The morning was saccharinely sunny and warm in stark contrast to the horrendous night prior.
Harbor waddled out into the sunshine from underneath a collapsed rooftop, assessing the damage to his home. His flippers splashed in the puddles filling the small depressions scattered about the landscape. He rolled back onto his tail to face the sky, now dotted with wisps of cottony white clouds.
Harbor had been passing the time at Mirror Plane when the storm hit. The water's surface had been nearly opaque, stained with the dark gray of the storm clouds, billowing like smoke. He watched his reflection quiver as the gusts of wind became even more turbulent, whipping up the water into salty sprays that lightly spattered his face. The rain began to drench the world around him, but, being a Water-type, he actually enjoyed this. His body shape prohibiting nearly all movement underwater, the raindrops felt strangely relieving as they drummed against his body. As the storm grew more violent, Harbor realized that he had overstayed on his visit to Mirror Planes and began to roll back towards the Society, feeling unusually uneasy being the only moving object in a colorless sea.
The succeeding night was a sleepless one. Harbor had chosen to build his house on the shore, wanting to be near the ocean, and the heavy winds caused titanic tidal surges. Waves thundered against the adobe walls of the domicile, creating cracks in the walls that subsequently began to flow with seawater. With each swell that washed into Harbor's home, there was the threat of being dragged out to sea, which meant certain death for a Spheal with little to no swimming ability. He survived the night by perching atop a shelf.
The storm now felt like a fever dream to Harbor as he momentarily basked in the rays of the morning sun. To his luck, his insulated fur had kept him dry and warm for most of the night and he had escaped unscathed. All around him, Pokémon were assisting each other with repairs. Harbor approached one of the fractured walls of what was once his house. He opened his mouth and used Powder Snow, exhaling a gust of cold wind. Balls of snow began to materialize and filled the cracks, freezing into a harder, more solid ice. He figured that it would hold the pieces in place until he could reconstruct the entire wall.
Harbor made his way towards the center of the community. He knew he wouldn't be chosen for a patrol, being a Greenhorn, but wanted to follow a group of Purpleguards to other parts of the island. He explored the devastation, looking for someone to help.
Harbor waddled out into the sunshine from underneath a collapsed rooftop, assessing the damage to his home. His flippers splashed in the puddles filling the small depressions scattered about the landscape. He rolled back onto his tail to face the sky, now dotted with wisps of cottony white clouds.
Harbor had been passing the time at Mirror Plane when the storm hit. The water's surface had been nearly opaque, stained with the dark gray of the storm clouds, billowing like smoke. He watched his reflection quiver as the gusts of wind became even more turbulent, whipping up the water into salty sprays that lightly spattered his face. The rain began to drench the world around him, but, being a Water-type, he actually enjoyed this. His body shape prohibiting nearly all movement underwater, the raindrops felt strangely relieving as they drummed against his body. As the storm grew more violent, Harbor realized that he had overstayed on his visit to Mirror Planes and began to roll back towards the Society, feeling unusually uneasy being the only moving object in a colorless sea.
The succeeding night was a sleepless one. Harbor had chosen to build his house on the shore, wanting to be near the ocean, and the heavy winds caused titanic tidal surges. Waves thundered against the adobe walls of the domicile, creating cracks in the walls that subsequently began to flow with seawater. With each swell that washed into Harbor's home, there was the threat of being dragged out to sea, which meant certain death for a Spheal with little to no swimming ability. He survived the night by perching atop a shelf.
The storm now felt like a fever dream to Harbor as he momentarily basked in the rays of the morning sun. To his luck, his insulated fur had kept him dry and warm for most of the night and he had escaped unscathed. All around him, Pokémon were assisting each other with repairs. Harbor approached one of the fractured walls of what was once his house. He opened his mouth and used Powder Snow, exhaling a gust of cold wind. Balls of snow began to materialize and filled the cracks, freezing into a harder, more solid ice. He figured that it would hold the pieces in place until he could reconstruct the entire wall.
Harbor made his way towards the center of the community. He knew he wouldn't be chosen for a patrol, being a Greenhorn, but wanted to follow a group of Purpleguards to other parts of the island. He explored the devastation, looking for someone to help.
