Identifying the human in the photo ID, the police officer in the nearby station is at least able to register your transition as to maintain continuity. Nothing is left by the time a Forest Ranger investigates the site you escaped from. No evidence remains, but you aren’t satisfied with dropping everything.
Spending funds with your savings found in your wallet, you return back to the forest that you came from. With a portable tent and food for 2 weeks in a knapsack on your more than capable shoulders, you decide to spend the time that you need to wait for the outfit to turn itself off.
Unfortunately, only 3 things register in your mind with the lost box:
SURVIVAL ONLY POSSIBLE WITH THIS
OPERATE OUTFIT FOR 2 WEEKS TIME
DO NOT LOSE YOURSELF TO CHANGES
Keeping these facts in the back of your mind, you set yourself off by the nearby river, hoping that your portable tent is something that would persuade these evil no good people to think twice before coming here. A force of nature is watching these woods.
The first few nights you spend it very nicely, without a soul being found at a small hill you sit upon, under the shade of some big trees. Most of your time is found here, enjoying the calming bird calls that caw overhead.
One with nature, you warm up to the idea of letting your hybrid self feel fancy free.
A few hours in each day, you find yourself walking barefoot, taking gentle runs as arching feet feel much more comfortable in the strides. By nightfall, you slip back into your footwear, still feeling very fitting to rest flat feet on them. A small exhale of an Ember is enough to release a fire to set up camp each night, and keep a relaxing crackle of flame on a bed of twigs.
It’s day three post transformation, and you find yourself walking along the forest path, trekking to use the facilities of the nature reserve for a bubbly shower and freshening up. The cawing of Pidgey and Spearow, usually competing Pokemon bird species, herald your return towards your campsite.
A feeling of wanting to be free and barefoot doesn’t quite suit you as being a good idea. Not yet while you’re grinning and chipper being clean in the forest. Later in the day you can run wild and see what fish Pokemon are around to relax with. The time to yourself feels like a long vacation having been settled in. Being one with the wildlife is a comfort you never experienced before.
Closer you draw towards your camp for a few steps, but a smell makes your large ears twitch. Something smells like an intruder. The aroma of alcohol twitches your button nose.
Gritting your teeth in anger, you wonder who could be stupid enough to go to your stuff and try to steal what is yours. Is it a poacher? Not in these protected lands with Pokemon Park Rangers patrolling the area since your part-time capture. Would those nefarious people that brought you to that icy grave be that brazen to return? See reason above.
Whatever may be over there, you clench your little hands as tightly as you can, and run as fast as your Vulpix hybrid legs can carry you. The sandals are great for evening out your weight to your pads, having fit their form a little better by walking for miles in them. Steps bring up bits of grass flying with each frantic rapid step, bringing any creeping Caterpie, the caterpillar pokemon, to retreat low, not knowing why a scary fire type is on the warpath. You stop moving as soon as you find a rather round butt of some man, crouched on all fours as they are past the doors of your tent.
“Buuuuuuh,” out comes the slurred voice of a drunk, shaking his head at the mountain of non-perishable food at one corner of your tent, and cleaning supplies in another corner. Your wallet, bearing your photo ID as the reminder of your former humanity is on another. An air mattress with a pillow and a blanket sits in the middle, with the wild one looking disappointed with his hands on the end of it. “Noooothing to wet my whistle…”
Written by PoKeHybridTrainer on 05 October 2021