Awkwardly wings were furiously beat, a fruitless attempt at flight only to end it an ungainly scrabbling claws and talons digging at bark to haul an avian onto a low thick branch of the tree. From there the bird shuffled its feathers and immediately set to oreening, self-concious and wary as dark eyes glanced around sharply to ensure that no one else in the forest had seen the pathetic looking struggle to ascend the branch. The flying type in question was, rather unfortunately like most all it's kind, flightless as the rocks which made the second half of it's typing, a sore fact that was often kept hidden by this particular specimen in attempts to bury that embarrassing fact until the day evolution would grant wings strong enough and big enough to lift it to the air.

Yet before that day came she would remain a clumsy poor little archen. For indeed the bright yellow bird, with its red scaled skin and blue wing feathers, it's elongated flexible lizard tail, it's reptilian build and clear avian relations between toothed beak and the clawed hands at the joint of wings, was no other then an archen, a female as well. A rather rare sight she would proudly boast, her kind was almost non-existent. It's because they were special pokemon, they had been among the most fiersome of beasts in a time long before all the other pokémon and now they were only found in fossils, the prime species of a forgotten age.

It was partially true, what she claimed. Archen had long been extinct before humans started bringing them back from fossils, they were an ancient species from a time long before. But they were hardly fantastic pokémon—at least she wasn't, and assuming other Archen weren't drastically different in body structure and anatomy, none of the rest of her kind were. They were awkward cross-breeds between lizards and birds, burdened with stupid wings that couldn't even fly! Perhaps her only saving grace was she was speedy on land, her raptor-like build and long tail helping her keep her balance and remain a fast, agile, runner.

She still wished she could fly though. It would make dealing with other flying types easier, make it so she didn't have to pass off excuses and pretend just so they wouldn't think she was some dull ground-bound laughing stock of a flying type. She wished she could sing and didn't have a raspy lizard voice for the same reason, she had heard murkrow with better voices, and what was a bird that couldn't sing? Obviously if anyone asked she was perpetually plagued with terrible sore throat and illness, surely if she were well she would sing so well they would mistake her for a fletchling or even a swablu. Really she wished for a lot of things she didn't have, and made up a lot of stories about those things. Truth be told, she had almost nothing. She was a hunk of rock brought back to life, escaped into the forest, and more often then not scavenging what she could. A pile of scrappy feathers and scales. Still, she considered as she settled herself more comfortably on the branch, spreading her feathers slightly to bask in the shaft of sunlight that shone on her, still.... No one else had to know that. She made good practice of the art of pretending, it was her trade and her craft. Why be mocked by others for being a defeatist who can't even hold their own and already died off an age ago, boring and forgotten to time, when one can be a revived legend, a dinosaur among modern day who died before time in epic battle with the likes of Tyrantrum, Kabutops, and Aerodactyl? The thing about words was, used correctly, they let you be whatever you wanted. And she was awe inspiring. She was magnificent, the ancestor of all birds and prehistoric raptor of myth. And she still is.

Sounds of another bird landing caught her attention, though she tried not to appear as interested as she was, cracking one eye open halfway. A starly. Perfect, those birds were everywhere, and not the brightest, it would eat up every word she said. Oh how she loved having someone appreciate and believe her. Someone who would see just how good and interesting and amazing she was. She heard them chittering to themselves, a glance confirmed they were looking at her, perplexed by her odd appearance and never having seen an archen before. Few had, it made it easier to build up her species some so they weren't all so... Lame and laughable nobody failures. So forgettable and boring miserable failures.

Yawning, she opened her jaws nice and wide to reveal sharp teeth before blinking open her eyes, pretending to notice him for the first time and ruffling her feathers, a subtle showing off of the finely groomed gold and sapphire spread. She smiled, tilting her head and flicking the tip of her tail, nervous, the starly shuffled her own feathers, tilting her head in kind. Archen spread her wings slightly, a loose gesture, and called out greeting to the other flying type. < Afternoon starly > She called, a warm hiss leaving her throat. The other bird looked hesitant, as thought caught between intimidation and interest at this peculiar creature. < Afternoon, err... > He finally started, then hesitated. < Archen! > She supplied with a pleasant chime, her feathered tail flicking behind her. < Archen...? > His voice returned, doubtful, or perhaps confused, question clear in it as he hesitated before pressing further, his curiousity and bafflement edging him on. < I've never seen an archen around here before, or heard of one. > Was that defensiveness? At least she had his interest though, that was the important part. She pretended to be surprised a moment, her tail snapping as though offended, then let a knowing smile creep onto her beak and settled back again.

< That's a such a shame, though understandable > The archen began, in her head already piecing out what to say, her tone smooth—or at least comparitively though still a reptilian rasp—and confident. < Well, you see... > A calculated pause. < Technically we went extinct. > The starly blinked, the black and white bird now completely befuddled. She had his attention and interest, and she savored in it. < I came from a fossil brought back to life from a time before any of your kind, or any other pokémon currently alive!—even existed. > That was... Probably true. As far as she knew. Though, of course, some smaller mammals and other reptiles, as well as many bug types had a long history... But it wasn't a lie, because she didn't personally know that anything had existed back then beyond other fossil pokémon. The starly was listening, rapt in concentration a moment, and she felt a warm surge at his focus.

Then she felt her heart sink. < Oh. Okay. > Okay? N-no! Not just okay! Alarm went off, the starly shifting from keen interest to sort of shrug, as though saying 'that's cool,' his attention fading now that he had been answered. Was he bored? Was she too boring? She was a living walking fossil! Instinctively she began to continue, to embellish, to add more, trying to get his attention again while hiding her desperation under a cool demeanor. < Yeah, you know, I died millions of years ago. When I was alive this place used to be a barren wasteland full of low lying poisonous gasses and volcanoes. You could barely live out here unless you knew how to fly or were tall enough to avoid the gasses. Of course I lived in the jungle, where the trees and the foliage was so thick it was almost like a perpetual muggy and wet twilight where exotic ancient plants bloomed and animals stalked, flowers spreading as disguised grass types with edged teeth that tried to eat you when you brushed past and massive reptiles bigger then luxray that prowled silently on the jungle floor, their teeth as big as daggers > There was exclamation there, though softly, not trying to make itself too obvious as she wove out the landscape of before. She was making it up, she didn't really remember much more then a scattering of hazy images of a jungle—much lighter, open, and serene then the one she described—and most she was pulling from a book she had once read about fossil pokemon and ancient times. Of course, the jungles and the poisonious wastelands hadn't even existed at the same time, she certainly didn't know what here had been like back then, and she was slightly exaggerating the size of a Tyrantrum's teeth, as well as guessing and making up the fact that it lived in dark ovgrown jungles, but... the starly couldn't know that anyways so what did it matter if it made it sound more interesting? She also was completely making up the carnivorous flower shaped grass types, but they sounded pretty believable right? They could have existed....

The starly seemed interested again though. Slightly... It wasn't enough though, he was fading, drifting. What might have been disbelief crept subtly over his features, yet her first reaction was to press on further instead of let it go, it seemed that once she had made the mistake of explaining she was a fossilized pokémon she had lost his initial interest at being strange and intriguing. < Of course, archen are one of the most fearsome predators of all, we can strike from far above and maintain swift and agile on the ground to surprise and ambush or chase down prey where those bigger slower pokémon couldn't. It was all about cunning, you know, I was a fantastic hunter, sometimes I'd even manage to take down pokémon twice my size or almost twice my level! > She sounded like she was boasting dammit. Cringing internally as she realized her mistake and how bad she sounded, she was still hopeful, watching the starly almost too closely. The bird had look dubious, then briefly interested again, and now firmly settling towards disbelief as she dug herself deeper and deeper into a hole. She started feeling desperate, the look in his eyes was flat, uninterested, even mildly disgusted. Did he think she was lying? She was kind of boasting, and she didn't... Well.... Exactly know that she was a good hunter, or that archen were the best predators... If fact she was a pretty crummy hunter now-a-days and more often scavenged or ended up berry hunting instead after a few fruitless attempts and quickly giving up on expending all the effort, but who was to say she hadn't just.... Lost all her skills while she was a fossil right?

The starly seemed to sigh, his voice even and uninvolved as he mildly gave her a suggestion. < Really? You don't look quite that good a hunter, you seem pretty.... Weak. And awkward, can those scraggly wings even fly? I mean, by all means, I'd love to watch you hunt though > She felt her feathers ruffle and fluff up defensively even as she tried to keep her cool. She couldn't hunt! She couldn't fly! But she couldn't just admit all that! Panicked, she began to fumble and crumble apart, digging for excuses. < I mean, that was a long time ago, dying tends to take the life out of you > Laugh. Her nervous chuckle died off as the starly remained unamused by the joke, and flustered, she kept trying her excuses. < O-of course I can still fly though, I'm just... You know, being revived messes with you a bit. And I would hunt but this is a forest, not a jungle, it's umm... It's a totally different atmosphere and the prey is all different, I'm not used to it... > Petty faltering excuses. Inside she wailed, the starly ruffling his wings. < yeah. Whatever you say. > He turned, bored and tired of listening, and took off. Folding her wings tight and holding them close to her chest, she sank into herself on the branch, hunching down, her tail limp draping behind her towards the ground. Boring. Useless. Just a stupid uninteresting freak. Where had she gone wrong anyways?