The scenery was so beautiful that Avery was a little bummed that Cujo couldn’t see it.

The young pup didn’t seem to mind too much – though Avery had refrained from commenting on how lovely and pretty everything looked, just in case – and seemed quite enthralled with the fallen leaves and the way they crackled and crunched beneath his large paws. In the time they’d spent waiting, much of his time had been spent pouncing through leaf piles and running around the relatively-flat area. An outsider looking in wouldn’t have even suspected the Houndour’s disability had they seen him darting and lunging around like a normal pup.

”Man, look at how quick you are! If you keep that up, whoever winds up facing you isn’t even gonna know where to start!” the ginger called out, flashing a broad, crooked grin towards his starter. Cujo skidded to a rather unceremonious halt in a flurry of red, orange, and yellow, flop-earred head whipping around to stare curiously at the general area where Avery stood. He wasn’t sure if Avery was just trying to make him feel better or not, but he offered a hopeful wag of his tail nevertheless.

+You really think so?+ he asked, canting his head far enough to one side that an ear flopped over his face.

”Oh, shit, definitely. They’re already gonna be surprised by how cute you are, they won’t expect you to be a speed demon too. I bet you Kickstart will be surprised when you kick his little fluffy butt, too,” Avery affirmed, smirking as he imagined the look on Mike’s face if he and Cujo managed to beat him. Cujo looked a little less confident at that – Kickstart was quite the spirited little guy, and Cujo wasn’t sure he’d want to beat him in a fight even given the chance. That didn’t seem like the friendly sort of thing to do, after all.

A sharp whistle drew his attention again, and Avery grinned wider as he saw the Houndour’s attention snap back to him. He was beginning to get some ideas about potential strategies to battle using the Houndour – though he didn’t exactly have the time to practice or run through them before this battle. ”Yo. So, I was thinking – after this, we come up with some sorta system with… uh. Whistles, or sounds, or something like that. For battling, y’know?”

The Houndour looked a little wary, but Avery could see his ears pricking just slightly, as though he were curious despite his misgivings. ”It’d take a bit of work, but, like. We could come up with whistle combos for attacking and dodging based on the enemy’s location. Easier’n sayin’ ‘dodge to the left!’, and less obvious, too. … And once we get the hang of it, it wouldn’t be hard to do.”

+That, uh, sounds like a lot of work. B-but if you think it could work…+ He wasn’t going to become too hopeful, but it sounded promising, at least.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Calla’s arrival tossed a wrench into discussing any more ideas for the time being. Cujo noticed before Avery, surprisingly enough – at the first sound of feet upon fallen leaves, his head swiveled, ears pricking up as he ‘glanced’ in the direction of the newcomers. His tail offered a tentative wag, and he yipped out a cheerful little, +O-oh, hello!+

Avery turned, offering a casual grin and a wave to the approaching man and the little Dark-typed cat that moved beside him. Purrloin were pretty cool – though Avery was definitely more a dog person than a cat person – and he found himself growing steadily more excited about the prospect of battling. As far as things went, there was a lot worse that Cujo could have had as a first battle opponent than a little cat.

“Yo!” he offered as the Purrloin drew closer – the little cat seemed to be on a mission, however, and bounded nimbly over to Cujo, apparently eager to play. The Houndour had a momentary flash of panic at the sound of something rapidly approaching in the leaves, and at the subsequent feeling of an unfamiliar, fluffy head butting against his flank. His fluffy fur bristled and he offered a sharp little yelp of surprise at the intrusion to his personal space, one sturdy front leg coming up automatically to get between himself and the stranger as he stumbled back. The movement was a little rougher than he’d anticipated, unfortunately – a sort of Sucker Punch, intentional or not. If he wound up actually clocking the poor cat by some misfortune, he’d probably feel rather guilty about it.

+H-hey, watch it!+ he growled as he backed up a little more, shooting a fierce little glare in the direction he presumed the other Pokemon to be. Avery winced a little, feeling a touch guilty for both not warning Cujo and for the Purrloin possibly getting blindsided by a big fluffy paw. This wasn’t how he’d intended his first battle to begin, but Cujo seemed to have made the first move, whether he’d meant to or not.





((849 words, oop. Cujo is startled and… accidentally starts the battle, apparently. w hoops. Egg thread for avery’s mareep and natu! ))

Cujo flinched a bit as he felt his paw connect with soft fur and flesh, a little whine sounding in his throat – a pang of guilt immediately went through him, and he considered telling Avery that maybe he wasn’t really cut out for his ‘battling’ business after all. Somehow, he’d managed to attack without even meaning to, and he was pretty sure that was a terribly rude thing to do. The little fire dog backed away a few more paces, fur fluffed up and eyes glancing warily around – never directly at the cat, but in that general direction.

+I—I-I’m sorry, I just…+ He cut off, feeling a bit wretched. Was the cat crying? The Houndour’s long tail drooped, and he cast an uncertain glance back towards Avery, ears wilting. The ginger squinted for a moment before offering what he hoped was a reassuring, ”It’s alright, Jo – you just got surprised, that’s all.” The hound didn’t look convinced, and glanced uneasily towards the source of a new noise – an approaching trainer, perhaps.

Avery took a moment to glance his opponent over, brows arching curiously as he listened to the attempt at ‘scolding’ he gave to the young cat. It was actually pretty decent – Avery wasn’t sure he’d have been able to explain it in such a way – and he flashed a little grin at Calla, pleased that he seemed like a relatively inoffensive dude. He could have just as easily come over to bitch Avery out about his Pokemon smacking a kitten in the face, so Avery considered him pretty decent for not going that route.

The kitten seemed to become cheerful surprisingly quickly – Cujo envied his ability to forgive so easily – and the hound tensed up as he felt a paw swipe playfully at his fur, though he managed to stop himself from striking out this time again. Sightless eyes turned to leer warily at the kitten, but he attempted a friendly smile, even as his voice quivered slightly. +Er. T-thank you, I think.+ The canine looked as flustered as he always did when someone complimented him, as though he was never quite used to hearing such positivities.

Avery glanced back to Calla, inclining his head politely and flashing another grin. “Yo. Avery, and, uh, Cujo – don’t worry, he’s a lot less menacing than his namesake.” His gaze traveled to the playful little cat, and he hummed at the request, feeling a bit sympathetic. Technically, it was Cujo’s first real fight as well. Avery wasn’t sure he’d have had the balls to request something like someone taking it easy on him, but he could certainly understand the other man’s sentiment. ”It’s Jo’s first time, too, technically – we’re just trying to figure out the basics and get some moves down, honestly.” He cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward as he added, ”Jo’s blind, so we’re mostly interested in coming up with strategies right now, I think.”

The other trainer switched his attention back to the Purrloin, and Avery directed his to Cujo in kind, listening to the words the trainer offered. He made a mental note that a series of whistles would have another advantage, too – unless the opponent was very observant, it’d be hard for them to really predict what he was going to do.

”Right! Uh, brace yourself, Jo,” he muttered hastily, backtracking himself to match Calla’s swift retreat. The hound tensed up uncertainly, planting his paws into the leaves and offering a quiet little growl. It seemed wrong to order him to dodge after he’d kind of blindsided Shadowpaw – and, besides, Avery was banking on that fluffy coat adding a bit of protection against the cat’s claws.

Cujo was expecting serious, substantial pain, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited tensely for the blow. When it connected, it certainly stung, but not nearly as much as he’d feared. The kitten’s claws still weren’t as developed as they could have been, and most of the blow seemed to graze through his pelt without really causing damage. The canine wasn’t aware of the fortunate, natural defense his mother’s long fur had given him – albeit at the expense of natural fire immunity – but, in that moment, he was grateful for the ridiculous amount of fluff he had.

Avery looked relieved as Cujo didn’t seem too injured. He’d been momentarily distracted by the strange, cheesy pose his opponent had taken up – really, what kind of message was that supposed to send? – and had torn his gaze from the battle. He refocused almost immediately. ”Alright! You know where he is, so go for an Ember!” It brought back memories of nearly setting Mike’s room on fire – Ember was typically a ranged move, but the farther away an enemy was, the harder it’d likely be for Cujo to probably aim. At such a close range, perhaps he’d have less trouble.

The hound had to concentrate for a long moment to build up the flame and fire within his maw – heat rolled in his throat and condensed, and he savored the warm feeling for a moment before unleashing a single, rather unimpressive fireball at the spot the Purrloin had struck from. Like the kitten’s Scratch, it wasn’t a very impressive move – though fire was flashier, at least – and it suffered from the same lack of practice and experience. At least it was fire, and not just smoke, right?

Avery grinned, pleased whether the attack landed or not; the filmmaker took a moment to glance over the eggs in his own bag – one large and cream-colored, the other smaller, but much more vibrant. He wasn’t entirely sure what was in them, but he’d been desperate to at least catch up to Mike’s apparent Pokemon-catching craze.



((952 words. egg thread for mareep and natu! ))