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

The sun shines overhead, bracketed by puffy fair weather clouds.

Aurora has connected.

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry. In the forest, the wind rustles the bright green leaves of trees and bushes and carries Oddish 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 pleasant spring sky.

A port in a storm, a home away from home. We're (saved)!

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.

It's a gloomy, sad day near the Assisi Farm today. It's not that the weather is dismal and grey; as a matter of fact, it's a warm, sunny day, and it's quickly becoming more dry outside; the humidity finds itself dispelled by the constant winds and the rays of the sun. To most pokemon on the island, it's a wonderful day to explore, to travel, to be alive! For the Growlithe family in that rundown barn off of Route 11, however, it's not quite the picture-perfect day others perceive it as. The smallest one in the family, little Dusk, has fallen prey to some sickness or spell, and her weakness has drained upon the entire family. The father has barely budged from his spot overlooking her, having budged barely two or three times in the past two days. The fruits of his labor, two half-eaten Rattata corpses, lay strewed across the wooden floor, but Peppy hasn't exactly had the heart to touch them. Has he even been so silent for so long?

The weather's good, there's no rain, and by all rights it should be a wonderful day for Growlithe parents and their pups. It does seem at first that some of them are having a good time - three of the pups are playing in a knocked-over bale of hay, taking it in turns to hide in the straw and pop up to surprise the other - but the frequent glances they cast at their father, and the little figure curled up near him, show their concern for their sister. Even Flame, resting in his claimed corner of the barn after eating, looks at her occasionally, his expression slightly concerned, though not overly worried. And as for her mother... she's doing just about as well as her mate, except that she hasn't left the barn at all, and has thus been watching over Dusk for almost all of her waking hours. The worry is starting to show on her face, and almost every sound Dusk makes - every whimper, every laboured breath, every sneeze - makes her flinch a little, the louder ones causing her to whisper to Peppy, <How do you think she's doing?> or <That doesn't sound as bad as it did yesterday...>. Most often, though, the sounds make her whimper a little in sympathy.

Peppy does reply to everything Aurora says, though more often it's simply with a slow headshake, a growl in the back of his throat, or a very soft <I don't know>. There have been a few times in Peppy's life when he felt entirely helpless, and this is one of those times. How can she be right there in front of him, so close that he can touch her with his nose or paw, and yet not be able to do anything, anything at all for her? The Growlithe's tail swishes back and forth at a slow pace, a way for the dog to release his pent up nervousness without getting up off his haunches - after all, his face is reserved for fatherly concern, worry, and maybe even a little anger. At one point, Peppy's tail stops wagging, and he lifts his head a little higher in the air to regard Aurora for a moment. His eyes squint slightly. <Aurora,> he woofs, his voice cracked and quiet. <When was the last time you were sick?>

Dusk whimpers and twitches a little, causing Aurora to murmur worriedly for a moment before replying to Peppy's question. <The last time I was sick... I was still with my trainer, Karen. She bought me some food, and the meat was bad, and some time after I ate it I felt a bit dizzy, then the food came back up again. I felt like that for a day or two, but after that I was okay.> She pauses, looks back at Dusk who's still snoozing fitfully, and then adds softly, <Before that, there was the time my first trainer left me in the woods. The nurse who took care of me said it took me three weeks to get better.>

Spotting a little movement out of the corner of his eye, Peppy quickly snaps his sight down to the wriggling form of the puppy, and the frown on his face becomes even deeper. He's obviously in pain over his daughter, and it burns on him from the inside. He squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head slightly, and turns to Aurora. Opening his eyes, he sighs softly, though does, to his credit, do his best to give his mate a little smile at her reply. <Three weeks?> he asks, his cheeks scrunching up slightly at the words. He's picked up that a week is seven days, but seven times three? No way he can figure that out, especially not in the distressed state he's in now. All he knows is that three weeks is a long, long time for an impatient Growlithe. <... Was it really bad? ... Like...> He tilts his head down slightly, a light gesture to Dusk. <... This bad? I've... never been sick, not as far as I can remember. I don't know what it feels like.>

Shaking her head, Aurora smiles a little, the first time she's done this for a while. <She didn't get soaked through, like I did, and she's been somewhere safe and warm for a long time, so she should be better soon.> The puppy in question whimpers slightly more loudly, and her forepaws twitch as she continues to doze. Peppy's comment after his question makes his mate nod a little, and she adds, <It's good that you haven't been sick. It means that the pups aren't likely to get sick, either, so hopefully Dusk will get better soon, and...> Her voice trails off as another thought apparently strikes her, and she quickly turns her head to look at the other pups, frowning as she inspects them from where she's sitting. <No, it wouldn't happen...> she mutters to herself as the group of three continue to play quietly, and Flame peers at her with curiosity.

A port in a storm, a home away from home. We're (saved)!

Peppy's first reply is quiet - very quiet, Aurora may have to strain to hear it. Looking down at his puppy once more, the Growlithe breathes a depressed growl, and whispers, <I hope so.> Peppy remains still for a few moments longer, before raising his head to glance at Aurora. He tilts his head to the side slightly, as though he doesn't quite follow her. What wouldn't happen? He opens his mouth to ask, but by the time he does, he's already figured it out. He also turns his head to scan the barn for the four active puppies, the frown still sticking on his face. <... Patch got sick once.> He woofs this with some interest, as though this is somehow something significant to his life. <She said it was... from... some other person, or something. He was sick, and because she went near him, she got sick, too.> He swallows heavily and clenches his teeth, peering at Aurora with a kind of helpless submission, a plea for her to figure out what he cannot. <... Do you think the same might happen to us? ... Or worse, to them?> The thought sends a visibly chill up Peppy's spine. Having one sick kid is enough; having five would be too much.

Once again, Aurora shakes her head, replying vehemently, <No. They won't get sick, I know. You've always been well, and I've hardly ever been sick at all...> She looks over at the other puppies once more, and then down at Dusk, before shifting herself a little closer to the poorly puppy. <One of us should keep watch on her all the time, make sure that she's not too bad,> she muses, as she turns to keep Dusk in her sight. <We should also tell the others that she's not feeling well, and that they can help by not going too near her - she'll want to play when she gets better, but while she's ill they shouldn't play with her otherwise they could get sick, too.> Aurora sighs, then smiles resignedly. <I hope she'll be able to play with them soon. She'll be wanting to do that before she's well enough, I bet...>

Even with the thought of having five sick puppies at his paws lingering in the back of his mind, Peppy can't help but grin out of the side of his mouth at his mate's comment. At least one of them isn't content to sit here and moan. Aurora's strength wins Peppy over again. Usually her statements would be met with a kind of flowing nod, a 'You-must-be-right' agreement, but not this time. Instead of affirming Aurora's statement and once again marveling at her intelligence, Peppy takes an active and definite response. <Yes!> he exclaims, his voice hurried and excited. <We have to tell them really soon, like right now, you want me or you or both of us to tell them right now? Aurora, I really...> He shakes his head vigorously. <Really, really don't think... don't know what I'd do if... if all of them were... like... this.> The pokemon can only shrug as best as a four-legged animal can, his gaze dripping down to glance at Dusk's pained form.

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.

Aurora's strong, confident words don't exactly match her current body language - she's leaning protectively towards Dusk, the little puppy's body curled up close to her mother's side, but a short distance away so that Dusk doesn't end up kicking her mother when she twitches in her sleep. Still, at Peppy's words, she pauses, swallows and then says quietly, <I'll tell them. They've already realised that she's not going to play with them, but I should probably tell them why. I don't get sick easily - my last illness was because the meat I ate was old and rotten - so I shouldn't make them sick.> As she looks up, the slightly-open door catches her eye, and she sighs a little. <We won't be able to show them how to hunt for a while, not until Dusk is better...>

Peppy nods slowly though his head is declined slightly. He closes his eyes softly, his head bobbling slightly up and down, up and down, like an old man sitting on a park bench drifting off into sleep. <I fear for her and them, though... Dakota or Karen might get curious and come over here to see what's wrong with her or ask her to play. Flame might... well, he might want to tease her while she's vulnerable. And Briska...> His name causes a tiny little snort to escape from Peppy's black nose, and his eyes open up, bright and green if not slightly watery. <He must be so... so scared for her... he'll want to come over here and try to nuzzle her and talk to her and help her back to health... like a good little guy, he cares for her so much...> And with that, Peppy clamps his mouth shut. His body tenses, though he trembles very, very slightly, almost too slightly for Aurora to detect - but, then, she just may. It's like the prelude to tears, but no matter what it feels like inside, Peppy just knows inside that he's not going to cry.

Maybe he's not trying to make his mate cry, but Peppy's certainly managing fairly well at it... when Aurora replies to him, her voice suggests that she's holding back tears, as well. <But at least if we tell them that she's ill, and the best way that they can help is by playing quietly and eating well, and letting us care for her... then they should understand.> She nods a little in confirmation of her own words, then looks at Peppy questioningly, asking, <Does that make sense? Should I tell them that?> It's not so much uncertainty, as a need for reassurance that she's saying the right thing.

A port in a storm, a home away from home. We're (saved)!

If Peppy was, indeed, planning on sobbing for himself, the moment he hears Aurora's tone of voice, the idea dissipates into the air. Look, he's making her sad. What kind of mate would do something like that? Peppy's claws grip the wood beneath him as best as they can, clutching down hard. He's got to be strong. He's -got- to be strong. <Tell them that,> he asserts, turning his head to Aurora and nodding at her, carrying an aura of (albiet forced) certainty. <They'll understand. They're smart puppies, and they don't want to hurt Dusk. Not even Flame.> He peers up at his forehead for a second, then at the ceiling, before nodding in reply to his own comment. Yep, that's what he thinks. He hesitates for a second, directs his eyes toward Aurora, and grins very slightly. <I think she'll be all right.> Whether he actually does or not isn't clear from his tone of voice, but even if he isn't, he's definitely doing his best to comfort his mate... and that must count for something, right?

Aurora nods as Peppy agrees with her, and then smiles in relief at his <I think she'll be all right.> She replies, <She will,> and though her tone of voice isn't entirely certain, it's worth something that she's sure enough to say it out loud. <Well...> She gets to her feet, and glances at the other puppies - Flame has been watching his parents and sister with interest, and the other three pups have reached a lull in their game. With a little gulp, and a nod, Aurora pads over towards the pups, heading for a spot near the wall mid-way between the two groups of puppies. <Flame, Briska, Dakota, Karen, I've got something to tell you,> she says, loudly enough that they can all hear, as she pads over to the wall.

Peppy simply nods his head slightly as Aurora stands up, though he does watch her as she walks away. He continues to regard her until she starts to speak to the puppies, during which he turns back to Dusk. She seems to have settled in a semi-comfortable sleep; at least she's not thrashing and kicking as much as she was. <Oh, Dusk...> the Growlithe mumbles under his breath to himself, his head going limp on his shoulders as he leans forward slightly. <You'd better make be okay, not just for you or me, but for all of us...> And, giving off a final sigh, Peppy's stance erects, and he continues the same stance he's adopted for the past few days, sitting in silence.