Scarlet hues gazed around the quiet clearing for the seemingly hundredth or even thousandth time. A meadow, a completely different environment compared to the never-ending winter of Mount Silver had greeted him when he woke up which was strange--he did not leave the mountain. He couldn’t. Not with a trainer missing because of him.
A soft sigh escaped as he continued to flip through his notebook, chin tucked in to rest on his Pikachu’s head. The pokemon had situated itself comfortably between his shirt and his torso, a habit it had done while the pokemon were in the freezing temperatures of the mountain. It seemed to be reading his the messily scrawled writing along with him.
He had gotten into the habit of sketching, or writing notes about the places he had been, but there was no place like this in it. Clearly he was not in Kanto anymore, but there was no logical reason why he ended up here. He had fallen asleep in his usual campsite after an unsuccessful search for the female trainer, and woke up in a field of grass with a swinub crawling over him in search of berries.
Gloved digits continued to flip through the old book as his red gaze skimmed every page, drawing and doodle he had done. The thing that soon broke him out of his trance was when he heard his Pikachu’s excited cry. The twitching ears of the pokemon grazed his cheek softly, as the mouse pokemon jumped out of his shirt, before breaking into a dash between the trees.
His book was stuffed back into his bag, before he stumbled up and jogged to keep up, catching sight of the electric type’s triangular tail vanishing between the bushes. His ears picked up an excited gasp before a sigh escaped.
Had his Pikachu tackled someone by mistake?
