Stranded (rated M for possible adult themes)
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September 8th, 2012 (4:57 PM).
North America, generally
The sound of some pokémon roaring roused Devin from the nap he hadn’t known he’d been taking. He briefly considered trying to sort out what happened but decided that the current situation required just a bit more attention. Unsteadily getting to his feet he barked “Frix, Celia, Prowler, to me.” Two of the pokémon appear at his side from where they’d been lounging on the beach but Prowler was nowhere in sight. Silently he cursed to himself but knew that if there was a serious situation he couldn’t wait and that Prowler was likely safe; the little pokémon had demonstrated a number of times that he could be a fearsome foe if he had to be.
Ahead of him he saw the guy he last recalled attempting to introduce himself to running headlong toward the noise. Sighing he hurried after him at his half-paced limping walk with his pokémon keeping an easy lead.
Prowler had heard the sound of vigoroths’ roar but this wasn’t his territory yet, so he decided to leave them be. Continuing on his way he skirted the territory of some larger pokémon, the same as the trail did. The smell of the larger pokémon was enough to make him somewhat skittish, especially since he didn’t know them all. One of said pokémon lumbered out of the forest ahead of him, at first ignoring him and continuing past. However, the large purple pokémon caught sight of him and began making a deep grumbling growl deep in its throat.
Prowler’s first response was to stand his ground and start growling back, a somewhat pitiful gesture next to this spiked monstrosity before him. However hearing his trainer’s call the growlithe settled for a defiant bark and turned and sprinted through the underbrush back to the beach, reluctantly leaving the trail and battle, a deep, satisfied, grumble echoing behind him.
Devin made it into the woods just in time to witness a vigoroth bounding away from some commotion. Somewhat worried he headed toward its source and crashed out of the thick growth and almost headlong into two people, one supporting the other. Frix and Celia had stopped just outside the foliage and were looking at the scene with apprehension. Surveying the situation in a second, Devin saw the red of blood and said the first thing to come to mind, “Saltwater.”
Joined Jul 2012
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