"Mummy, why does my coat turn brown in winter?" The tiny Deerling yawned as the creature rose from the depths of sleep. The small Pokemon had facial similarities to Shaymin’s Sky Form, so much that people might mistake one which is painted white for the legendary Pokemon. The Deerling bent her head low, revealing a yellowish-colored, floral tuft on its head. Wanting to return back to sleep, the fawn rolled over, revealing a series of yellow patterns. Her lighter beige belly was nipped by the cold, which made the ignorant young deer to standing position.
"So... cold!" The Deerling dove under her mother's underside. A large blanket of fur covered the Sawsbuck's body, a collection of fur from the many winters before, glued together with Wurmple silk. The large Sawsbuck's blanket of fur not only protected the Deerling from the howling winds and the frigid temperatures, but also hid the vulnerable Deerling from predators. No predator in the right mind would go for a full-grown Sawsbuck sporting huge horns. They would rather sneak up on the Sawsbuck's child; it would be unable to fight back. The one-year-old was so fragile; one strong bite from a Ninetails, one swift kick from a Tauros, one unexpected tackle by an Ursaring, and it would be all over. Thankfully, most predators were either hibernating, tucked away in the snow-covered landscape, or have migrated to warmer areas.
"You are brown because being brown will help you camouflage among the dead leaves. I also find covering myself in dark materials helps me to stay warm." The Sawsbuck has wizened in the unforgiving wilderness. Any bit of information aiding survival could mean the difference between a fruitful life and an one-way ticket to death. All the odd pieces of information was passed down from generations- though the blanket of fur idea was thought up by herself.
"Then, why is your fur white? Aren't you cold, Mummy?" The Deerling said. The Sawsbuck giggled at her child's innocence and unneeded concern towards her.
"Don't worry. Mummy is big and strong. She can resist the cold," The Sawsbuck trudged along the soft snow to where the main pack gathered. It was supposed to be one of the calmer winter days, with no sign of snow storms or hazardous weathers. However, they discovered soon enough that the weather has been blessing in disguise. "Now, Lily, I wan-"
"Look at the weather today, Clive! It's the best time for hunting." The old man hurried his Girafarig along, not wanting to let this short winter day disappear. Behind him followed another horse, but instead of an enthusiastic lover of the hunt, there sat a young boy, visibly bored to death. Strapped across his waist was a gun, suitable for blowing the brains out of some poor unsuspecting Pokemon. The old man shouldn't be out, he thought. The man's hair has already turned whiter than the blinding snow. He should have quit from his hunting days by now...
"But Grandfather, you know perfectly well I hate bringing the end to any creature's life." Clive protested, but his grandfather acted like he didn't hear him. Well, he probably didn't- the old man was growing hard of hearing. Clive groaned as his paternal grandfather continued about his tips on hunting and what to remember. The only thing he heard was 'Make sure to set you gun to 'safe' when not in use' or something like that.
"Oh, look at that!... oh, it ran away." The old man sighed. Clive wanted to have his hand slap his face again, but this time, he resisted. For one thing, his gloves were unrealistically itchy and he didn't want to spread the itch to his face. However, his hand was already inches away from his face, and since his grandfather was looking at him, Clive didn't want to seem weird and instead adjusted the blue hat that forced down his blond hair. Clive hated winter. He had to wear puffy clothes that made him look like an idiot. He had to wear several layers of horribly thick clothing and, not only were they hard to wear, they were tight and seemed to suffocate him all day. Of course, they could have taken an easy way into the forest and get their father to drive them over to the forest. But his grandfather insisted that they ride on a Girafarig the whole way.
"Your father was a great hunter himself! In the summer, he always brought back a Vulpix tail or two. Once he even shot down a British Ninetails! I don't have a gun myself, so anything you see you can shoot! Now, now, you must be quite tired due to..."
"Listening to you..." The boy mumbled under his breath.
"...traveling, so we'll stop here now and look around. Take in the scenery!"
Clive looked around. All he could see was dead trees and snow. Oh, and look... more snow. Wait, was that snow moving?
Clive's grandfather had bad eyes. He couldn't see the moving snow, or that it had a different texture. Freaking out at a possibility of a ghost, the nine year old gripped his gun, his sapphire eyes widened in fear as the train of endless possibilities of what it was stormed through his creative mind. His fair fingers trembling, he switched the safety off and fired.
"Want? Want what, Mummy?" Lily said. She screamed when her mother suddenly collapsed to the side, stricken in fear. Blood seeped from the gunshot wound, a sudden hole in the Deerling's only protector. But still, in her death, the only thing the Sawsbuck wanted was to protect the tiny deer. She forced herself to tumble to the side far enough to not crush the child. Though she tried to breathe, holding her head above the rising waves, the inviting yet cold tentacles of death wrapped around her leg and stopped her pain. However, the worry of her child's well-being remained till the last millisecond.
"Good lord, Clive! First hunting trip, first shot, and you've got a Sawsbuck! You hit it in a vital area too, seeing how fast it went down. I didn't even see it!" What was this strange old man? He was scary. Lily tried to back away, but it was as if the same tentacle that pulled her mother down was tying her legs to the ground. Lily couldn't even breathe with such fear, mounting inside of her.she was brown, but she felt that she could become snow and fall into a lump upon the ground.
"I... I did what?" The young voice of a boy. Lily recalled her mother warning her of humans. They killed them. Yes, it would be a bit acceptable if it was for food, for their own survival. But the humans did it for fun. They gleamed and smiled as their victims fell, only severing the parts vital to their twisted game.
"Oh, it left behind a Deerling... the poor thing, it seems too scared to move." The old man's face softened and reached for Lily, his hands moving to pick the brown deer up. However, the Deerling wasn't giving in to the innocent looking man. Never mind that he had wrinkles, a sign of age, and her mother always told her to be gentle towards all old folk, no matter what species.
"Argh! This deer must be agitated!" The old man winced as Lily bit down into his hand. Then, as the man bawled over, clutching his bloody hand, Lily lowered her head and ran straight towards the man, slamming his with her body, "Ouch... That was Tackle..." The old man groaned slightly before collapsing onto the ground. Lily was too weak to injure the man severely, but the bash was strong enough to cause an aching abdomen. Clive ran forward. Sure, his grandfather was idiotic and old, but no one could hurt him.
"Gigi! Use Psychic!" The Girafarig Clive rode on nodded before closing her eyes in strong concentration. Lily suddenly felt an enormous headache. Her stomach turned and Lily felt... well... very uncomfortable. It was as if she was quite sick. For some reason, she felt like she was... floating? No, her feet was still on the ground. Now there's double vision. Ugh...
The amount of telekinetic power was enough to confuse Lily. However, no amount of power will stop the angered Deerling. It ran up to the human boy, who she thought was the source of the pain, and kicked him in the stomach with her hooves. Small as they were, Lily's legs was her strongest weapon. The first 'kick' was more of a punch with her front hoof. Efore she turned around and back kicked the boy with her two back hooves. The boy groaned. Girafarig fumed with anger. The Deerling could not hurt her owner with Double Kick, or any other move on that matter!
Girafarig ran up and hit the Deerling with her tail once, twice. It looked like Girafarig was being silly and shaking her gluteus maximus, but to Lily it was far more painful. Payback for Double Kick is... Double Hit, of course. However, this move had a twist. Lily focused her vision onto the tail and saw that it had eyes. Suddenly, the black head reached out and bit into Lily's nose. A sickening crunch filled the air and Lily's nose bled. In horror, Lily screamed and danced around frantically. Never has she felt this degree of pain before. Her mother has been very protective.
"Hey, hey! Deerlings have very sensitive noses!"
It was true. Lily felt herself fade in and out of conscience, something that only occurred to her in the comfort of her own bed. Finally, the pain was too much and, against her will, Lily slipped into a sea of darkness that the color black paled in comparison to. However, she was still struggling to open her eyes. The old man and Clive have forced themselves up and picked up the half-fainted Deerling.
"Looks like it's fainted. Since we killed its mother, its only fair that we care for it now," Clive looked at the tiny deer and back at his grandfather. If it was inhumane to let the little Pokemon die due to losing its parents, then why hunt in the first place? However, Clive had no energy to argue and simply pulled out a red and white ball out of his pocket. Dropping the Pokeball over Lily, he watched as the Pokemon entered the Pokeball. It was at the best condition for capture; too tired to fight back and too strong to faint.
"Um, grandfather, can we just get the antlers and leave? I don't want to hunt today anymore!" Clive said. He knew getting his grandfather's attention through passive motion and yelling could persuade the old man to do anything.
"Oh, and I think the possession of a gun by me is actually forbidden by law..."
Lily never warmed up to her new owners. She never listened to their orders. Ner mind the fact they gave her food, gave her warmth, a home. They traumatized her, and she knew they had. Even when she evolved and was released into the wild, she never turned her head or had a sad break-up with the now grown up Clive. She hated him. No Pokemon therapist could solve it. Even though some Pokemon were subjected to much worser sights and recovered, Lily just lingered above the line of insanity and well in the area of utmost loathing.
Some say it was the sight she saw. Some say it was simply her personality. Some say she was never meant to be captured by a human.
No matter what, even when the snow melted into the inviting flowers of Spring, or the sun shone down upon her menacingly during Summer, or when the familiar cool breeze met her with beautiful Autumn leaves, her heart was always as cold as winter.
Pokemon being Captured: Deerling
Suggested Length: 10k - 20k
Actual Length: 11169