Capítulo 4: Chapter 3 - Clearing

When Arbol awoke, he was in an unfamiliar place: a clearing in a forest, surrounded by mighty dark oaks. Not the berry bush he had fallen asleep in, that's for sure. Tiny sticks littered the clearing, resting tiredly on the soggy grass. A tiny block of wood lay a few meters from him, and settling atop were an assortment of different berries that simply called out to him.

Arbol wearily tested his foot and was pleasantly surprised to find they had somewhat recovered. At least for the most part, the stinge of pain was still a present feeling as he stumbled over to the berries, stomach crying for food.

The sun was high in the sky, scorching the flooding lands like a burning furnace, but Arbol relished its burning feeling on his skin. It was as though springtime had arrived early. It was another reminder that after years in the mines, he had finally attained freedom at last. But as he knelt down beside the pile of perries, blankly detailing each one as to discern which were edible, thoughts began to cloud his mind.

What now? How would he exact his revenge, when? His sister, where was she? Was she even alive at this point? Power was something he needed, but lacked. Yet what could he do to attain such power, Pokemon catching? No way. Special tools were needed for that: A special ball he had occasionally seen his captors flaunting around. A Pokeball.

But as his thoughts wandered and landed on that flame-breathing Pokemon, he couldn't resist the shivers that ran down his spine. Overwhelming. That was how Arbol would describe it. There was no way he would be able to manage a beast like that, even if he had gotten his hands on said Pokeballs.

Popping the sweet berries into his mouth and relishing in their delightful taste, he was able to chase some of the gloomy thoughts away. But a part of him lingered. What now? He asked himself, the berries turning sour. He let another sigh escape his mouth.

His old man always used to sigh like that whenever something went wrong. Whether it was the time they accidentally burned their stack of firewood or when the lock on the Mareep pen was too loose and they escaped, his father's response was always the same. He'd let out a deep sigh, then break into a hearty laugh that made everything seem okay. With a berry in hand, he'd give Arbol one too, munching together until Arbol's tears dried.

At the far edges of the clearing, the crack of a stick caught Arbol's attention, snapping him back to reality. His muscles tensed, head reeling towards the sound like a trigger. There stood a small canine-like Pokemon, black and blue with piercing red eyes that were locked on Arbol, its hands clenching a bundle of sticks and stones. Slowly, gradually, it lifted its foot, eyes never leaving Arbol.

It took a step, then another, slowly inching its way towards Arbol. His eyes widened, then turned down to see the once bountiful stack of berries that he had turned to few, he gulped down a lump of berry-mixed saliva. As the black and blue canine took another step, so did Arbol, slowly shuffling his way away from the remaining berries.

The Pokemon seemed to arch an eyebrow but spoke nothing of it. Reaching the berries, the canine laid its assortment of foliage atop the block of wood, pushing in any that stuck out of the block. The Pokemon, eyes still locked on Arbol, raised a paw in a slow, deliberate wave. Arbol's heart skipped a beat. Its movement, that wave, it was fast, very much so, fast punch, takeout, death. Crap. Escape how?

The canine dropped low to grab something and flung it towards Arbol. He spun around, legs pushing against the ground ready to dash away, when a fragrant ball of aroma rolled past him; a blue Oran berry. Arbol glanced back, confused. The Pokemon just stared at him, then the berry, then at him again.

"Eat...it?" Arbol asked wearily.

The Pokemon nodded intensely, as though understanding his words. He picked the berry and stood, eyes switching from the staring Pokemon to the berry. The color was right, a bright blue, and there were no distinct peculiarities that he could identify... He took a bite, expecting the worst, but what exploded in his mouth was a burst of flavor, juicy and delicious. It was the sweetest berry he'd ever tasted.

The Pokemon grinned joyously.

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Arbol silently observed as the tiny Pokemon stacked sticks inside its little circle of stones. A campfire, he presumed. The little Pokemon was humming a joyous tune as it labored away, skillfully arraying the meticulously placed sticks into place with such ease it surprised Arbol. He sneezed as a gust of cold invaded his skin.

"Ri-Riolu!" It called at Arbol, who was sitting a few meters away, body tense. He walked over in ridged, robotic steps, stopping a meter away from the Riolu, away from striking distance. The Riolu rolled its eyes, then turned to his completed campfire. Beside it lay a huge pile of sticks and lumber, all curiously free of water. Arbol would be surprised to see anything dry, much less lumber, after that disastrous storm.

That meant it had been stored, safeguarded from the rain. He turned to the Riolu, who was carefully drilling a stick into a patch of dry fire-starter. Could a Pokemon be that smart? A wild, untrained Pokemon carefully crafting a campfire and starting one was unheard of, much less taking precautions against nature. It seemed friendly at the moment, but would that last? Pokemon, especially wild, were unpredictable. Rowdy and threatening.

He knew of this Riolu's capabilities. It'd been able to carry bundles of firewood like they were sticks, and had never taken even a moment of rest. What could those arms do to a malnourished little slave?

*fwoom*

The fire starter caught ablaze, licking at the undersides of the sticks, casting a flickering glow upon the Riolu. It turned its head, shiny red eyes amongst the shadows, and flashed its canine teeth. It patted the log beside it, quickly and rapidly, beckoning him to sit. Arbol gulped. The cold night breeze was kicking in, and the frost on his skin was ravenously gobbling up the heat that emanated off the campfire.

The Riolu watched as Arbol shifted, grumbled, backtracked, muttered, and then shuffled towards it, uncomfortably standing next to it, but not sitting. He stared at the Riolu, brows furrowed and heart thumping, as he finally noticed the glint in its eyes. The sole crackle of fire was all that could be heard as the two stared at one another.

Those shiny-red eyes that glinted with intelligence, black sclera that stared back at him. He found them beautiful, and to his shock, relaxing. The Riolu raised his arm, paws open in the form of a handshake, and awaited Arbol's return.

He took it and smiled. "My name's Arbol. Nice to meet you, Riolu." The canine grinned, responding in like, "Riolu!" Under the crackle and glow of fire, the boy finally sat. Handheld with the tiny Pokemon, they watched the iridescent moon carry its course.