Opportunity

Familiarity

Elias' insistence that he wouldn't need help was proven wrong by the dropping of all his things to the sand at the very start of his first attempt to wear the headdress. So Dylus draped the cloth on the buizel's head and crowned him with the circlet himself. The two rounded tufts of fur there served as a convenient spot on which the band sat snugly. Elias looked up to Dylus, head adorned and protected, and thanked him.

As the bazaar gave way to the services district, Dylus listed the amenities. Flygon Mail was the most relevant to everyday pokemon. The local offices were there, where you could hash out any official business. A large, raised platform stood in the center, from which the public heard announcements. There were also a couple of cages that served as the oasis' jail. All were empty.

They made their way through the services district rather quickly, since neither had much reason to stop. There were no letters to mail, crimes to report, complaints to be heard, permits to apply for, or contracts to be witnessed. The only attraction visited was a wooden board containing a few assorted postings.

"These are rescue jobs. Though I tend to get mine from less official sources." Dylus explained, pulling out a paper of his own and handing it to Elias.

The buizel inspected the page intently, asking "So this a request you're going to do?"

"No, I've already done that job. Y'know, I always write 'completed' plus whatever date on the bottom, there." Dylus went to point out his note on the paper, but hesitated. Elias was staring at the page upside down. He opened his satchel and pretended to search through it. "Wait, can you tell me which job that was? I may have marked the wrong one."

"Uh... here, why don't you have it back." Elias went to return it, but a gust of wind caught it as he extended his arm. The paper was ripped from between his paw's digits, floating away on the breeze. He became almost frantic at his mistake, turning his head back and forth, scanning the horizon for the wayward paper and promising to get it back. The proposition was hopeless, given how similar papyrus' color is to the sand. Dylus watched the buizel's erratic searching slow until his eyes settled on the ground between them as he shifted on his paws awkwardly.

"Eh, don't fuss over it. And we still got a couple places to check out." Dylus assured.

Now slightly calmed since the passage of peak hours, the bazaar was easier to navigate through. Elias watched the side opposite he did on their first journey through. Dylus kept his focus straight. As they passed the inn, they looked to the place's entrance. Patrons were filing in, stood waiting outside as a rhydon guided them through. A soft murmuring came from the building along with soft music. As it faded, rows of small houses began to fill the borders of the road.

The neighborhood was claustrophobic. It was a smattering of plain sandstone boxes, many only accessible through alleyways formed by the residences in front of them. Some possessed additional floors just as cookie-cutter as their sub-levels. Each had windows, no doubt necessary for ventilation, curtained by thin, sun bleached and faded, cloths. Clutter laid near, and on, their cracked facades. Elias seemed much more engaged with this part of town. He watched the pokemon merely going about their days especially: a maractus attending to a collection of plants on the flat roof of her home, a sandshrew decorating the windows of his second floor, and a scarmory gusting away the sand that had piled up against his house.

"There's not really much to this place." Dylus casually remarked, though Elias hardly paid any attention to him.

The next and final stop on their tour was the empty shore of the oasis. Barren of buildings, this section had become overgrown with plant life. Trees, grasses, and shrubbery made this strip their home, of species notably different from those plants displayed in the pipe room of the inn. Things which, while present in the other areas, clung mostly to the shore. Elias jogged with uncharacteristic enthusiasm toward the greenery and water beyond.

He had passed Dylus when he bent down just beside a bush slightly taller than him. Elias sat his cloth sack on the ground, untying it. Paws' ungracefulness apparent once again, the buizel struggled, but eventually completed his task. Among his things were a pen, an ink bottle, and a book.

Dylus watched with curiosity. "'Thought you'd to go for the water first."

"This is just something I used to do a lot as a kid, so I figured 'why not?'" The buizel had turned his attention to a poppy next to him and plucked it with both his paws, then set it down inside the pages of his book. They were blank. "But yeah, I really do need to clean off. Could I still take you up on that offer to carry my things? And tie them?" The last sentence was tentatively drawn out, as if he were embarrassed to ask.

A smug smile was shot back to him. Reaching down, Dylus made a big show of retying the bindle, exaggerating his movements and ending with a flourish as he pulled the knot tight. "That's how you do it."

Elias gave a couple of soft laughs. "Let's hope I'm better at swimming."

The oasis was blue as the sky, its water's far end almost blinding as the sunlight bounced off it. They weren't alone on the shores; sparse activity occupied areas close to the residences. One pokemon looked to be washing rugs, another gathering water before carrying it off. A couple were doing nothing but relaxing, enjoying themselves lying on mats.

As he watched Elias initially enter the water slowly, Dylus was surprised when the buizel suddenly dove deeper into the oasis' depths, violently kicking up a large amount of water. He stayed under just long enough for the ripples to settle. Returning to the surface and meeting his gaze, Elias' eyes shone in the afternoon Sun. His face wore a smile more full than the krokorok had thus far seen from him. "Wow!" Seemed to be his only comment before diving back under.

Dylus crossed his arms and shook his head in amusement.

When the water broke again only Elias' head emerged, kept afloat by his air sac. "I didn't know..." The elation in his voice did not recede as he trailed off, floating on his back, eyes closed. "It's just been a while. Why don't you get in? Water's great!"

The krokorok exchanged standing for sitting. "Eh, water and ground types don't mix," he said while Elias still floated, still bore that contented face.

They maintained that status quo for a good minute, Elias relaxing on the water's surface, and occasionally venturing to swim. Contagious, the water type's contentment infected Dylus. The Sun continued its march across the sky, darkening the horizon ever so slightly as time passed. It was peaceful there, sitting, just watching him from the shore. The blue of the water's reflection turned increasingly to warm oranges and reds while afternoon approached evening. Elias looked almost asleep on the water. A guilt crept in on Dylus. The black of twilight encroached at the day's edges.

Dylus rose, standing hesitant for a while. "Elias!" he shouted, "It's getting dark and you don't want to be wet at night!"

He exited the water dripping wet, arms outstretched away from his body. "Do you have a towel?"

"Nope," Dylus said, crouched down and occupied with searching through his pack. "Why don't you just shake?"

"Shake?"

"Yeah, isn't that what you furred ones do to get dry? Shake?" He gave a small demonstration by shimmying his shoulders as he still concentrated on his equipment.

"...Okay"

Water droplets came flying Dylus' way, partially splashing the top half of his body. "Hey!" His paw, raised against the onslaught, provided minimal protection.

"Whoops, sorry! I wasn't thinking." Elias said, the grin on his face betraying the apology's insincerity.

"Suure. That's why you're so clumsy, right, 'cuz you can't think to use your paws? Can't even... wait, what do you use that journal for?" Dylus muttered, struggling to pull out two blankets from the depths of his pack.

"I write in it. What else would I do? " He said it as if it were obvious.

Dylus didn't bother to respond as the blankets he'd been yanking at were finally freed from the confines of his pack. He spread one—the thinner of the two—onto a clear patch of sand. It was a plain, faded maroon color and very scratchy. The second, made of a much thicker dull-brown material, was also softer. It was placed on the first in a bunch.

"Unless you've got a room somewhere, you're welcome to sleep on this tonight," Dylus said as he closed back up his pack.

Elias didn't look nearly as apprehensive as he'd expected him to. Instead, the buizel skipped happily to the blankets, sat down, and pulled the bunched-up larger one into a tight hug. "I don't even need a room as long as I have soft bedding again," he said, nuzzling his cheek into the fabric.

Dylus watched with his own, if slightly amused, sense of apprehension. "Alright... good."

Elias' head popped back to attention. "Wait, you have more than just these, right?"

"No, but there's a reason those aren't embedded with a thousand grains of sand." Dylus began, pride creeping into his tone. "Been doing this since I hatched."

With that, the krokorok walked some feet away right next to his things, then lowered to the ground on all fours. His back paws dug downward into the sand, then his front, covering his entire body in the Earth. Only his head was left exposed, slightly past the sand's surface. Settling in, he caught Elias staring, still long after he'd finished.

"Huh," Elias commented, holding the blanket close again.

It was his turn now. The blanket was larger than him, so Elias should've had no issues covering himself. He began by unraveling it and laying in its center. Dylus observed him from his burrow as he rolled to face one corner and brought it over on himself, only for it to fall as he reached for its opposite. The desire to coach him was irresistible. What followed was a needlessly complicated exchange of 'hold that corner's, 'grab that side's, 'roll that way's, 'I can't do that's, and 'I'm trying's until the buizel successfully wrapped himself in a snug cocoon of thick blanket.

Things calmed as they lay there. Dylus stayed awake, staring at his blanket set up. He couldn't see Elias from where he lay, but the rhythmic rising and falling of the blanket told him he'd fallen asleep already. He was curious about him, though he knew he shouldn't be. It was looking a gift mudsdale in the mouth. Condensation faded into the cold night air as he breathed, head raised toward Elias' white bindle.

Getting the journal out was easy enough; he just pulled his upper body out of the sand and took it from the sack next to him. It was solid brown. He tested the waters by opening it and loudly flipping through a few pages, watching for any signs of movement from its owner, who didn't stir. License to snoop obtained, he looked at the pages in earnest.

The first few were entirely illegible. The author's unsteady paws really shone through in them. The words, if that was what they were meant to be, were inconsistent scribbles on the page, some too small, some too large, and every one looking to have been written in an earthquake. He kept flipping pages, glancing at each to see if any were decipherable.

As he flipped page after page, the text became more uniform. Size leveled out, letters came together into words, and the words themselves differentiated from each other. What was odd was that he still couldn't understand any of it; it was all nonsense. A scant few characters seemed familiar, but he couldn't place them. Almost to the end of the written pages did he see the first real words. They were random smatterings. 'Of', 'and', 'the', 'oasis', 'water', 'inn', and 'food' were there, all next to single nonsense words of similar length. Presumably their equivalents in this strange script.

The last 10 or so pages written on were like this, words, sometimes phrases, coupled with foreign counterparts. There was one final used page, but containing no words. On it was a sketch: a collection of 6 crudely drawn pokemon stared back. All of varying heights, they looked to be of similar species, maybe machokes. The ink was runny in places, like something had been spilled on it. Past this page was the poppy.

He shut the book and settled back in his spot. He hadn't noticed he'd been shivering until the warmth of the sand engulfed him again, mind occupied with the contents of the journal. He closed his eyes, attempting to relax, but struggled, left unsatisfied and with more questions. The night dragged on as his breathing leveled to a steady pace.

"I'm sorry, I was getting worried," Elias apologized, crouching over him and shaking his snout with a paw. He had his headdress on already. "Are you—woah!" As Dylus arose from the sand, a fair bit of it was kicked up onto Elias. The buizel fell back from his position, catching himself with an arm and knocking his journal back a bit. His things had been opened, pen and ink pot over by the blankets where he'd slept.

Yawn "'Had breakfast yet?" Dylus said with a sly smile, stretching.

"Uh, no, 'just been writing."

"Well, no need to be shy about getting into my things, so long as you don't go too crazy on the food... or try to drench yourself in my water." Dylus teased.

"C'mon. It was really nice last night! You'd know if you went in!" Elias replied defensively.

Looking beyond him, the blankets sat in their spot folded up. They looked neat enough. "Good job on the blankets. I must be rubbing off on you." Dylus said, jabbing the buizel with his elbow, "Bring them here and I'll get food out."

He pulled from his satchel two servings of preserved meat and a couple of canteens. Elias went to his sleeping spot, coming back carrying both blankets on top of his outstretched arms. They were damp. Dylus took them, and setting them next to his pack, extended half the food and drink to his companion. They both lowered to the ground and sat, eating.

Dylus was the first to initiate small talk. "So, what do you write in that book of yours, anyway?"

"Just my plans... and thoughts" was said with some trepidation.

"Plans?"

"Yeah, like, before this, I was getting a job at the inn! Then, well, that's it, really."

"'Got no plans for when you get to the city?" Dylus further inquired.

"Well, I'm still not sure—"

"You were pretty good at swimming yesterday. I'm sure you'd fit in at the docks. Or—since you like writing—the academy or city offices might want you. Those are cushy jobs, y'know."

Elias sat there for a short time, considering what Dylus had said, before getting up and bringing over his writing material. "That 'academy' is it like a college?"

"College? Not sure what that is." Dylus continued, "I've never been myself, but I know they hold classes there, have professors, smart 'mons all around. Things like that. You'd probably fit in as one of their scribes, copying down books."

Dylus finished his food and got up to put the blankets back while Elias wrote something down. "Hmm. Yeah, I'm a student at one of those. Or I was, Until a few days ago, I guess. I'll have to check that out."

Dylus was taken aback, but smiled turning to face Elias. "Woah! I didn't know I was dealing with a better class here! My apologies, sir, if my common vulgarity may have offended." He said in an exaggerated accent and bowed.

Elias chuckled awkwardly and looked up at the krokorok before him. "...What?"

The theatrics continued. "I'm sure an educated pokemon such as yourself must come from a nobler kind than us of the low, ignorant masses!"

The buizel laughed wholeheartedly now, in the process dropping his canteen into the sand. "Um, yeah—Yes! Very much indeed, plebian! Now, be a good servant and procure my flask from the ground. I may have a shilling for you!" Elias mimicked Dylus' put-upon tone and turned up his snout.

Despite the command, Elias bent down himself to retrieve the flask. Dylus did the same, swiping the object up and presenting it to the pretend elite. He took a prostrate position, as one would offering tribute to a king sat on his throne. "Your decanter, sir. I have polished it thoroughly."

Elias laughed yet more before calming. "Okay, okay, I get it. But no, where I'm from college isn't a rich thing."

Dylus was putting on his satchel, still standing. "Then you're not from any place I've heard of." He brought out his coin purse from the pack it was resting in, weighing it. It was dangerously light. "How about you finish eating and watch my pack while I go buy some traveling supplies for the two of us?" He affixed Elias with an expectant stare.

"Yeah, sure." Elias agreed, pulling the pack closer to himself by one of its straps.

Of course, the bazaar was already at peak hours. Dylus uncomfortably trudged through the crowd toward the one vendor he needed. Preserved meats hung in bundles tied with strings at his stall. A single large basket of assorted berries sat front and center, at a price over triple the meat. Those bland strips seemed like the only things he ate anymore.

He only had enough for five bundles, but knew he needed six. The gible merchant resisted, at first, negotiating down the price. Dylus' appeals to his financial woes seemed to the krokorok only to entrench the land shark's position, like he'd smelled desperation and clamped down on him for it. But determined to turn this insult back on the predator, their conversation developed into a shouting match at whose peak the guard was threatened on him.

"Fine! Whatever, take it." The merchant curtly admitted defeat, entirely covered in Dylus' oppressive shadow, discomforted by his hostile presence looming closely. "Thug."

Dylus snatched up his goods and empty purse into his satchel, starting back toward the unused quarter.