Clouds covered the black sky of the night, hiding the moon and the stars. Fat raindrops attacked the ground, showering anyone foolish enough to be out in the rain with a barrage of cold water bullets.
Cleo looked around. Up in the trees, a mother honchkrow sheltered her murkrow chicks with her wings. She crowed gently to them, as if to say, "Mama's got you, my dears." A gaggle of trainers passed by, each of them cradling an exhausted and wounded pokemon in their arms. The pokemon centre's doors swished open, and they were kindly greeted by the town's Nurse Joy.
Cleo comtemplated following them into the pokemon centre. It was dry, and warm, and well-lit, but there were trainers inside. Too many trainers. So she turned away, and continued on her journey.
If it weren't for a trainer, then she wouldn't have ended up like she was now; starving, and freezing, and soaked to the bone. The most that she'd had to eat all day was a nibble of a rotting pokepuff, which had fallen out of a bin bag near a bakery.
She didn't mean to evolve into what she had done. It happened too fast; one minute, she was sat there, in front of her master, and the next, she was swallowed up by a brilliant light, and ribbons sprouted from her ears and chest, and then she wasn't an eevee anymore.
Cleo willed herself forward. Her paws hit so many puddles, soaking right through her velveteen fur. She scanned the area again. Only a few houses still had lights on inside. And it seemed that the dry spots between the shops had all been taken by hostile grimers and zangoose, who readied their attacks at the sight of her.
Her master had been great to her. As in, shirt off of his back great, for the entire six months that she'd been under his ownership. He doted on her far more than any of his other pokemon. She got to play with him all the time, whenever he made pokepuffs, she always got the biggest ones, and he told her at least ten times a day how special she was, and how lucky he was to have her. But why? Cleo had always been told that her grey coat was bad, because it made it easy for predators to spot her and her mother. But he loved her grey fur, and the way that it sparkled a little. He said that she was a 'shiny', and that that made her special.
Cleo did not know how long she walked for, before she stopped in the street and checked her surroundings again. She was starting to reach the outskirts of the town, that was evident from the abundance of small houses, and lack of shops. Not one house had any lights on.
It happened one day after a battle. Cleo's master was rubbing her belly and congratulating her, and telling her that she was the most special eevee in all the world... And then ribbons sprouted from her chest and wrapped around his arm. Her legs and body got longer. Her fur was no longer thick and fluffy and grey, it was now velveteen, and mostly blue, with white and pink highlights. She was beautiful.
Her master's face is one that will forever be burned into her memory.
His eyes widened. His jaw trembled. Cleo stepped towards him. What was wrong? She'd evolved... This was what he'd wanted, right?
"I wanted an umbreon!" he cried, "I wanted an umbreon, not this girly blue thing!"
An umbreon? Eevees evolved into umbreons when they really liked their masters, didn't they? So what had gone wrong? Had Cleo not liked him enough?
She tried calling out to him with her new voice. All that came out was, "Sylveon!"
"Great, now I have to start all over again," he grumbled, "How long will it be before I get my hands on another shiny stinkin' eevee?! That's the fifth failure this year!"
Cleo's eyes widened. Failure?
"I will get my hands on a shiny umbreon someday, I swear! No matter how many times I have to pretend to care about the stupid eevee until it evolves!"
He crushed her pokeball with his boot heel, and stomped away from Cleo in a huff.
So all of his love for her had been a lie. Cleo fought tears as she too ran away.
Finally, Cleo saw a light in a house at the end of the road. Another sylveon stood in the door, except she was pink instead of blue, like Cleo.
"Come inside, sister," the pink sylveon called out warmly, "You must be weary, are you not?"
Wordlessly, Cleo followed the pink sylveon into the house. The stranger's feeler wrapped around her shoulders as they entered a room with a big fireplace.
Cleo lay in front of the crackling tongue of fire, comforted by its heat. A dish of warm moomoo milk was put in front of her, which she gulped down hungrily.
"Thank you," she simply said as she looked up at her hosts.
"We were all in your situation once, dear sister," the kindly pink sylveon who'd let her in said, "Think nothing of it. Perhaps you would like to tell us about your journey?"
Cleo nodded, and the others staying in the house, all of whom were sylveons like her, gathered round as she told the tale of her evolution, her weeks on the street, and her journey.
Cleo looked around. Up in the trees, a mother honchkrow sheltered her murkrow chicks with her wings. She crowed gently to them, as if to say, "Mama's got you, my dears." A gaggle of trainers passed by, each of them cradling an exhausted and wounded pokemon in their arms. The pokemon centre's doors swished open, and they were kindly greeted by the town's Nurse Joy.
Cleo comtemplated following them into the pokemon centre. It was dry, and warm, and well-lit, but there were trainers inside. Too many trainers. So she turned away, and continued on her journey.
If it weren't for a trainer, then she wouldn't have ended up like she was now; starving, and freezing, and soaked to the bone. The most that she'd had to eat all day was a nibble of a rotting pokepuff, which had fallen out of a bin bag near a bakery.
She didn't mean to evolve into what she had done. It happened too fast; one minute, she was sat there, in front of her master, and the next, she was swallowed up by a brilliant light, and ribbons sprouted from her ears and chest, and then she wasn't an eevee anymore.
Cleo willed herself forward. Her paws hit so many puddles, soaking right through her velveteen fur. She scanned the area again. Only a few houses still had lights on inside. And it seemed that the dry spots between the shops had all been taken by hostile grimers and zangoose, who readied their attacks at the sight of her.
Her master had been great to her. As in, shirt off of his back great, for the entire six months that she'd been under his ownership. He doted on her far more than any of his other pokemon. She got to play with him all the time, whenever he made pokepuffs, she always got the biggest ones, and he told her at least ten times a day how special she was, and how lucky he was to have her. But why? Cleo had always been told that her grey coat was bad, because it made it easy for predators to spot her and her mother. But he loved her grey fur, and the way that it sparkled a little. He said that she was a 'shiny', and that that made her special.
Cleo did not know how long she walked for, before she stopped in the street and checked her surroundings again. She was starting to reach the outskirts of the town, that was evident from the abundance of small houses, and lack of shops. Not one house had any lights on.
It happened one day after a battle. Cleo's master was rubbing her belly and congratulating her, and telling her that she was the most special eevee in all the world... And then ribbons sprouted from her chest and wrapped around his arm. Her legs and body got longer. Her fur was no longer thick and fluffy and grey, it was now velveteen, and mostly blue, with white and pink highlights. She was beautiful.
Her master's face is one that will forever be burned into her memory.
His eyes widened. His jaw trembled. Cleo stepped towards him. What was wrong? She'd evolved... This was what he'd wanted, right?
"I wanted an umbreon!" he cried, "I wanted an umbreon, not this girly blue thing!"
An umbreon? Eevees evolved into umbreons when they really liked their masters, didn't they? So what had gone wrong? Had Cleo not liked him enough?
She tried calling out to him with her new voice. All that came out was, "Sylveon!"
"Great, now I have to start all over again," he grumbled, "How long will it be before I get my hands on another shiny stinkin' eevee?! That's the fifth failure this year!"
Cleo's eyes widened. Failure?
"I will get my hands on a shiny umbreon someday, I swear! No matter how many times I have to pretend to care about the stupid eevee until it evolves!"
He crushed her pokeball with his boot heel, and stomped away from Cleo in a huff.
So all of his love for her had been a lie. Cleo fought tears as she too ran away.
Finally, Cleo saw a light in a house at the end of the road. Another sylveon stood in the door, except she was pink instead of blue, like Cleo.
"Come inside, sister," the pink sylveon called out warmly, "You must be weary, are you not?"
Wordlessly, Cleo followed the pink sylveon into the house. The stranger's feeler wrapped around her shoulders as they entered a room with a big fireplace.
Cleo lay in front of the crackling tongue of fire, comforted by its heat. A dish of warm moomoo milk was put in front of her, which she gulped down hungrily.
"Thank you," she simply said as she looked up at her hosts.
"We were all in your situation once, dear sister," the kindly pink sylveon who'd let her in said, "Think nothing of it. Perhaps you would like to tell us about your journey?"
Cleo nodded, and the others staying in the house, all of whom were sylveons like her, gathered round as she told the tale of her evolution, her weeks on the street, and her journey.
