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

Briska has connected.

Bright colors, sweetness, and light! Candylion-springtimes! (We're saved!)

The sky is blue and cloudless, the sunlight is bright, and a cool wind blows from the northwest. In the forest, the wind rustles the bright green leaves of trees and bushes and carries Bellsprout pollen, downy seeds, and the fragrance of wildflowers along with it. While at the coast, the ocean is a deep cool blue today, the waves lapping at the coast gently under the warm yellow sun.

The sun slowly descends beyond the horizon as the day starts to come to a close. The pokemon that scuttle about during the day on hunts or gathering trips have started to return to their dens, trees, or, so is the case for one Growlithe family, the barn. The day was beautiful - the weather was warm, the air was fresh, and everything was perfect. Unfortunately for the father of the mentioned Growlithe family, any time not spent out there sneaking around to find dinner for the family was spent rushing about the barn, making sure his pups aren't getting themselves into mischief. Upon Peppy's insistence, Aurora has decided to spend this time catching up on the sleep she missed last night due to this disturbance or that. Even though Peppy guarenteed he'd be fine watching the kids alone, he wasn't up to fulfil this promise. Right now, he leans against the side of the door. One would think he's watching the sunset until one sees his face and realizes that the ever reliable babysitter is fast asleep, his body limp against the side of the door.

Flame is off taking a snooze in his own secluded corner of the barn, and the black furred pup is covered from head to toe in a thin layer of hay and straw. The only thing that's visible about the young Growlithe is his nose, which pokes out from underneath his homemade blanket. It seems that Flame has the nocturnal sleeping habits of a vampire, for as soon the sun begins to sink below the horizon, the Growlithe shows sings of stirring from his comatose state. Shaking his head, he slowly opens his eyes and lets out a tongue-exposing yawn. Letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the barn, Flame blinks a few times before getting to his paws. Wiping some excess moisture from his eyes with his paw, the scheming canine snaps his jaws open and closed, licking his lips with his salmon pink tongue. Flame then lets his eyes wander about the barn as he tries to assess the locations of his other family members. One can never let their guard down completely.

Not unlike Peppy, the four orange-coated puppies have pretty much drained themselves from yet another day of ever productive running around and playing. Those puppies that decide against flopping against mom's side are content to at least lie down near her, exchanging words with their limited language and pointing out the occasional strand of straw that streaks by, propelled by some unfelt gust of wind. This breeze becomes more forceful to those near the entrance to the barn, and as the cool force pressed against the furry face of the figure at the door, Peppy snaps to attention, his back stiffening, his chest jutting forward. "G... growli!" he quickly woofs as reason sinks back in; he's supposed to be watching the kids. And instead he's sleeping. Great job, dad. Taking a moment or two to gather his whereabout, he slowly turns his head back into the barn, as if fearful that, during his short rest, the puppies managed to set the house on fire.

The sky is blue and cloudless, the sunlight is bright, and a cool wind blows from the northwest.

Flame watches his mother and siblings from the seclusion of his corner, scowling at their amusement and small talk. What's so interesting about straw? They sleep in it, roll in it, and eat off of it. Why then, do his siblings find it such a fascinating object to watch? Flame snorts and turns his attention away from the picturesque scene, flattening his ears against his head in a sign of annoyance. The moody adolescent eventually lets his emeralds settle on his father, and he presses his lips into a firm line. His expression is thoughtful as he sits on his haunches, and his eyes only convey cold maliciousness. Silently, he appears to be plotting something, but whether it's the downfall of his parents, or the theft of his sister's food, only the Growlithe himself knows. His body remains relaxed, and he arches his eyebrows as he continues to peer at his father. "Lithe," he woofs, announcing that Peppy isn't the only one that's awake.

Even though there are no screams of agony or pain, no cries of mercy, no shrieks of terror and death, Peppy still expects there to be a shambles behind him. How long was he asleep? Was it very long? Is Aurora awake? Will she get mad at him for falling asleep? Will it matter if the barn is seconds away from collapsing on them? All of these thoughts smack into Peppy's head over the entire course of the three seconds it takes to turn his head to see... a perfectly happy barn with three sleeping Growlithes, two mumbling ones, and a Growlithe peering at him. Peppy stares right back for a moment or two, before that utterly perplexed look on the Growlithe's face shifts into one a little more calm and warm. <Hi there, Flame,> he greets the black-furred pup, before looking past the Growlithe at the spot he's occupied all day. <I guess you're not sleepy, are you? You've been asleep since I got home.> He says this like it's something special, as though Flame has never once stayed up later than Aurora before. His voice carries a tone of forced comfort.

The puppy peering at Peppy jerks his head upwards when his father speaks, and his ears flick in the older Growlithe's direction. Flame's look of thoughtful indifference morphs into one of growing impatience. Honestly, everyday it seems that Peppy is even less observant than his brainless brother. His father's last comment causes Flame to suck in a deep breath, and shake his head from side to side as he mutters something underneath his breath. Exhaling that breath in the form of an exaggerated sigh, Flame's eyes frost over with a look of negativity. <Not sleepy.> he assures his father, glancing down at the floorboards, and adding a scratch mark to his collection of them. When he lifts his head again, his tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth as he stares at Peppy. <Nice,> he pauses, narrowing his eyes and knitting his brows menacingly, <Sleep?> he finishes in an accusing tone of voice. Had Flame really been sleeping all that time after all?

Bright colors, sweetness, and light! Candylion-springtimes! (We're saved!)

Peppy does not like Flame's tone of voice, young man. The older Growlithe looks down at Flame for a few moments. He does not exactly glare, so to speak, but he does seem lost in thought over something. He remains almost motionless with the exception of his rising and falling chest, which seems to expand a little more than usual. Flame's either making Peppy nervous or angry; Peppy's face doesn't give much indication. After a few moments, he sighs slightly, as though giving in to Flame. He nods his head a couple times as he glances to the side. <Yeah, nice sleep.> How long was he asleep? Was Flame the only one to notice? Peppy can only consider himself at the black-furred one's mercy if he doesn't want to get a possible scolding from his mate. He sneaks a glance back at Flame, listening for a reply from the black one.

Peppy's response gets a tail wag from Flame. His father's stare doesn't seem to frighten him, or put him back into his place. He doesn't cower away from the larger Growlithe, nor does he assume any type of submissive posture. His tail remains where he holds it, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. Flame can feel the power in the air, and he wants to bask in this moment of victory, and to wallow in his pool of superiority. He returns his father's stare with an expression of condescending, almost as if he's scolding Peppy for having fallen asleep on the job. His eyes remain glued to Peppy's, and they sparkle with mischievous intent. Unfortunately, for Peppy, Flame seems to understand the value of his knowledge. And, to make things worse, it doesn't appear as though he has one ounce of pity or mercy within him either. <Good,> he murmurs, letting the word roll of his tongue as he thinks his plan of action through. <Who watch?> he asks, nodding his head to Aurora and his siblings, and then gesturing to himself.

Perhaps Peppy didn't expect a squeak of fear and a look of pure terror from Flame at his simple glance, but the older Growlithe certainly doesn't expect a pose of victory and a smile of amusement. For once, instead of growing confused and uncertain, Peppy catches on exactly to what Flame's actions represent, and it causes the pokemon to shift his weight onto his two right limbs, looking down on Flame with a disapproving frown. Certainly Flame wouldn't do this to his own father? Certainly Peppy's forgetting that this is Flame. <Look, son,> Peppy woofs, glancing up at the ceiling as he's prone to do when he's trying to avoid getting stressed out. <It was a really long day. I spent a long time hunting, then watching you guys... I just wanted to sleep for little bit.> Though he tries to make his voice sound strong and fair, Flame just might be able to boil it down to the basics, if he can understand enough of Peppy's words. The older Growlithe is definitely asking for mercy.

The power Flame is feeling is so strong he can almost taste it on the tip of his tongue. Boy, is control sweet and delicious. The puppy wants to wring the air out like a washrag, and suck this feeling out of it like precious moisture. Watching his father try and explain himself gets Flame chuckling in a manner disturbingly similar to some mad scientist's. While the intelligent pup doesn't understand all of what his father is saying, he can understand a lot going by his father's body posture, and tone of voice alone. What's this? Peppy is asking for mercy? He's pleading for forgiveness? Does he remember whom he is asking this from? Flame takes one confident step forward, swaggering pompously. Today he gets to make judgment! He holds the key to Peppy's future in his paws! His father is to do with as he chooses! His heart swells and thuds in his chest, as he gets to play judge. Flame tries to control himself, and to make this luxurious moment of absolute power last as long as he can stretch it. <I see,> he states blandly, pretending not to be convinced.

Bright colors, sweetness, and light! Candylion-springtimes! (We're saved!)

The sky is blue and cloudless, the sunlight is bright, and a cool wind blows from the northwest.

There's no use reasoning with Flame; if Peppy hasn't learned this yet, he's going to learn it now. Every strand of Peppy's body wants him to get mad, to enforce his position as father, to finally once and for all make Flame realize that he can't go about bossing dad around. Unfortunately, Peppy's sympathetic, perhaps even soft, nature gets the best of him, and, with a sigh strong enough to drop his head a few inches so that he stares at the ground, the Growlithe walks right past Flame, not giving the black one a glance. Is this an act of giving up? Of conceding the victory? Embarrassment at his son? Embarrassment at himself? Or simple disappointment? Whatever the case, he doesn't let on about it. He starts to approach the two puppies that are still awake, stops halfway, and shakes his head. His paws grip the floor. Wow - Flame must have him really miffed.

Yes, squirm Peppy! That's it, plead, beg, cry for sympathywalk away? Flame's bottom jaw drops at his dad's reaction. The pup's stomach leaps into his throat, then refuses to come back down as he watches Peppy retreat. What does he think he's doing? Where is he walking off to? He hasn't finished yet! Flame grits his teeth together, and all the muscles in his body tense as he fumes angrily. His upper lip twitches as he struggles to contain a furious snarl, and he somehow manages to gulp some saliva down to wet his drying throat. Now Flame's at a loss for words, and isn't sure how to handle this type of situation. The power has been removed from his control, and now he feels as helpless as a Magikarp flopping on the surface of a sizzling frying pan. He's going to seize control of this situation somehow! But, how? He shuts his eyes tightly as he rummages through his brain, struggling to come up with a plan to save this dying situation. He must salvage this, and save his face! Finally, the answer comes to him. Groan. Is this the only way? Sigh. <I won't tell,> he pipes up, his voice reassuring. Heck, he even wags his tail a few times. Will he regain control, or has he pushed Peppy too far this time?

Though Flame won't be able to see it, since Peppy is turned away from the puppy, the older Growlithe's eyes widen slightly at Flame's short but oh-so-sweet sentence. He remains frozen for a moment. His eyes shift to the side, and he slowly turns his head to glance back at the suddenly far more submissive puppy. Flame gets a suspicious glance from dad, as though Peppy's trying to work out if this is some kind of trick or trap or Flame being a good guy after all. Peppy inhales through his nose and, as he exhales, walks around in a semi-circle to face Flame once again. <... You won't?> There a brief pause as Peppy's mouth stretches into a smile, his face almost a tad disbelieving. <... Really?> If this really is a trap, Peppy's falling hook, line, and sinker for it.

A perfectly good situation ruined! He should have reacted more quickly, taken what he could when he had the chance! Now here he is, handing Peppy back his blackmail material. Flame is no longer floating high on a cloud of superiority, where he makes the last call. Now the black furred pup is drowning in misery, fighting to keep his head above the water, lest he become engulfed in his own embarrassment. When Peppy turns to smile at Flame, the young Growlithe casts his gaze to the floor, hiding a disappointed sneer. Such a good opportunity handed to him, only to be taken away minutes afterwards. <I won't.> Flame repeats, offering his father a curt nod, once he musters up the urge to lift his eyes from the floor. Peppy's disbelief with the situation is trying on Flame's patience, and the teenage pup fights to keep his anger under control. <Really.> he assures his father, sighing loudly at this miniature defeat. <Secret.> he adds for good measure, with hopes that this will keep his father from asking him anymore-bothersome questions. Turning away from Peppy, Flame stares out the barn's door and peers outside.

Peppy's smile can't help but grow wider as Flame speaks to his father. He just got out of getting on Aurora's bad side! He screwed up and won't get in trouble for it! Here's to dumb luck! Flame's next actions seem rather depressed and sad, as though the thought of getting his dad in trouble gave him great delight and cheer. Peppy can only watch after the black-furred pup for a moment as he walks towards the barn door, wondering if that's really the reason. Peppy peeks over his shoulder briefly for a second to take a look at the two puppies that are still awake - and lo and behold, they aren't anymore. Briska now lies on his back, snoring slightly as Dusk presses her left ear into his neck, her chest pressed on his, using him as a pillow. Peppy watches them for a second before he turns back to Flame. All alone. His legs react before his mind does, and Peppy approaches Flame, taking a position right at the black pup's side whether he likes it or not. <... It's, uh... it's really nice out there, isn't it?>

Flame sits by the door, watching the outside with little interest. His posture isn't high and mighty anymore. Rather, it resembles a puppy that's just been smacked on the nose with a rolled up newspaper for soiling a brand new rug. His shoulders arch upwards, his back is bent, and he stares at the ground dejectedly. All alone. All alone until Peppy comes by and sits beside him. Flame isn't sure how to react to his father's actions. He doesn't know whether to snarl and spit at him like an angry Katerwaul, or to continue sitting there sulking. He eventually decides on the latter, too disappointed with the way everything's turned out to do much else. Peppy's attempts at conversation draw a look of confusion to Flame's features, and he glances at his father with an expression of questioning bewilderment. You talking to me? Turning away from Peppy, Flame looks outside again, as if pondering his father's question. <Nice?> he asks, as if unfamiliar with any word that has a positive meaning associated with it. <Want night. Like dark.> he informs his father, snapping his jaw shut as he attempts to eat a fly buzzing past his face.

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

Peppy looks down at his son as the smaller Growlithe speaks. There isn't much expression notable in his fuzzy face; he's simply adopting a state of full attention, like one he gives to Aurora. <Well,> he barks after a moment or so, facing the door once again. The sky is getting darker by the minute, and the night's cool wind picks up a notch. <You can't have the night if you don't have the sunset, right?> Peppy's fur shakes back and forth in the breezes, and his ears twitch a couple times in retaliation to the pressure working against them. Instead of moving to a less windy spot, however, the dog simply closes his eyes for a moment, embracing the breeze as he inhales the cool air deeply. As the gusts die down, he exhales softly, his shoulders falling as he does. <It's a nice dusk tonight,> he mumbles to himself.

Flame seems to enjoy the chilliness of the night, and he seems to anticipate the oncoming darkness like a Zubat cooped up in its cave during the daytime. Peppy's shot at philosophy just confuses and frustrates Flame. He doesn't want a speech about good and bad, light and dark, night and day. He just wants the sun to go away, so he can see the moon, and look at the stars. <I guess,> Flame manages to mutter, although his voice is far from that of someone who is being agreeable. Peppy's next statement gets a shrug from the ever-indifferent Flame, and he runs his tongue across his maw boredly. <Don't like Dusk.> he informs Peppy, a look of certainty about his puppyish features. Whether he's talking about the weather, or about his dark furred sibling is a bit of a mystery, though it's likely that he's speaking about the latter. Thoroughly disgusted with the new topic of conversation, Flame picks himself up and heads towards his scratched up corner. <Secret,> he says again, just in case Peppy forgot or something pea brained like that. On his way to his corner, Flame smiles. This information is his secret after all. Maybe her will get to use it someday.