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

Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still. In the forest, only the nearest tree branches 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.

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

Another gloomy, foggy day. Days like this are the worst; at least one can see through the rain, and snow just takes a quick Flamethrower and its gone. Misty days stifle the senses of smell and sound, and to march through the fog is to walk blindfolded when you're a colorblind Growlithe. That's precisely why Peppy's decided it's way better to stay inside. It must have been a little better during the peak hours of the sunlight, for the dog (somehow) managed to get himself a Rattata for his pack, and a few bits of wet meat still adhere tightly to the bones of the ribcage. The humid, stuffy weather has taken enough of a toll on most of the Growlithe family in the corner of the Assisi Barn, and four of the five puppies are snuggled up close to their mother, snoozing away. Flame sleeps, as well, though with his side pressed against the wall. Peppy can hardly even blink, let alone sleep; lying there on his stomach, chin rested on his front paws, the pokemon stares ahead at the far wall blankly, a purely disinterested look on his face. Somebody's got insomnia.

Ghostly, wet days like these are perfect. Absolutely perfect (for draining the life out of a fire-type, that is). The still, humid air soaks into the fur, and prey is scarce, or hard to find-- they too, wish to stay in on a day like this. So it's quite odd to see, in the distance, a lone figure trudging along the road they call Route 11, stopping every so often to sniff the air, only to continue along just as promptly. And- uh oh. He's heading towards Assisi. Nearing the barn, he pauses to shake himself free of moisture, before finally stepping in through the barn doors. The Vulpix looks around the shelter-- nearly everything is intact, from the straw, the leaks in the roof, right down to the scorch-marks on the walls. Soon enough, his eye catches sight of Peppy, and he sighs, before pacing forward almost-reluctantly.

The moment Peppy's green eyes detect movement in the barn, they shift to the newcomer. The barn, even at night when all of its citizens come home, is almost empty, save for a family of Pidgeys with a newborn, the returned Sandslash, and a couple more pokemon speckled across the room. They've all come home for the day; nothing else -should- be coming in. Peppy's ears prick as his awareness heightens, though his entire body jolts up when he realizes who the new pokemon is. Whoa. Panic floods Peppy's mind, and the Growlithe does what comes naturally - stands up, assuming a wobbly, clumsy stance. His mouth stumbles to form words. <Y... you, uh.. aren't... uh, aren't you... that...> He'll shut up once Navarone starts marching towards him, and, if the Vulpix walks even closer, take a kind of poor-looking defensive stance. He really doesn't know what he's doing; he's entirely overwhelmed.

And walk towards him, the Vulpix does. Swishing his six tails behind him, he rustles the straw underneath, clearly betraying his location and his presence to anyone in the room. His one eye, though lacking the ability to focus, bears down own Peppy's own pair of eyes, locking them. Navarone watches as the pup tries to piece together a sentence, and as he gets closer, crouch with his tail raised. The Vulpix snickers. <I doubt this is the kind of welcome you give a friend, no?>, Navarone asks, his query dripping with sarcasm. <You can stop being so paranoid now. I'm not here to--> It is with these words that the Vulpix tries to remember what Peppy might be acting this way for. Did he threaten him? No, that couldn't be it. Shortly after arriving to his conclusion that the puppy pokemon is simply being defensive of his family, he speaks. <Whatever it is you think I'm gonna do, that's not what I intend right now.> So bluntly does he put it, it's only someone like Peppy who could have made it any more blunt.

Though that little tacked on "<right now>" does admittedly make Peppy a little iffy, the frigid Growlithe loosens up slightly after Navarone speaks. Now that he's more comfortable about taking his eyes off of the Vulpix, he turns to his mate and children, then back to Navarone. When they're not wide with surprise, Peppy's eyes hang, and it's pretty easy to see that he's not sleeping as well as he's used to. He stretches his limbs back up to locking position, ascending to full height from his crouch. Despite how off-guard Navarone caught him, he does his best to stand tall in the face of potential danger, and, keeping his eyes on the Vulpix's one, woofs, with a trusting nod, <I didn't think you were.> Is he lying? Or being truthful? He's not as readable as a pop-up picture book now. How 'bout that. <But then why are you here?> Slight pause. <Just... want a place to stay or something?> His discomfort is apparent, but he doesn't speak like a scared chihuahua. That's gotta count for something.

The Vulpix nods in reply. Is it me, or has Peppy gained a point of IQ or two? <That would be correct, yes>, he answers in response to Pep's last question. And the reason is quite obvious. The Vulpix looks bedraggled, his fur coat now damp from the fog, and his form doesn't exactly brim with health. What would, with a body as thin as that? <But that's not what I intended, primarily. Truth is...> And here, his head starts to bow and hang low, and his voice softens a fair bit. <.. I wanted to apologize, for the other day. I have no business going around, talking like that, but sometimes that's just how I feel.> He pauses his speech, only to rest his haunches on the ground. <And these days, it's just about the only thing that I can feel.> He turns his head away from Pep, leaving the Growlithe to stare at the unseeing side of his face.

An extra IQ point would make him about twice as smart; that's probably too big a stretch. Peppy doesn't respond to Navarone's first comment verbally. He only looks over the Vulpix, the frown on his face bit by bit getting heavier. The thought to comment on the Vulpix's disheveled, rag-doll body hits Peppy's mind - multiple times, in fact - but somehow the Growlithe manages to keep his big mouth shut. Navarone's apology manages to invoke something more of a reaction out of Peppy, and, raising his head slightly, the pup regards his friend from a higher position. <Maybe I was wrong, too,> he woofs, now plunking down on his rump, tail low, ears collapsed. <There have been times when I'm really not happy and don't want to talk, and I think you were like that, but then I kept trying to talk and wouldn't leave you alone. I'm sorry I did that.> Peppy lowers his head submissively, peering over at Navarone with those speckled green eyes. He's pretty good at looking apologetic.

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

As Navarone listens to his friend speak, the unsettled frown on his face slowly disappears and is replaced with a smile. Somehow the Vulpix is touched. <You should stop blaming yourself for things you didn't do, Pep.>, he replies, turning his head back, and walking past him to lay himself down in a more comfortable pile of straw. <You might end up like me, if you don't.>, he adds, his voice wistful, whispering more to himself than anyone else. He sets himself down on some patted straw, and face the pup once more. A cold shiver sends the Vulpix shaking like a leaf in a brisk wind, and he curls himself up in response. <Y'know... they're growing up quite well.>, he adds, almost absently looking at the near full-grown pups, sleeping beside their mother. He plays with the straw, sniffs it, and then looks around. <Been a while since I've come here..>

Everything is pale grey, veiled by mist. It's warm, humid, and still.

Peppy is silent after Navarone speaks, but instead of the usual blank, vapid look on his face, he appears to be actually thinking. Stop the presses. <We've been keeping good care of them, Aurora and me,> Peppy replies to the Vulpix, and though his voice carries an aura of fatherly pride, it doesn't seem to be what's on his mind mostly now. <We...> He breaks for a moment here to regard the six sleeping puppies, even the little loner Flame. <... Love them as much as we love each other.> Swish, swish, swish goes the tail. Peppy swallows heavily here, presumably to avoid getting choked up - for all his ambition to be a tough, protective mate, he really is a sensitive little guy under that furry exterior. Possibly to avoid having to go too far into detail about his family, lest he start sobbing right in front of the matchmaker himself, he heads off on another tangent. <But, um... it wasn't... I wasn't blaming myself wrongly. My... uh, my trainer... once she had said something to her friend that I didn't understand, but she explained it. It... uh... it takes... something about taking two... two somethings...> He shakes his head vigorously. <That's not important. But what it really meant was that when something goes bad between two pokemon, it's never only the fault of one. The other had to have some part, even if it was a lot smaller than the other. I think this is like that.>

Kind, reassuring words, yes; yet they fail to achieve the desired effect on the Vulpix. If anything, Navarone simply droops his head further, the Growlithe's words having an opposite effect on him. <... Never only the fault of one..>, he repeats to himself, before sighing and lifting his head again. He tries his best to smile at the Growlithe, a weak, fragile little grin. <Thanks for the words, anyways.> His almost halfhearted tone of voice suggests that, to him, they are little more than what they are-- words. Words that pierce through him like arrows. He continues to stare at the straw in front of him, pawing it every so often, playing with it like he had little else to do. He manages a soft sigh, then looks back at Peppy. <It matters little whose fault it was-- whoever caused it, I'm sorry for what happened. Though I don't think you should... I suppose you want to apologize too.> There's that weak smile again. <I doubt I could do much to stop you, anyway.> He ends his speech, and turns his head to stare at the walls; or in more detail, the scorch-marks on the walls. And you know what that means.

Peppy didn't necessarily mean for his words to have some awe inspiring, standing ovation responses. He didn't even think of what he was saying as particularly intelligent or helpful. Nevertheless, however, he did expect Navarone to draw something from it, and to his dismay, he seems to have not. Still, Peppy's pity for Navarone overcomes his disappointment, and his next words have no sad tinge to them. <It's okay,> he arfs, a small smile coming onto his face. It's not a very cheerful, happy smile, but it still shows that the Growlithe is showing some care. He leans forward slightly, sneaking a quick peek at the other canines before turning back to Navarone, as though Aurora and the kids shouldn't hear what he's about to say. <Just... don't... try not to bring her back up.> Erecting his stance once again, his voice raises a tad. <Besides, I have a feeling I'll see her again, and we'll learn something from each other. Until then I'd rather pretend she doesn't exist.> But his words aren't harsh or mean - they're more light, more friendly, as if he and Navarone are in on a little inside joke.

Staring at the marks on the walls, Navarone can feel the memories pouring back into him-- something he generally wants to avoid, and as such, he quickly turns away back to Peppy. <I'll try.>, he yips in response, <Though I can't make promises. She's more than just someone I know, now.> As he speaks, there's a fierce light in his eyes, brimming with anger. And just as quickly, they settle back into back into those sad little pools of opal-brown. He looks on at Pep, quite surprised at his cheerful attitude, his happy-go-lucky manner, simply brushing off the topic of the Ninetales as if she hadn't been brought up at all. <... I find it strange. All this time, she kept telling me how much you hate her, and here I am, listening to how optimistic you are about her.>, he prattles on. <She thinks that you hate her. Maybe it's just her, but I think that maybe.. maybe, she wants to be hated. Wants to be alone.> The Vulpix shakes his head. <But how can that be...> If someone doesn't stop him, he'll go on all night.

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

Peppy isn't one to stop a rambling conversation buddy, as he tends to dislike it when others interrupt his ever-so-important comments. <Maybe it's not that she doesn't want to be alone,> barks Peppy. <Maybe it's just that she's looking for the right pokemon to be with.> He shrugs his shoulders as best as a four legged pokemon can, not giving Navarone a chance to reply before moving right into his next comment. <Though I do hate her... I think. I don't think I could ever not hate anybody who... threatened the lives of... of...> Peppy has slowly turned his upper torso to regard his family, and he squints slightly as his conversation quiets down, so quiet that, if Navarone cares to hear, he might have to struggle a bit closer. <... Of her. ... Them. They're... more important to me... than anything in the world. Including me. And anything that would...> The Growlithe sighs heavily here, shaking his head and turning back to Navarone. He looks at the Vulpix for a moment, canting his head very slightly, before grinning, his puffy white-furred cheeks expanding. <... Maybe you don't know what I mean. But... well, perhaps she's changed, or grown, or perhaps what happened won't happened again. I don't know her like you do.>

The misty light dims slightly.

'Looking for the right pokemon to be with.' There's something about those words that trigger something inside the firefox, but he has a hard time figuring out what. Curious as he is to ask Peppy what he means, he doesn't interrupt the pup as he goes on. As he goes on about his family, Navarone too, looks at Peppy's mate and their children, serene and content looks on their faces as they sleep. And who wouldn't want to protect that? <I can understand that they mean a lot to you. I mean, I'd feel the same, in that situation.> A sigh. <It's not like she's giving us much of a choice in the matter...> The manner of which he speaks almost sounds like he was talking to himself rather than addressing both of them. When Peppy brings up the fact that Navarone knows Streetwind a lot better than he does, he blinks a little. <I doubt she's changed. She's still pretty much the same, since I first saw her. I don't know what you think of her, but I've gotten very little out of trying to talk to her. She doesn't exactly open up very easily, but I understand why. It makes her vulnerable.> He stares at the walls again. <It's the only thing she doesn't want to be.>

Peppy smiles a little further, turning his head to look not at Navarone, not at Aurora, but at himself. His side, his stripes, his orangish-red fur that appears a drab grey in his eyes, his slowly wagging tail. <But sometimes you don't think somebody's changed, when they really have. Or maybe you've changed, and so you understand the other pokemon better.> Swish, swish, swish goes his tail. Peppy doesn't even seem to be struggling with trying to keep his appearance of looking tough up; his near majestic stance seems to come almost naturally, now that he's not intimidated by the Vulpix. <Sometimes I think you have to be... uh, vulnerable.> His furry face scrunches up in a look of puzzlement, and he peers up at the ceiling, combing his brain for the definition. <That means... like, weak, right? Like... sometimes it means you trust somebody so much you don't have to be on guard, so they could really hurt you if they wanted to but they wouldn't because you're friends?> That doesn't seem to clear much up for the pup. <Does that mean she doesn't want to be anybody's friend? I guess Aurora's made me really vulnerable, but I'm not scared of her because I know she wouldn't do anything to me. Why is Streetwind scared of it?> He's naive, all right, but his words might have a tinge of truth in them.

Everything is grey, veiled by darkening twilit mist. It's still, warm, and the air feels damp.

In a direct contrast to Peppy's proud stance, Navarone looks outright pathetic. Curled up into a little orange fuzzball on the straw, his eyes are sorrowful and almost longing for something, and his undernourished form doesn't help much. It makes sense for the pup to be so optimistic, and for the Vulpix, otherwise. <I feel... I feel that I do understand her a bit better, and maybe that's because I've changed a little,>, he comments, and follows up with a whisper. <.. but I'm scared of what I'm changing into.> Peppy's words do make him think a little-- a rare occasion, if anything. <I think that I made her vulnerable once. She let her guard down, and she trusted me to protect her. Only I didn't.> He sighs heavily, and despite himself, he can't resist his memories. <I betrayed her, with promises that I couldn't keep. And now she hates me for it.> He shuts his eyes tight, as if to hold back tears, and simply lets his head hang low.

Twilight deepens the grey of the fog.

And Peppy has found Navarone right on his own plane. Fears about inability to protect someone they trust and know! Letting somebody down! Feeling like they're not strong enough! A little chip comes off of Peppy's soul, and for the first time tonight, he is silent because he has nothing to say. He can speak it just fine when he doesn't feel it, but when he's met with the problem himself he buckles, or so it seems. Navarone will have a good half a minute to struggle with those tears before the Growlithe maps out what to say. <Don't cry. Don't cry!> It's most likely too late for that, but even if Navarone's no longer peering at the ground, Peppy will take a step or two towards him, shutting the gap between them into almost nothing. The larger pokemon will attempt to put his nose right under the Vulpix's muzzle, lifting it up until Navarone is at eye level with the Growlithe. And Peppy will just smile a little - not a lot, just a tad. <Believe me, if you cry, that just makes you feel even weaker.> Oh, yeah, that's totally from experience. <I think it means something if you tried. I mean, it's not like you and her are like me a....> And Peppy just stops. He just freezes, his cold wet nose jammed into the bottom of Navarone's muzzle. And he just blinks at the one-eyed Vulpix, as though some shocking thought has just manifested into his head. <... Are you..?>

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

Within those shut eyes of his, Navarone tries to hold back the tide. He can't help feeling so useless, and so helpless to change it, at the same time. Wasn't he the one who preached about hope to the likes of Streetwind? And here he is, losing hope by the minute. Immediately, everything comes back to him, rushing past the broken walls of his defense. Painful, surging memories; swirling, like a black hole waiting to swallow him up. It's not his tears that he's trying to hold back, no-- he's trying to defend the last scraps of hope he has. But even that has fallen to the dregs, swallowed by rememberance. Touch. The Vulpix's eye opens, wet and yet not teary, and the brilliant opal stares ahead at Peppy, who suddenly barks at him. Cry? Admittedly, he acknowledges that he felt like crying-- but that would do little in a situation like this, just as Peppy said. Just as Peppy tries to reassure him, he suddenly manifests a strange query, and the Vulpix blinks stupidly for a few seconds before he lifts his head right off, turning away. He flickers his ears to hide their blushing embarrassment. <N-n-no.. I d-d-don't think w-we...>

And Peppy just continues staring, like Navarone has a giant bug crawling across his face. The thought process has come together, the obvious has been revealed, the relationship that's been right in front of Peppy's eyes for months finally shows its other tint. And Peppy doesn't know if this is a good thing or not. <You... -love- Streetwind?> His words are harsh and rash, like an honest, rude little child absolutely baffled by the prospect. He doesn't mean to sound hurtful, but it will likely come across as though Peppy is horrified by this incredible, unbelievable prospect. And the more he thinks about it, the more he (thinks he) knows the answer to the question! The obvious becomes more obvious, obvious enough for Peppy's mind to see! Peppy staggers back, breaking the touch between him and the other fire type. He immediately whirls to the side, peering at the wooden floor like it's coming to life. Yes, he's being an ignorant and disrespectful little guy. He's too overwhelmed to notice.

Fog and darkness shroud the world.

Cue the bouncy cheerful music. The Vulpix is redder than a rose right now, and his muzzle shows everything there is to see. The Vulpix shuffles his paws absent-mindedly, and lets everything, his head, his ears, his tails; hang low. As soon as Peppy brings up the obvious question, he raises his head, and abruptly shouts, <T-that's not t-t-t-t-tr.....> He can't bring himself to say 'true', and he suddenly finds himself doubtful. Does he? But she tried to kill him! /Twice/! The fact that Peppy is acting like a jerk doesn't seem to elicit a response from the pup, not in the least-- he himself is quite shocked by the fact that he may have feelings for the Ninetales. Navarone finds it as unbelievable as Peppy does. His doubt begins to pile on.. Does he love her?

After the phrase "He loves her!" has stopped throbbing in Peppy's head and he can actually look at Navarone without shying away and shaking his head in disbelief, the Growlithe adjusts his stance to face the Vulpix with more ease. He's still shaking his head slowly. <A lot of things make sense now. You... j...> And it's only just now that Peppy realizes just how Navarone is looking, how awful he must feel - and above all, how terrible that jittery, nervous feeling inside that Peppy himself experienced daily for *weeks* must feel. Suddenly he feels very, very bad. Extremely guilty. <... Oh. ... Um, I'm sorry.> The more he thinks about it, the worse he feels. Downward spiral. <... I didn't mean to.... um, make you... feel bad, or anything. It just... shocked me, I didn't... mean...> Peppy flushes behind his white-furred cheeks.

Nothing that the pup says will have any likely effect on the Vulpix. His eyes are practically stretched wide open in disbelief at the possibility that he might be falling in love with someone that tried to kill him. He shakes his head. That couldn't, not in any way, be true. It's crazy. He's supposed to hate her for that-- and despite it, he still went out to comfort her in her time of need. The Vulpix is getting awfully confused here, as his mind juggles between two possibilities-- does he love her, or not? He switches between the two, on and off, and after what seems to be an eternity, he just falls flat on the ground and sighs deeply. He doesn't seem to recognize the fact that Peppy is extremely sorry about this-- he's much to shocked and disturbed by this newfound discovery to take any notice. He might as well grab a daisy and pluck petals.

Great, he's not replying. After Navarone went through all this trouble to come back to the barn to apologize, this is how Peppy repays him? By acting all horrified? Bit by bit, Peppy's droops down to the ground, his paws sliding out from under him at a slow, constant rate, until his white-furred tummy lines the floor. He nestles into a more comfortable position, pulling in his paws and settling his head on his front ones. One last try. <I'm sorry...> he whimpers, his condition overall droopy, from ear to tail. And though he tries, really tries to stay awake long enough to hear Navarone speak, he just might not be able to last that long; he's fading quickly and suddenly.

No longer quite so overwhelmed by this possibility, the Vulpix soon mimics the puppy and settles himself down on the straw. His ears twitch every so often, and his tails swish about vibrantly; somewhat of a paradox, given the Vulpix's current state. Navarone just stares ahead, his gaze quite blank, and pointed towards nothing in particular. Peppy's words reach his ears, and though he might not be able to understand why he's apologizing, he answers back, a somewhat unemphatic <I forgive you.> Meanwhile, his mind is still quite mixed up over all that's happened. After what Peppy suggested, things might not be the same after all. Obviously, this great amount of thinking takes its toll on the firefox, and Navarone bends his head, leaning on his forepaws, closing his eyes. <G'night, Pep.>, he manages to whisper, before quietly dozing off. It's most likely that he'll be dreaming of you-know-who, but will they be dreams or nightmares? Only time will tell.

And maybe it's Navarone's forgiveness that comforts him. Or maybe it's just that he's had a big week. Or maybe he's simply chickening out of the duty of trying to comfort Navarone when he's petrified with the strange thought that Peppy himself is considering. Whatever the case, anything after "<I forgive you>" becomes null and void, as the Growlithe is asleep before he even realizes it. His cheek is jammed hard into his paw, but for some reason is doesn't look like he's uncomfortable. His breathing rate is slow and steady, and every couple minutes he twitches or whispers some intelligable word, lost in a dream. And is it a dream about Aurora? Or his puppies? Or is he, too, remembering Streetwind, if not in a different light than Navarone? Will these dreams be remembered upon awakening? True enough, only time will tell.