Learning to Fly
Chapter 8: Flowers and Rain
A Clover Guild Story
By Ribombee-anon
Previous part: https://rentry.org/RibombeeFly7
My partner continued to be my beacon of hope, and her undying encouragement gave me the strength to push onward. Over the next several weeks of training, I continued with my new diet, exercise, and meditation (both with KFC and in my own spare time). The Combusken was a wonderful teacher, providing plenty of advice and answering all my questions and concerns. My body grew stronger and my mind sharper each day. I increased the variety of exercises and the number of reps I performed, and diligent meditation let me more consistently see Aura.
That was a reward in and of itself. It was fascinating to witness these little clouds of energy hidden inside everyone, gently swirling like mist and flickering like rainbow fire. Sneasel teased me for staring at her or other Pokemon when I sensed their energy, but she was proud of my progress, and she enjoyed hearing me describe what I saw. Out of curiosity, she often asked what her Aura currently looked like, and I’d scan it for her. This was good practice for me, and helped me get more familiar with my partner’s Aura.
However, my training was not without its pitfalls. For one thing, I wished I was improving faster. I remembered KFC’s warning that I couldn’t rush this, and it would take a while until I could balance my Aura, but that didn’t make it much easier to bear—especially because I felt like I wasn’t being useful enough for Sneasel. I usually helped her by managing our items, giving her advice, and keeping an eye out for enemies, but I wanted to aid her in a more direct way. At one point, I even tried building a little slingshot to do that. Sadly, that plan didn’t work very well, so I gave up on it and refocused my efforts on training.
One other problem was that my anxiety never left me. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, no matter how much encouragement Sneasel gave me, nothing could ease my fears regarding the new instincts creeping into my mind. I still heard that competitive voice in my head whenever I worked out, tempting me to keep pushing myself beyond what was reasonable. My inability to enjoy my old favorite foods continued to disappoint me whenever mealtimes came around. Rainy days always made nervousness well up inside, in sharp contrast to how I used to feel about them. And the worst was yet to come.
* * *
It began with the unlikeliest of subjects: flowers. I never much cared for them as a human, but ever since becoming a Ribombee, I’d felt drawn to them—probably because this species used them for food and helped pollinate them. This attraction grew more powerful alongside my other instincts as I continued training. I found it easier to accept this change compared to the rest, though, since it seemed to have no downsides. The beautiful colors, myriad shapes, and pleasant scents of flowers were a valuable source of happiness in these troubled times.
In particular, I loved visiting florists. Browsing their inventory and basking in the warm glow of the blossoms’ gentle Auras was therapeutic for me. Sneasel constantly derided flowers as girly and lame, but for my sake, she almost always brought me to the shops when I asked, and she never once mocked me for liking flowers. Sometimes I even convinced her to let me buy something to decorate our dorm. That said, she always hid our purchase in her belt pouches or made me hold it, so nobody would think she was interested in flowers. She had a reputation to think of, as she often reminded me.
One day, Sneasel and I went out to run errands in town, and we stopped by a florist to buy a few pansies for the dorm. The petals reached half my size in diameter, and were colored in a striking contrast of purple near the center and yellow near the edge, with a thin band of white between them. Sneasel put most of them in her right belt pouch and let me hold one while I rode atop her head. I held the comparatively giant flower to my face and examined it closely, letting my antennae automatically tilt toward it to take in the soft fragrance.
After some time, I was snapped out of my reverie by a youthful girl’s voice saying, “Um... excuse me, miss?”
Sneasel turned her head, and me with it. We were about to pass a bulky Croconaw with a little Helioptile clinging to his back. She was peeking over his shoulder to smile at us.
Sneasel pointed a claw at her chest. “You talking to me?” she asked.
Helioptile shook her head, and I realized her big blue eyes were focused on me. “No, the little girl on your head. That flower you’ve got is super pretty! I like it!”
Well, it was nice to meet someone else who shared my—
Wait—little girl?
In an instant, the enjoyment I derived from my flower broke apart, and my heart sank. I had been mistaken for a girl multiple times before—which was unsurprising given the small and dainty appearance of my new body—but it still made me feel hot with humiliation. And this time, I felt even worse. It was a sudden reminder of how different I was now, and the way I’d been struggling to adapt to my new identity.
Helioptile was oblivious to my plight. “Isn’t her flower pretty, Daddy?” she asked, reaching up to tug on one of Croconaw’s protruding fangs.
“Y-yes, it is,” he said with a wince. He smiled at us and added, “Say, looking at that badge, aren’t you two with that new guild? Do you think you could help my wife with her garden? I hear Ribombee are good with plants, and she could always use a helping hand—especially if it’s a lady’s touch.”
Embarrassed, I shied away behind my pansy, while Sneasel snorted and tried not to laugh. “Alright, I’m gonna have to stop you two,” she said. “My partner’s a dude.”
Croconaw’s eyes widened. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize!”
“Don’t get worked up over it. You two ain’t the first to make that mistake. But I’m sure Booker appreciates the apology—right, partner?”
I knew she was encouraging me to speak up, but all I could do was meekly nod at the father and daughter before us, while still taking shelter behind my flower. Sneasel’s notched ear twitched beside me, waiting in vain for me to say something.
“We’ll, he ain’t much of a talker,” Sneasel said with a shrug. “Me and him usually do missions in dungeons, but I guess he could help out with your garden sometime.”
“Nice. I can visit your guildhall tomorrow to talk it over,” said Croconaw. “Thank you both. And sorry again, Ribombee.”
I nodded, and Sneasel resumed walking, leaving the pair behind.
“Thanks for that,” I murmured. “S-sorry you had to speak for me. I should have said something...”
“No problem,” said Sneasel. “I got your back. But next time this sorta thing happens, I want you to try speaking up.”
“That’s fair,” I said, although part of me was nervous about the concept. I wished I could just let my partner handle the talking, but I knew it would be wrong for me to be a burden and rely on her for everything.
“I dunno why people keep calling you a cute little girl,” Sneasel said. “You’re the roughest, toughest Pokemon in town. You’d give an Aggron a run for his money.”
She chuckled at her own joke, but I was less amused. As I looked at the pansy in my hands, I noticed it didn’t bring me the same happiness it had mere minutes ago. Helioptile’s innocent comment made me think about my image, and one thing was painfully obvious: if I wanted to be seen as less feminine, these pretty little blossoms were not helping.
I sighed in frustration. I’d believed my admiration of flora had no downsides, making it the one new Pokemon instinct that didn’t hurt me, but I was wrong. In reality, it was exacerbating my recurring troubles with people mistaking my identity. Even flowers were decaying into a source of stress, like a once-vibrant bloom now rotting away and crumbling into dust.
“You okay?” Sneasel asked me. “I heard that sigh.”
“I’m just... thinking,” I said. “Sneasel, c-can you put this flower in your pouch with the others? I, uh... don’t feel like holding it anymore.”
My partner hesitated, but she didn’t question me. She reached up and let me transfer my pansy to her claws, and she stored it away with the rest.
It would have been nice to go right back to the guildhall so I could be sheltered and alone, and hide my shame from the world. Unfortunately, we still had more to do in town. So, I sat alone atop Sneasel’s head, struggling to clear my mind of these newly-arisen self-conscious fears.
* * *
As we walked down a mostly-empty backroad winding between the towering tree buildings of Capim, Sneasel abruptly stopped walking.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “What is it?”
“That voice... It’s HER again.”
Sneasel turned around and pointed. I followed her claw with my eyes. In the distance, flying a couple stories above the ground, was a Taillow. As she came closer, I noticed she had a bag on a string around her neck and a large red flower clutched in her talons. I normally would have enjoyed getting to see a new blossom, but right now, it only reminded me of my humiliating encounter with the Helioptile and her father.
The Taillow was tweeting melodiously as she banked left and right over the road, gradually approaching us. She called out and greeted us, and I recognized her voice. This Taillow had been the client for my first dungeon job—and more importantly, she was the one who let me ride on her back as she flew about a month or so ago. Although that time nearly ended in a fatal accident due to her mistake, flying and skydiving with her had been one of the most incredible things I’d ever experienced. As such, I wasn’t unhappy to see her again.
I wanted to smile and wave at her. But for some reason, as she swooped down among the buildings and approached us, my body began to lock up. I felt like a deer in the headlights. Against my will, I could do nothing but stare at the incoming Pokemon. No, not just any Pokemon—a bird. A gigantic bird, twice my size, with a sharp beak and sharper talons, swiftly diving at me, ready to—
An involuntary, strangled squeak of terror slipped out of me. I broke free of my paralysis and curled up on Sneasel’s head, covering my head with my arms and clamping my eyes shut. I immediately felt a pressure descend on me. I feared for a moment that it was the bird seizing me in her talons, but there was no pain. I peeked with one eye and realized one of Sneasel’s hands had covered me up protectively.
“Back off!” Sneasel yelled at the bird.
“H-hey, take it easy!” I heard Taillow cry. “I was just shopping, and I spotted you guys, so I wanted to say hi! That’s all!”
Peeking out from under Sneasel’s palm, I saw her raise her other hand. Small shards of ice began floating around her claws. I couldn’t see Taillow with my partner’s hand in the way, but I knew Sneasel was taking aim, more than ready to knock the bird out of the air.
“Get outta my sight!” Sneasel shouted at her. “You’re scaring my partner!”
Taillow stammered. I heard her choking up. “O-okay. I get it...” she said quietly. “He doesn’t wanna see me anymore, after I screwed up last time. That makes sense. I don’t blame him. I made a huge mistake, didn’t I? I still really regret that, honestly. I was hoping we could still be friends and talk again, but... if you’re still scared of what happened, I understand. I’ll... I’ll go now. I’m so sorry, Booker.”
Her gloomy tone and words felt like a knife in my heart. I could sense the chill of her sadness through the heat of Sneasel’s anger below me. All this negativity hurt so much. I couldn’t let things stay like this. It wasn’t just a desire—it was a need, an obligation to make everyone feel better. But fear still gripped my heart, and I couldn’t bring myself to speak. All I could do was weakly squirm under Sneasel’s hand as she kept me pinned down. I heard the flapping of wings, and by the time Sneasel released me, Taillow was just a dark speck in the morning sky.
“She’s gone,” Sneasel said as she resumed walking. “Sheesh, this town’s just full of idiots today. You good, partner?”
I barely heard Sneasel. This wasn’t right. I didn’t want Taillow to leave. I thought we were on good terms, and we’d moved past the disastrous last meeting we had. I shouldn’t have reacted like I did, but the mere sight of her was enough to terrify me. And now that she was gone, my heart ached. It was practically a physical pain, more than just regular regret. What was happening?
I took a deep, shaky breath. “C-can you put me in your pouch?” I asked Sneasel in a weak voice. “I just... want to be alone for a bit.”
“Sure thing,” she said. “Gotta calm down after seeing that birdbrain again, huh?”
I didn’t have the energy to correct her. She plucked me off her head and placed me inside the belt pouch on her right hip, opposite the pouch with all our flowers. It was devoid of items now, since we weren’t on a mission. I nestled in the leathery bottom as Sneasel closed the flap and resumed walking.
This dark and quiet spot was a good place to ponder my troubles. First of all, the way I succumbed to panic when I saw Taillow was bizarre. I hadn’t overreacted during the two previous times I’d interacted with her. It must have been caused by something new—and when I thought that, my mind instantly went to my current predicament with instincts. Was there a reason this new form would be afraid of her?
Then it hit me, like a falcon diving onto its prey: I was a bug, and Taillow was a bird, and birds ate bugs. It was such a simple explanation, and yet I hated it because it sounded so stupidly fearful. I’d been in this world for over two months, and never once had I heard of a civilized Pokemon devouring another one. Sneasel had eaten meat, true, but she never killed another person for it. It was always either obtained from certain kinds of feral Pokemon or from civilized Pokemon who could painlessly drop and regrew flesh, like Slowpoke and Veluza. I was in absolutely no danger of being eaten by Taillow, but despite this, I still felt scared. Maybe it was an ancestral fear ingrained in this body’s memory, like how Zangoose and Seviper had developed an instinctive hatred for each other. As for why I only felt this fear now, it must have activated recently as I continued to adapt to my new form. Yet another example of my mind derailing...
There was one snag with this theory: I had no problem with the handful of avians in the guild. Then again, I saw them almost every day, and my mind must have subconsciously decided they were no threat. Taillow was a different case. I hadn’t seen her for weeks, and despite her cheerful and friendly attitude, I still didn’t know her very well.
Having solved that mystery, the other confusing part was this heartache I felt. Why couldn’t I keep my mind off Taillow’s melancholy and regret? I’d always been the kind of person to feel sympathy for others, but this was too much. I bet it was another instinctive response originating from my new body, but I wasn’t sure if that was true—and if so, why would it work that way? Why would a Ribombee become so bothered when someone else was upset?
My best idea was that Aura had something to do with it. Reading Aura let me sense emotions, so maybe Taillow’s strong feelings had rubbed off on me and essentially poisoned my mind. I could ask KFC about it later, but for now, I tried and failed to ignore my worries as I rode along in the pouch.
* * *
Back at the guildhall, I met with KFC, who was doing some extra training in the dojo. He was happy to talk with me (in private, at my request). He did think my theory was reasonable, although he didn’t know enough about Ribombee to confirm it. For the time being, he suggested I find ways to distract myself until the stress wore off.
That was easier said than done. Taillow’s sad face kept flickering in my mind for the rest of the day. Sneasel noticed I was still upset, but she assumed I was simply rattled by bumping into the Pokemon who almost got me killed a while ago. I felt too glum to bother correcting her. But as we got ready for bed, I felt a strong urge to get it off my chest. I finally confessed the truth, as well as my theory for why I was still feeling down.
Sneasel nodded silently. “I should’ve known you ain’t the kinda guy to hold a grudge,” she said. “Of course you already forgave the chatterbox... I’m sorry for chasing her off, then. I didn’t know how you really felt. But I hate her, and I noticed you were getting all scared when she showed up, so I assumed the worst, y’know? I just wanted to protect you.”
“Th-thanks,” I said. “I understand—and I don’t blame you. I’m happy you’re always looking out for me. B-but now that you know the truth... I think we should fix this, and do something to help Taillow—and help myself, too. I still feel p-pretty bad.”
Sneasel crossed her arms and frowned. “Normally, I wouldn’t care about cheering up that obnoxious bird. But if it’ll help you get better, I’m down. What do you wanna do for her?”
“Well, we could give her a present. I know she likes singing and flying... Maybe we can get her a s-songbook of some sort?”
“Ugh, no way. She’s got plenty of tunes to annoy me with. She definitely doesn’t need to learn any more.”
We were both silent for a minute, trying to come up with ideas. My eyes roved around the room, looking at the flowers we’d acquired. I still felt upset about what happened with the Croconaw and Helioptile earlier today, but at least I could still enjoy them in private. Come to think of it, Taillow had been carrying a flower too.
“Flowers,” I murmured. “That could work.”
Sneasel laughed. “Ain’t surprised you’ve got those on the mind. Classic Booker.”
“I know it might sound... cliche coming from me, but I think it’s a good idea. She had a flower with her when we met her, so... she probably likes them. And there’s a beautiful meadow outside town that h-has lots of nice ones—I’ve talked to some florists about it before. I’m sure we could find something good over there.”
“Why not just buy some from a shop in town?”
“I feel like it would be more... meaningful if we got some ourselves. And it would save money too. A-also, after what happened today, I feel like... staying away from flower shops for a little bit. But if you don’t want to go to the meadow, th-that’s fine. We could—”
“Nah, I’ll go out with you,” Sneasel said. “Guess it’ll be good to take a walk and get some exercise. We can do that tomorrow morning.”
I thanked her, and we went to our beds. It was hard to sleep with all the thoughts and concerns running around my head, but after an unknown amount of time, I somehow managed to drift off.
* * *
Come morning, we did our typical routine and prepared to set off for the meadow. I remembered something the florists had told me about this place: some of the flowers had a tendency to leave stains, so storing our picked flowers in Sneasel’s belt pouch would be a bad idea. At my suggestion, Sneasel left her belt behind and searched the guildhall’s incredibly messy storeroom for something else we could use. We found a wicker basket, which would do the job nicely.
Sneasel playfully twirled and swung the basket with her claws as she walked into the eastern plains. I sat atop her head as usual and watched the landscape. It was still early, and a warm wind was blowing. We were on a long dirt path that meandered over gently undulating grassy hills, with forests and mountains visible in the distance. Some large lonely trees sprouted up from the grass here and there. It was a picturesque wilderness, the sort that would appear in a painting, but it wasn’t particularly interesting to travel through. Fortunately, the meadow was only an hour’s walk away.
After a while, one thing arrested my attention: a cluster of dark clouds were forming off to the north. The thought of being caught in a rainstorm was worrying, but Sneasel insisted it would be fine, and we should finish our job instead of turning back. My partner and I talked to pass the time and take my mind off the gray clouds, but they continued to grow denser and darker. I silently pleaded with them to dissipate, or at least stay away. In reply, they unleashed curtains of rain.
My heart began to race. I couldn’t take my eyes off the distant storm. I’d managed to stay dry ever since my first day of training with KFC, but I still vividly remembered the despicable sensation of being drenched at the waterfall pond. And now I was out in open plains, so far from the safety of the guildhall...
I began shivering. Sneasel must have felt me shaking atop her head, because she asked me what was wrong.
“Th-the rain,” I murmured.
“Ah, right. I noticed it just started over there. Well, don’t worry about it. Maybe it won’t even come our way!”
She patted my head to calm me down, but it didn’t help much. The air was growing colder and damper. I picked up a certain earthy scent with my antennae, and I heard Sneasel sniffing the air, as if she noticed it too and realized that her encouraging message was falling flat. The rain clouds were now sailing toward us on a high-altitude wind, like a menacing tidal wave of gray wetness. They’d be here any minute.
I hugged myself tightly. I was quaking like a leaf. My mind was screaming at me. I couldn’t be caught out here. I couldn’t get wet. I had to stay dry. I had to hide somewhere. I needed to stay safe. Like Sneasel’s pouch—wait.
Sneasel apparently realized the problem at the same time I did, and she groaned. “Ugh... I was just about to say you can hide in the pouch, but we left my belt back home.”
“W-what should we d-do?” I stammered. “I c-can’t get wet...”
“Stay calm, Booker,” said Sneasel. “Remember, even if you hate how the water feels, it ain’t gonna hurt you. You’ll be okay.”
She was completely right. Deep down, I knew she was. But that angry alien voice in my head was betraying me, making me ignore my common sense and succumb to instinctive panic. The Ribombee Booker had a stranglehold on the human Booker. I struggled to breathe. My whole body shuddered as my phobia of—
Rain splattered on my head, one big drop crashing down like a ton of bricks. I let out a strangled yelp of fear, and my whole body tensed up.
“Booker!” Sneasel shouted. “What’s wrong?”
That awful water was soaking the fluff of my head and trickling down my face. I screwed up my eyes and gasped for air, forcing a shaky arm to rise and wipe off the water. I could only squeak out a single word, barely audible: “H-help...”
Sneasel didn’t hesitate for an instant. “Hold still,” she said. She slid her basket to the crook of her arm, then reached up with both hands, wrapped her claws around me in a tight grip, and lifted me off her head. She held me against the soft fur of her chest, right beside her gem, with my head resting against her blue bandanna. Then she hunched forward and began to run.
Her claws covered almost all of me except my head, and her body was like a protective shield over me. Her cool body and the firm pressure of her embrace, plus her strong heartbeat, were oddly comforting. But it wasn’t enough. Rain kept pouring around us, and I shut my eyes and continued to shiver as Sneasel dashed along the path. I was jostled in her grip, and I heard splashing as each of her steps struck the wet dirt. Some spare bits of rainwater got through Sneasel’s defenses and hit me, making me flinch and gasp each time, but thanks to her efforts, I was kept mostly dry.
After an agonizing couple minutes, my partner slowed down, and the sounds of rain changed. I peeked and saw we had reached a large tree with a broad canopy that caught and blocked almost all the water, like an umbrella of leaves and wood. Sneasel, panting after her run, sat down at a dry spot where a root met the trunk. Briefly holding me against herself with one hand, she used the other to undo her partially-wet bandanna and toss it away, alongside our wicker basket. Then she brought her knees close to her chest, leaned forward, hunched her shoulders, and bowed her head. She was surrounding me with her body, covering and protecting me as much as she could. I looked up, and past her snout (which was rather close to my head), I saw her gleaming red eyes staring at me with concentration and worry.
“Ain’t the best shelter,” she said quietly, “but it’ll have to do. How are you holding up?”
I couldn’t find my voice. I knew what to do when I felt nervous, though: I reflected on what I’d learned of meditation over the last several weeks with my trainer, and I took some deep breaths to try to relax and let my surroundings fade. Sneasel’s embrace disappeared, but the rain refused to leave. It dug into my mind, making a solid backdrop of anxiety. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the canopy above, and Sneasel herself, weren’t a strong enough shield. I’d get soaked somehow. Water would wash over me. Cold, weakness, and fear would overtake me...
“H-hate...” I mumbled. “I hate this...”
“The rain?”
“Not j-just that,” I said, barely able to speak though my tight throat. “E-everything! It’s all the... n-new things, the ch-changes... I’m afraid of things I sh-shouldn’t be afraid of, I hate things I used t-to love so much, I’m... I’m losing myself. Something w-weird is t-taking over my mind, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to change, Sneasel... I just wish I was... s-still human. I d-don’t want to deal with... all this.”
There was a long and painful pause, filled with the awful sound of rain. I shook and gasped for air.
“I’m real sorry, Booker,” Sneasel grumbled. “I hate seeing you all upset.”
Another pause. The rain kept falling, splattering on the dense canopy above. I buried my face in my partner’s short scruffy fur, and Sneasel leaned forward a bit, tightening her embrace.
“I ain’t scared of rain,” she said, looking out at the storm around us. “But believe me, I know exactly what it feels like to be afraid of something, even if you wanna be brave. That ain’t cuz I’m a coward, though. Everyone gets scared, even me. But... you can’t let that get the best of you. You can be afraid of stuff, as long as you never give up.”
“Easier... s-said than done,” I whispered.
“I know, right? But that’s why it’s so cool whenever someone pulls it off. Y’know, back in the tribe, we had a saying like, ‘the best warrior isn’t the one that’s never afraid—it’s the one who fights despite being terrified.’ I always thought that was a good way to look at it.”
“But... why b-bother fighting?” I asked. I squirmed, pulling an arm out of her embrace so I could dry my eyes. The same doubts I’d felt before were coming back...
Was all this even worth it?
Did I really need to fly?
It would be so easy for me to just give up on my dream—and perhaps that would be the smartest thing to do.
“Is... Is it really worth it?”
Sneasel stared down at me and furrowed her brow. “Are you kidding? Yeah, it’s worth it! You’re gonna fly, Booker! That’s awesome! You’ve wanted to do that for so long now. You can’t give up. You’re stronger than that.”
“H-how strong am I, really? If some s-stupid rain is enough to give me a p-panic attack, I’m... I’m p-pathetic...”
Without loosening her grip, Sneasel moved one claw and tapped me hard on the head, startling me. “Don’t ever say that,” she growled with unexpected sternness. “If you really were pathetic, you’d be a wimpy loser who just sits around and never tries to get better. But you ain’t like that. You’ve been training for weeks and weeks, and I’ve seen how much stronger you’re getting—not just with lifting weights and running and stuff like that, but with your Aura too.”
“Th-that may be true, but... I still have s-so far to go, and—”
“And what? What’s that gotta do with anything? You oughta be happy with how far you’ve come already! Remember what we talked about when we first met? I hate weaklings who don’t bother trying to improve themselves, but if you do make an effort, that’s really cool. And you... Y-you really are cool, Booker. The coolest guy I know. I’m s-super proud of you.”
The silence was awkward and long.
“Um... s-sorry if that sounded dumb,” Sneasel said quickly. “I’ve just been thinking about that for a while, but I dunno how to say it without being all sappy, so I figured I’d just spit it out, and... S-stop looking at me like that!”
I’d been staring at her with wide eyes in response to her compliment. I could have sworn I caught a hint of blush through her gray fur. Sneasel bared her fangs and looked up, trying to act aloof, but she couldn’t hide how flustered she was. I could feel the positive vibes of her Aura, which surrounded me as she held me close. I smiled and leaned into her again.
“Thank you... f-for all that,” I said. “Even if it’s embarrassing for y—”
“I ain’t embarrassed,” Sneasel snapped, looking down at me again. “I just never know how to act gentle like this. It feels weird.”
“Really? You’ve done a p-pretty good job so far. I do feel better. I mean, I’m still w-worried and upset about all this, but... if I have you, I think I can make it. And y-you’re right: the end result will be worth all the struggle.”
Sneasel let out a soft sigh. Her cool breath washed over me, making me flinch. “Well, glad I can brighten you up,” she said. “I didn’t expect this little pep talk to fix everything, but if it’s put you back on the right road, then that’s all I can ask for.”
She adjusted her grip and wrapped her claws around me, then lifted me up to her face so we could speak more naturally. After a moment of face-to-face silence, Sneasel leaned back against the tree, took a deep breath, and said, “Look... don’t forget I believe in you, alright? Ain’t no reason to obsess over those instincts you’ve got. It’s just another obstacle to get over. I remember when you started working out, and you were worried about it cuz you’d never tried it before, but that didn’t stop you. It was new and hard for you, but you pulled it off. And these changes you’re going through—being afraid of the rain and birds, and hating your old favorite food, and all the rest—you can deal with them too. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Got that?”
We stared into each other’s eyes, and I slowly realized I was tearing up yet again—but not from terror or self-pity. It was... happiness, appreciation, admiration for my partner. She wasn’t annoyed at my weakness and fears. She didn’t mock me or hate me in the slightest. She genuinely liked me, and supported me, and cared about me. In my time of need, she really was the best companion I could ask for.
“I got it,” I said. “Thank you... for helping me. And thanks f-for being my partner, Sneasel.”
She smiled at me, and pulled me in for another tight hug. I nestled into her soft cool fur and shut my eyes, letting relaxation wash over me.
Something happened then. At long last, the rain faded from my mind. The wetness, the terror, the stress—everything disappeared. All that remained was the firm embrace of my dear partner, and the unshakable belief that I would overcome my fears and reach my goal, just as she knew I could. For the first time, I had no doubts left.
Next part: https://rentry.org/RibombeeFly9
“Learning to Fly” homepage: https://rentry.org/RibombeeFly My homepage: https://rentry.org/RibombeeHomepage Clover Guild homepage: https://cloverguild.com