunches. <And I think she'd be really mad to any babies you might have.> If Navarone will let Peppy speak further (which may be possible, if the thought of Navarone/Streetwind kits stuns him into silence), the Growlithe will peer up at his head thoughtfully before speaking more. <But I think she's smart, and I think that's really important.> He turns his head to the side, not enough to see Aurora, but the implication is there. <And she'd probably be a good hunter. And she's... she's... uh...> Poor pup, stretch your brain! Playing matchmaker isn't that hard! <... Strong, I guess.> Whoo.

Navarone simply nods in response to the puppy pokemon's spoken thoughts, each nod as pronounced as the last. When he finally finishes, he looks off into the corner of his eye, and watches the pups play, quite oblivious to the whole scene, to his embarrassment, to Peppy's coaching. The sight makes him think a bit about Peppy's comment, and he laughs out loud, somewhat strange given his current state. <Babies.> His mouth curls up into a vulpine smile, quite amused, and at the same time thoughtful. Uh oh. <Still... I doubt that she'd ever want anything to do with me, ever again. Even if I love her or not, nothing changes. It's like you said just now,> he pauses, searching for a snippet of speech that hasn't entirely bypassed his brain, <...that if she finds out, she'll laugh me off, call me a dreamer. She's got no time for things like this... love.. kids..> His ears droop forward, and his head hangs. His heart nags, crying out to him, persuading and trying to change his mind. Hoping. <... But.. *sigh*. I don't know..>

The sun sets, the western clouds turning purple, red, and gold. It's hazy and warm.

The orange-red sun sinks below the western horizon, leaving a darkening tapestry of purple and red-gold clouds behind it.

Dr. Peppy, loooove expert, isn't very much help right now. Upon reflection of his own time during the crush, yes, Peppy was positive Aurora didn't like him, but upon reflection he figures that he was overexaggerating. Given what he knows about Streetwind, however, the Vulpix is probably not far from the truth at all. Still, Peppy's never been known to play a very good pessimist, so he tries his best to cheer his friend up. <You never know,> he says softly, a light head tilt as he himself ponders Streetwind the Mommy. A small, sneaky smile slips onto the dog's face for a second as he recalls something, and a light blush behind his white cheeks colors his face. <... Aurora and I, um, used to... sometimes we'd blush, or stutter, or catch ourselves looking at each other and turn away. That's how we kind of...> The blush picks up even further. <Well, how we dealt with it before we became mates. But... well... Streetwind...> His head kind of bobbles back and forth, as though entertaining an idea he knows may not be correct. He shrugs his shoulders slightly as best as he can. <Maybe she just shows her affection in a different way. Does she treat you differently than when you met her? Maybe she likes you too and is trying to hide it.> Those four brain cells are really pulling their weight in there.

The full moon gleams overhead, its light turning the clouds to tarnished silver.

Saving the data is only the beginning... (Saving!)

Peppy's description of his days of courting Aurora do make Navarone think a bit, about his own experiences with Streetwind. He sifts through the memories, trying to find times when the two of them might have had an awkward feeling. No such luck. He lets his head drift earthwards again, shaking it. What a fool you are, Navarone. Expecting her, /her/ of all pokemon, to even have the slightest hint of liking you. She doesn't like -anyone-. As Peppy mentions Streetwind, Navarone looks up again, and just cuts in. <I know how you feel about her. She's not exactly the kind of person that shows emotion, so it's hard to say. But I don't think she even thinks of me. It'd only make her angrier.> Peppy's last comment makes him ponder once more, once again sifting through memories. <Well... when I first met her, she didn't even pay attention.. then when I finally got her attention, she... well...> He lifts his head up, revealing his neck to the Growlithe. The scars around his life-vein are apparent, obvious, hopelessly disturbing. He drops his head down, and continues. <After that, I tried to help her. I went out there, and found her... And for a while, she acted differently. But that was then...> He shakes his head, in accordance to his words. <She hates me more than ever.>

This is not the first time Peppy has questioned why Navarone would care for Streetwind, of all pokemon. The odds seem hopelessly dismal. Streetwind is a psycho at best and a brick wall at worst, and there's the issue of Navarone's single eye, something Peppy adamantly refuses to refer to in fear of hurting Navarone's feelings. Would he still care for Aurora if she...?

Brindled clouds conceal a few patches of starlit sky.

And of course, there's little that Peppy could do to sway his thoughts, to change the way he thinks. He's right back to square one again, and he shakes his head. A sigh. <You're right. As if anything could ever happen between the two of us.> He can say that easily enough, but his heart, this tiny little voice, really does its best to argue. But even that eventually gives up. The next best thing to do right now would be to forget Streetwind, get on with his life-- and yet, forgetting her would be a mistake. And who could forget the one who nearly took your life? There's a strange tie in that sense, an eerie bond, a link between the two of them now. And it's not necessarily that of love. On the contrary. Memories come back like clockwork, playing through his mind like a projector, watching helplessly as he worked so hard to get her to change, to be peaceful, to be in touch with emotion-- and then how she brutally used them against him, the fires of rage nearly claiming his life once more. A dark pit grows within his heart, and it swallows the thoughts, the reveries of a time long past. Watching Peppy walk off towards his children, he nods favourably, not answering, only sitting on his haunches. His one eye wanders, and it drifts, from the barn doors to the walls to the scorch-marks. The fires within him rage, and it shows in his eyes. A silent whisper is said, dispersing in the wind. A threat of murder.