"It’s nice out today, isn’t it?"
An unusual smile graces his expression today. The sun’s out, but it’s not too hot, not too sticky, not too stifling— perfect. It’s the sort of warmth that comfortably seeps through his skin, and he likes it. Everything’s far less stressful when you’re not busy running an organization. The streets were quiet here, the shops were nice, and although not his beloved Johto, it was a pretty close resemblance.
As he lets out a sigh, the blue bat above him screeches, flitting around erratically, which causes him to glance up and halt in step.
"Hmm, Zubat, what’s wrong?"
And before he could acquire some sort of response, something bumps against the back of his head, knocking his hat from his head and forcing it overboard. Hands instinctively reach to catch his hat against his chest, but when it tumbles forth into his hands, bottom up, there’s something strange inside that wasn’t there before.
He instantly mutters some expletives under his breath, but that fades away as he examines the unexpected addition curled up in his hat. Outlined against the black background of the fabric, a small, white bat peers back up at him, fluffy tufts of soft, snowy fur lining its neck. It blinks at him with bright blue eyes, though he simply stares back. His bat returns to sit on his shoulder, joining its owner in staring the new creature.
He turns on his heel, looking for the animal’s owner, only to spot a man hurriedly running towards him, a black bat of a similar nature flying over his head, and he’d be lying to say that his heart didn’t sink a little.
❝Excuse me, I seemed to notice that a bat came your direction, did you manage to catch it for me?❞
Upon hearing the stranger’s question, however, he grows defensive. "Look, I didn’t catch it for you," he snaps. "It just flew into my hat, that’s all." Who did this man think he was? Some sort of king? what do you mean he actually is
But nonetheless, he allows the white, winged animal to leave the circular confines of his hat, and, now empty, the accessory quickly resumes its usual spot atop his head. He folds his arms across his chest, a dissatisfied expression— almost a sneer— on his face, looking the man over.
"Really, you should keep better track of your animals."
