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- The suburbs, and no I don't need to describe much
- Seen Dec 21, 2015
Tavil bolted through the forest. He maneuvered around trees as if he knew the location of every single one. He was moving at "Extreme Speed" a technique that he had learned over the years, and had served him well. Because of the sheer velocity of his movement, his vision was limited to directly in front. All his peripheral vision was being pulled behind him like a vacuum. To the untrained eye Tavil was only a beautiful golden glimmer in apearing only for a second, then vanishing.
Despite his ridiculous (quasi dangerous) speed, wich was still increasing Tavil showed no hesitance in his fiery eyes. No, this shiny Arcanine would not stop for anything. He would not let his treacherous pursuers find the satisfaction of holding his hide. He would not let it happen, not like it happened to his mom.
After minutes of running Tavil slid to a less than graceful stop. He knew his pursuers could not be near. He had at least ran a couple of miles while traveling at extreme speed. He hadn't found anything yet (human, pokemon or machine) that could best his speed when preforming that ability.
Tavil desperately looked around for shelter. He knew if he did not want to come encounter with the wicked men again he would surely have to find a good place to hide (or at least stay dry because storm clouds were coming in). His piercing red eyes beamed back and forth, scanning his surroundings for anything.
Finally he spotted a hollowed trunk on the other side of a clearing. He swiftly moved across the clearing, and strode toward the trunk in a cautious fashion. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, beside the fact that it was completely hollow. Wurmple larvae must of had feast thought Tavil to himself. After a few last sniffs, and inspections of the make-shift shelter he put one paw in.
"SNAP!" Searing pain shot up Tavil's front left leg. Nothing prepared him for that so he fell over in pain. He started to howl in agony.
Tavil decided to glance down to inspect the thing clamped on his foot. It was a small bear trap. They were usually used by poachers to trap Tediursa and small Ursarings. Tavil growled ferociously watching blood trickle down from his leg. He knew something was suspicious about the perfect hollowness of the tree. It was a trap created by the scum of the earth, poachers. Rain started to poor down on him everywhere except for his leg wich was still inside the trap shelter. Tavil kept growling to keep his mind of the searing pain, bu t couldn't help thinking of amputation........................................
Despite his ridiculous (quasi dangerous) speed, wich was still increasing Tavil showed no hesitance in his fiery eyes. No, this shiny Arcanine would not stop for anything. He would not let his treacherous pursuers find the satisfaction of holding his hide. He would not let it happen, not like it happened to his mom.
After minutes of running Tavil slid to a less than graceful stop. He knew his pursuers could not be near. He had at least ran a couple of miles while traveling at extreme speed. He hadn't found anything yet (human, pokemon or machine) that could best his speed when preforming that ability.
Tavil desperately looked around for shelter. He knew if he did not want to come encounter with the wicked men again he would surely have to find a good place to hide (or at least stay dry because storm clouds were coming in). His piercing red eyes beamed back and forth, scanning his surroundings for anything.
Finally he spotted a hollowed trunk on the other side of a clearing. He swiftly moved across the clearing, and strode toward the trunk in a cautious fashion. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, beside the fact that it was completely hollow. Wurmple larvae must of had feast thought Tavil to himself. After a few last sniffs, and inspections of the make-shift shelter he put one paw in.
"SNAP!" Searing pain shot up Tavil's front left leg. Nothing prepared him for that so he fell over in pain. He started to howl in agony.
Tavil decided to glance down to inspect the thing clamped on his foot. It was a small bear trap. They were usually used by poachers to trap Tediursa and small Ursarings. Tavil growled ferociously watching blood trickle down from his leg. He knew something was suspicious about the perfect hollowness of the tree. It was a trap created by the scum of the earth, poachers. Rain started to poor down on him everywhere except for his leg wich was still inside the trap shelter. Tavil kept growling to keep his mind of the searing pain, bu t couldn't help thinking of amputation........................................