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

Everything is grey, veiled by mist. It's chilly and the air feels damp. There is no wind. In the forest, only the nearest tree branches, half-bereft of leaves, 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.

How sad it is that the people across the island who couldn't wait for winter to roll around during the summer are the very same people who complain about it being too cold. If Peppy the Growlithe cursed and hated the sticky mugginess of a hot summer then, he misses it now. It's bleek and misty outside, awful weather for any predator. The senses of sound, sight, and smell are all stifled by the smog, and the squish-squish-squish that paws make on the damp ground give any lucky ol' Rattata enough of an advantage to flee from the larger pokemon before he even realizes they're close. Needless to say, Peppy has been out hunting for a few hours now, and he's not bound to find himself resting comfortably at home for a little while now... and even then, he'll be all wet and bothered and grumpy. Days like this are ones Peppy can easily do without.

Rattata snatching things away, save the base without delay! (Saving)

It's certainly true that those who complain about autumn and winter weather aren't wrong - thick fog is not enjoyable for those who have to hunt in it, and nor is it encouraging to those whose mates have gone out to hunt. As usual, Aurora is watching the puppies and waiting for Peppy to return with a Rattata, and as usual she's more than a little worried. At least, she started off mildly nervous, but a fruitless wait of several hours has led to her twitching wtih every creak of the barn, turning to the door to see if it's Peppy, and then sighing with frustration as it turns out to be a small breath of wind, or a noise made by one of the other families of pokemon in the barn. And there are often such noises, as the barn's starting to fill up - since even colder weather is approaching, some pokemon are taking the easy route of wintering in a place where they'll be fed and kept warm.

Indeed, some of those families who have returned since last year may look over into the corner with a mutter as they recall how loud the puppies were the previous winter, though the vast majority of pokemon who have returned to the barn over the past few days waddle over to the corner to comment on how big they are, why they must be almost adults, and look at that one, he must be taller than his father, isn't he? A few of those parties must have made their way inside the barn this morning, and Aurora can choose to ignore or not ignore these newcomers as she wishes; they're probably not interested in anything more than a little small talk anyway, more concerned about getting settled down in their own little section of the barn. After a seeming eternity, the door creaks and cracks, but it's not a little Squirtle looking for a place to stay - it's a Peppy, in the flesh, sporting a kind of small (but still large enough for a meal - hey, beggars can't be choosers in weather like this) Rattata in his mouth. His eyes are hanging, his tail is drooping, and his fur is soggy and sticky, and Peppy practically limps into the barn tiredly. Looks like somebody didn't have a very good hunt.

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

Rattata snatching things away, save the base without delay! (Saving)

The door creaks, Aurora twitches her head round to look - and, for once, the creaking noise has been made, not by a hesitant Meowth, or a young Squirtle playing against one of the walls, but by a certain rather soaked-looking Growlithe. Smiling with relief, Aurora gets up from the spot where she's been sitting, and trots over towards Peppy, stopping several feet from him. She's learnt what happens if you get too close to a sodden Growlithe, and is not keen to repeat the experience.

Rattata snatching things away, save the base without delay! (Saving)

Bleh. After dropping the meal on the ground in front of him, ,Peppy lifts his drooping head up slightly, just slightly, as he crouches down slightly and grips the floor, no doubt preparing to dry himself off. Ack! Hit the floor! Run away! As soon as those hanging green eyes catch sight of Aurora, however, they light up slightly, and the tiniest speckle of a smile marks itself on Peppy's face. He initially wonders why she's not walking any closer, and it takes a good moment before he finally figures it out. With a blink, he peers down at the floor, glances over at his stance, and woofs a soft "Rowl!" of an <Oh!>, popping right back up and locking all four limbs, putting himself at full height. <Uh... you know, maybe I'll go outside and do that.> The exhaustion is evident in his voice, but at least he's keeping himself cheerful enough. Whirring around on his paws, Peppy gives Aurora a quick nod before marching back to the door, his energy renewed, and slipping outside, no doubt to shake himself dry.

Aurora tenses a little as Peppy seems ready to set himself on "Spray", but as her mate realises why she's staying away, she relaxes a little - and when he heads outside to dry off, she grins a little and steps towards the Rattata. The pups get there first, of course - they've been playing for most of the morning, but the sight of Peppy returning was enough to attract them over to the door by the prospect of food, and four ravenous Growlithes now start on the poor inoffensive Rattata corpse. Their mother, meanwhile, waits for Peppy to return from shaking himself dry, and idly watches them with a smile on her face, and a rumble of sympathy in her own belly.

Everything is grey, veiled by mist. It's chilly and the air feels damp. There is no wind.

Fwoosh. When Peppy returns, he'll look like he's trying to set a new trend. Unlike rain, which tends to sink deep into the fur and not fully get dislodged by a little shaking, mist tends to cover only the perimeter of a moving animal, and it doesn't sink as deep into the skin; it often just feels worse since it's coupled with a soul-gripping chill. Therefore, when Peppy shakes himself dry, he sends a larger percentage of the water away... and ruffles up more of his own fur. Peppy is now very, very *poofy*. His back seems lined with jagged spikes, and his tuft is all ruffled and messy and almost silly to look at. Hair goes this way, that way, and all over, making for one very, very sloppy looking Growlithe. And he doesn't suspect a thing. <That must be some of the worst hunting weather ever,> Peppy notes with a wrinkle of his nose as he slowly approaches Aurora, looking around the barn at all the new citizens - two of whom wave at him, recognizing him from before, then muffling their snickers at his appearance when he turns away.

Rattata snatching things away, save the base without delay! (Saving)

As Peppy comes back in, doing his best impression of a Growlithe puffball, Aurora comes forward, this time stopping only a foot or two away from her mate. <It doesn't look like nice weather... and it was a bit scary wondering where you'd gone,> she says quietly, looking Peppy over to see if he's managed to pick up any injuries during the hunt. Satisfied that he hasn't got himself visibly wounded, she steps towards him and leans her muzzle over to try to nuzzle at Peppy's possibly-still-damp cheek. <I'm glad you're safe,> she murmurs as she does so.

Nah, Peppy's not hurt or bleeding or anything; his limp and grumpy demeanor are mostly the result of not getting enough sleep stockpiled on top of having to hunt in weather as terrible as this. Just think how much he'd complain if he wasn't a fire-type! When Aurora does her usual check-up on him, Peppy sighs a little, though puts up with it quietly enough. <Was I really gone for that long?> he asks, raising his eyebrows for a second or two before frowning and rolling his head around in a wide circle, stretching it out. <Yeah, I guess it *feels* like it's been a long time since I left the barn.> Grumble, grumble, grumble. Thankfully, if there's anything that can make a tired and cranky Peppy a tolerable one, it's Aurora, and when she nuzzles him on the cheek (probably noting that it is still slightly wet, though not dripping), he smiles slightly and nuzzles back, starting to feel better already. Phew!

Rattata snatching things away, save the base without delay! (Saving)

When the nuzzle's finally over, Aurora glances at the Rattata, which is now a messy pile of bones, skin, a few scraps of meat and the odd entrail. <Thank you for going hunting, Peppy, and braving that bad weather,> she says sincerely to her mate, and smiles. She glances out through the gap where the door's been left open, and asks, <Is there anything I can do to help? There's a nice pile of soft straw by the wall, if you'd like to have a nap. The puppies will be quiet, I'll tell them their father's tired from hunting.>

This nuzzle has to finish, as all nuzzles do, and, as Peppy thinks every single time it does end, it ended way too quickly. He frowns (just slightly) as he pulls back a bit, though the frown puffs up into a small smile when she thanks him for his job. No matter how many times he hears that, he still feels so happy of himself. Is it his ego calling, or is he simply glad to be able to feed for his family? Who knows? At Aurora's next comments, Peppy's smile brightens up even further, as the thought of sleeping right now is a very enticing thought. <I'd really like that!> Peppy woofs, almost hurriedly, ironically excited by the thought of sleeping. (That's a paradox if ever there was one.) He turns his head to the little "cot" in the corner, takes one step towards it... and stops. He pauses for a moment, turns to Aurora, and barks a happy, <Thanks!> before scampering off to the bed. Thanks for what? Thanks for telling the pups to be quiet for a few hours? Thanks for just knowing that he'd be tired when he got home? Or is it a thanks for thanking him for his hunting? With Peppy, you never really can tell. ... Though perhaps Aurora can.