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

And so it has finally hit. The blizzard of the century rips and roars outside, bits of ice pounding against the walls, the barn of the Assisi Farm creaking under the stress of a thousand mighty winds. The building's habitants huddle close together in this weather. Those who are not awake, peering wide-eyed at the ceiling, expecting it to come crashing down at any given moment, have slipped into an uneasy sleep, rolling and thrashing anxiously. Some of the older or more brave pokemon comfort their loved ones, assuring them everything's going to be all right, that the blizzard can't last long, that the barn has stood this long and it's not going to crumble now. Peppy, however, is not one of these more helpful pokemon. Lying there on his stomach, insensitive to any touch (whether that touch be from wind, mate, or child), the Growlithe sort of peers ahead blankly, not quite awake, not kind of asleep. His chin rests upon his paws, but he doesn't look particularly comfortable. This shouldn't be much new to Aurora; he's been silent for some days now, and will only say he's hungry or sleepy or something if asked what's wrong. Most of the puppies are asleep, though not even the threat of a blizzard can keep Dakota down. She paces uneasily around, eyes scanning the entirety of the dark barn, wondering where in the world that noise is coming from.

Dakota's uneasiness is somewhat less than her mother's - Aurora has been through storms before, and her memories of them are not happy ones. Still, aside from the occasional whimper as the barn creaks rather loudly, she appears to be calm, keeping watch over Dakota and glancing at the puppies huddled up at her side. Perhaps she's realised that panic, as satisfying or natural as it may be, would not be popular with the rest of the barn's inhabitants... Whatever the reason, Aurora keeps her cool, barking a low, <Come on, Dakota, don't go too far,> when the pup starts to wander a little too much. She's noticed Peppy's silence all right - it's hard not to, as he's usually enthusiastic and full of optimism - but she hasn't asked him about it. There's not been much of an opportunity, what with the preparations for the storm's arrival...

Dakota comes to a stop and glances older her shoulder to glance at her mother, her eyes wide and naive. Without much more than a little "Rth", Dakota rotates around in a wide circle, deliberately moving slowly, almost teasingly. It's unlikely she's mocking her mom; she's simply acting like your usual hyper bored child. The puppy slugs her way back to her parents, her movements exaggerated tenfold. On a normal day, this might have set her father's spirits ablaze even in the midst of a ravaging storm, but Peppy hardly reacts. His eyes lift up off the ground, focus on the stumbling pup, and directs his attention back to the floor. Briska, the pup closest to Peppy, twitches in his sleep, growls slightly, and nestles deeper into his father's side, but the adult Growlithe doesn't even spare him a glance.

The puppy's deliberately slow return makes Aurora smile, and she glances over at Peppy to see his reaction - but, of course, there is none, just as there hasn't been for the last few days. She checks the pups once more, and satisfied that they're sleeping she shoos Dakota with a paw towards an empty spot next to her mother. Briska's sudden twitches get Aurora's attention, and she watches him until he's stopped moving around. Then, with a short sigh, Aurora leans towards Peppy a little, and asks, <What happened? Was it Katerwauls again?> She'll stay in that position, leaning towards Peppy, looking concerned and a little annoyed, until he answers.

The storm outside intensifies. The barn creaks more and more under the force of the raging winds, and the furious onslaught of white specs. The gusts slip through the cracks and holes in the rustic walls, and a swirl of snow and wind dance throughout the room. Peppy exhales his eyes close, the white fur of his cheeks swaying in the breeze. He half considers another coverup, a <I'm just tired> or <Just hungry>, but even he is able to catch the annoyed tint in his mate's tone. A chill runs down his spine. <... I... uh.> His voice is cracked and quiet. He pushes up off the ground slightly, adopting sphinx position. His eyes shift to the side. <... I met a girl... um, the other night. Before the blizzard... uh. It was the night... uh, the one that I didn't bring home a Rattata.> Faint embarassed blush. <... She... made me think.> His eyes go from the wall to the ceiling, but he still doesn't take a glance at Aurora.

Uh oh! The Rockets are scheming! Better save than sorry! (Saving)

A girl? Aurora's ears prick up a little at this, and her tone is a little wary as she asks, <A... human girl? Near the barn?> Well, it's not unheard of... trainers do come down this route, and Peppy probably had to go far to search for prey. The last sentence, however, makes Aurora even more...curious, yes, but also worried. <She made you think... was this like the Ninetales made me think?> she asks, her tone no longer annoyed, but worried and sympathetic. <Do you want to talk to me about it? Maybe I can help.>

Peppy nods slowly as he turns his head back to the female Growlithe, mumbling, <... It was further away... not too close.> The statement about the Ninetales makes him freeze in the middle of his rotation for a moment or two. He now turns to look his mate in the eye, the corners of his mouth folding down into a thoughtful frown. Another chill sprints down the Growlithe's back, and Peppy lowers his chest involuntarily. Down the Growlithe's muzzle goes until his chin touches his chest, and Peppy's eyes are once again on the floor. <Aurora...> he woofs softly, his voice slightly muffled by his position. He moves his head out a bit to give him jaw enough room to move.

Aurora is ready to try to comfort her mate, to offer what advice she can, and to share what wisdom she can muster... but Peppy's rant stops her, her initial conforting barks dying in her throat. How do you explain the meaning of life to a Growlithe? How does a -Growlithe- explain it to a Growlithe? Aurora's brain works furiously (well, as furiously as it can), but her mouth doesn't offer any help apart from a rather delayed, <...Er...> After a good minute or so of deliberations, she sighs, and replies in a whisper, <I don't know.>

Peppy's huffing and puffing comes to a stop. His glaring at the floor comes to a stop. Most of his body process simply cease functioning as Aurora whispers to him. His jaw goes slack, and he stares at the ground blankly for a couple moments before finally, steadily, slowly, hesitantly, turning his head to Aurora. The pained look of disbelief is entirely evident on the pup's face. He's making absolutely no attempts to hide it. <You...> he whimpers softly, his eyes going wide, his jaw closing. The Growlithe lifts his head a bit, blinks twice, and finishes. <... Don't know?> To Peppy, this is like being told that a Pidgey cannot fly, or a Horsea cannot swim. Her reply visibly rocks his world.

Uh oh! The Rockets are scheming! Better save than sorry! (Saving)

Another sigh, and this time Aurora shakes her head. <I... don't know, no. I'm not smart, or strong, and when I'm sad I cry... so how can I tell you how to be something that I'm not?> She looks at Peppy, her gaze not getting to his face but stopping somewhere just above his feet. <I wish I could be as optimistic as you, and as energetic, and not worrying about life because it'll turn out for the best...> Her voice has got louder as she says this, like Peppy's did before, and she shakes her head again and continues more quietly. <I don't know how to do that. And I want to be able to go outside when it's raining and feel safe because even though I'm wet, I can get back to somewhere dry very soon. I still can't do that, and... and I don't think I ever can.>

As Aurora speaks, Peppy's wide-eyed stare becomes less and less intense, his breathing becoming more controlled, the look of horror fading. The wind picks up once more inside the barn as it squeezes through the cracks with more strength than it's displayed all day, and the fur of the two Growlithes bends and dances in the swirling gusts. Though Peppy isn't moving a muscle, it looks like his entire face is alive with life. He doesn't feel the cold, only the sense of the wind itself blowing. <... I don't think you're not smart,> he barks at last, a small smile starting to form. His eyes squint slightly as his own white fur leans into his line of vision. <And you're really strong, too. If you weren't...> For the first time today, Peppy finally turns away from Aurora to look down at young Briska, squeezing tighter into his father as the weather gets colder. <... If you weren't, we wouldn't have five healthy puppies to call our own.> He takes his eyes off of his son, and slowly turns back to his mate, the wind still ruffling his fur.

Aurora looks at the pups as Peppy speaks, and winces a little as his mention of the puppies - and her having to be strong - brings back one certain memory that she'd evidently rather not recall. As she looks at the pup, though, another memory makes her smile, and she looks up at Peppy with amusement in her eyes. <And if you weren't strong, we wouldn't have had freshly hunted food almost every day over the winter,> she replies. <You're stronger than you think you are, Peppy. And it takes a smart Growlithe to hunt that well.> Almost impulsively, she leans over a little further, to try to nuzzle Peppy's cheek. Whether he lets her, or whether he moves away, she'll add in a low affectionate growl, <And you're strongest and smartest when you're cheerful. That's what I like about you.>

After Aurora starts to speak, Peppy opens his mouth to talk, presumable to interrupt with a comment. What she says, however, leaves him speechless, so his mouth remains open dumbly as she compliments him. The word 'strong' causes him to flicker his eyes away from his mate, and the word 'smart' invokes a light blush under his white fur. He's thinking up a reply, no doubt destined to be filled with stutters and stammers, half-intelligible gibberish, when Aurora surprises him with a nuzzle to the cheek. His eyes automatically close, and he rubs his own cheek against the female as well, returning her loving growl. He's looking into her eyes when she speaks next. He blinks once or twice, inhales deeply, and responds softly. <... Really? ... Strongest... and smartest?> Slight hesitation. Peppy's bright green eyes twinkle in the passing snow, and his paw makes a small sound as he scratches it upon the wood, bringing it closer to his body. <... You always know how to make me feel better, don't you?>

Uh oh! The Rockets are scheming! Better save than sorry! (Saving)