Picnicking [[Pokemon Encounter]]

[Faolan]

The sky was warmed graciously by the sun cast high overhead, dispelling the last vestiges of morning fog and cutting rays of warmth through the chilled air. Still frost lingered on the leaves and blades of grass, which crunched faintly underfoot as he made his way to one of the clearings at the base of a large tree. Like usual, Arioche was perched haphazardly on his shoulder with her spindly legs clinging to the fabric of his uniform for support. The cold air was not something she would have preferred, but she kept her thoughts to herself and instead pressed herself closer against the warm skin of her master's neck. It was enough to stave off the inevitable numbing sensation in her abdomen and joints, but not nearly enough to keep her toasty for prolonged periods of time.

From time to time Faolan would slip, catch himself with a low chuckle and continue on his way. They had left at close to the break of dawn and had been out and about on the outskirts of town for a few hours. Arioche had barely had time to run for the door before her master was upon her, plucked her up by one of her back legs and carted her off to keep him company. For a time she'd sat there on his shoulder, sulking and trying to blink away the sleep [she was more of a night pokemon, really] until the cold set in; now most of her efforts were re-directed toward keeping herself warm and eyeballing the inside of Faolan's shirt jealously.

The sloping hill eventually gave way to a flatter sort of terrain that her master had no trouble navigating. Judging from the direction in which he was walking she guessed that their destination was one of the larger, ancient trees looming up ahead in the distance. Several of them were scattered about that looked particularly enticing and for a moment she wondered why Faolan disregarded the ones that were closest and would provide many branches for her to climb onto. This was her master, though, and she knew that a lot of what he did seldom made sense, so she stopped wondering and simply bobbed along gently with his every step.

When they reached the ancient tree Faolan pressed his hand to the trunk and gave her a look that said quite clearly "get off". Their relationship, though strained, was a comfortable one, and instead of climbing up the frosty bark Arioche merely picked at the collar of his shirt and moved to try to burrow herself within it. The twisting pain in the back of her leg as he snatched her up immediately made her regret it and she quickly flailed her limbs in the air to find purchase on the trunk of the tree. Once she had stuck herself to it she gave him a flat look, turned and promptly climbed up into the foliage as he'd instructed.

This day the Pravus grunt had chosen to forgo his usual uniform in favor of jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket to protect himself against the biting winds. He knew he was going to be out here for a while; since it was winter, most of the pokemon in this region seldom came out until the temperature had risen to a rather bearable point, and even then they usually chose to forsake the outside in favor of sleeping in their nice, warm dens.

But this was why he had Arioche.

From the pocket of his jacket he pulled out something wrapped in a bundle of napkins, stained slightly with what looked like... water. Arioche, perched high on a branch and hidden among the leaves, watched with vague curiosity as her master circled the length of the tree several times. When he at last stopped he crouched down to the frost-covered earth and laid the parcel on the ground, then straightened.

A few whole carrots, some broccoli and a cauliflower steamed enticingly on the chilled earth, waiting.

[NPCmod]

Birds flew south for the winter, or at least were intelligent enough to pull their wings out of the cold, and to avoid sitting on frozen branches. Pidgeys in particular were easygoing, conforming birds, who went whichever way the warm wind and flock flowed. That was what the pokedex, or the people who stereotyped Pokemon personalities would tell you. Of course, in every group there is an oddball. Someone who stands out from the crowd, happens to be a bit loopy, and dances to the beat of their own orchestra.

Why else would any self-respecting bird come out in the rain, if not because they were a little different? A little crazy? A little, well idiotic.

Glenn was that type of bird.
--

Whoever had sent the memorandum telling all the other birds to cuddle together for warmth had missed his mailbox. The great and powerful god who had screwed int he other bird's directional compasses had obviously been at lunch when it was Glenn's turn on the assembly line. The bird currently sat ont he branches of a scantily clad tree, wing tips spread so that they gently brushed the tips of two sunny leaves to his sides.
"Brrrr~it's almost as cold as that one time I flew in that freezer."
The nice owner of the shop he had flown into, Bob or Jobe or something, had been nice enough to let him out. The few times he had flown past Barkwish the guy had laughed and pointed, calling him the Ice Pidgey.

Funny funny stuff.
"Hey guys do you remember the time when we---guys?"
Nevermind, those squares had flew the coop a few days ago. It wasn't like Glenn minded being left alone, if they couldn't handly a bit of cold then why would they be his friends.

--

Speaking of friends, where could he get some grub around here? The Caterpies were all snug in their little Metapods, and probably sleeping until midsummer. The Weedles were curled in their little hives, and those Beedrills were a pain in the ass to fight. The berry bushes around here were protected by that asshole of a Rattata, the grumpy old grandma. Where the hell was a poor bird supposed to find food right before winter in a living forest?

It wasn't like christmas, little fat men did not stroll around and pass out gifts of steaming vegetables. That would just be strange.

What was that smell?

Eyes widening, and beak clacking in hunger, the Pidgey dove from his bare branch, and tawny wings spread open under the cold whtie sun. With a single flap of his powerful wing the bird turned toward the smell, or away from it.

A few seconds later he found the smell growing dimmer, and with a chuckle he turned himself around.

The little darling suspected nothing as he landed next to the steaming food. Sharp little pecks began to decimate the food , as the bird began to chat with himself.
"....mmm nice and salty...that's a nice spider in that tree....I wonder if it will snow tomorrow..."
Crazy little thing.

[Eeew..don't ask me what he is ..just strange]