Pride really was something else. Oh, he’d heard about it, of course, seen the photos online, watched the videos and all that, but it was a world of difference from seeing something and experiencing it. There was almost too much colour, a riotous, living kaleidoscope of people, moving and dancing and winding about the streets like a rainbow that has fragmented into a million pieces of colour and come to life. The sheer variety on display was fantastic, with every conceivable form of outfit, costume, pokemon...He’d sat on a bench and just...Watched the stream pass him by, soaking in the spectacle and just appreciating the whole thing, one hand on Valia and the other arm curled about the two eggs that he’d acquired earlier in the day.



What impressed him most about the whole event, though, was the energy. The atmosphere of the festival was almost a magical thing. The sheer vibrancy of it was a factor, yes, but you could find vivacity like that in most big festivals and events. What set this apart was the sense of community, the celebration of being different, of love, of including each other. It was really something else. Admittedly, he felt a little bit like a spare part, given his orientation and the fairly subdued hues of his outfit - the navies, blacks, dark blues and greys he typically favoured made him feel like a pigeon stuck in a field of peacocks, parrots and birds of paradise, even with the gleaming bronze he incorporated into his getup.



Still, that was all down to him feeling like an intruder, and nothing to do with the celebrants present. Everyone he’d spoken to or encountered had been pleasant, if not outright delightful. He sat back, resting against the unyielding, faded wood of the bench, and breathed out a soft sigh. He needed to relax. Not just about his being here, but in general. The trip over here, being in a new region with no support network, the anxiety he was feeling about his starter and whether he’d actually be a decent trainer or not were all adding up.



Eventually, he gathered the two eggs to his chest and pushed himself to his feet, uttered a soft “C’mon.” to Valia, and set off with the aim of finding something to help out with carrying his newfound wards, if nothing else.



As he wandered, amber eyes scanning the many stalls for a bag or something one could put an egg in, he wondered if he was putting the cart before the Mudsdale. He technically had three pokemon before he’d even gotten his official starter, which was...Unusual, to say the least. Granted, odds are that the eggs wouldn’t hatch by the time he made his way to the Ranger Station, but still. What if they wouldn’t give him one because he’d unintentionally broken some sort of rule?



He sighed. He was supposed to be relaxing, not winding himself up even further with new worries. He gave himself a little shake, trying in vain to loosen up the muscle in his neck and shoulders, which were approaching levels of stiffness that he’d vaguely begun to wonder if they’d metamorphosed into steel cables, and stepped up to one of the stalls which had an abundance of colourful bags for sale.



He glanced down at the eggs in his hands, frowning faintly. It’d be tricky to juggle both of them and a wallet, unless...He turned to a young woman with hair a lovely shade of red and asked, softspoken yet pleasant, ”Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but would you mind holding one of these eggs for me while I nab a bag to store them in?”