True to Philip’s word, the Murkrow returned twenty minutes later, in the company of some fellows.

  One of them in particular flew down, exchanging croaks for words, and an Oran berry from Philip. Deal reaffirmed, the Pokémon took to the sky, landing on a branch at the edge of the clearing. The other Murkrow flew past it, deeper into the forest, and Philip and I mounted up in pursuit.

  Clover and Pauline chased the Darkness Pokémon faithfully, moving from one croaking corvid to the next, like some sort of strange relay race.

  We weren’t moving very fast, it took time to navigate between the perches of our guides, so Philip took the opportunity to go over the plan with me again. “We’ll approach them mounted, in case they have a negative reaction to our presence. Clover, if they attack, focus on using Protect and moving away from the pack. We’ll retreat, and radio for backup.”

  My mount bleated an affirmation, and Philip continued. “If they don’t attack right away, I’ll try to mediate with the pack leader. I might need to battle them to win their respect, so don’t freak out if we start a fight.”

  That felt a bit patronizing, but I held my tongue.

  “After introductions and the possible battle, we’ll figure out what drove them to attack the ranch, and make our decision on what to do from there.”

  “That all sounds a bit… loose,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.

  The older ranger just shrugged. “You need to stay on your toes with wild Pokémon. No plan lasts long in the field. It’s better to keep things malleable. Oh, but one more thing,” he pulled the radio out of his pack, “always make sure to call in when you’re approaching a potentially dangerous situation. Need to keep the station updated.”

  Philip proceeded to activate the device. After a few moments, a faint, tinny voice came from the other end, to which the ranger responded. They went back and forth for a few moments, and then Philip summarized our situation, and our plan going forward. Seemingly satisfied, he tucked the radio away and turned to me, “If there’s ever any doubt, make sure to radio it in. Keeping each other updated about what we’re doing is one of the most important ways to stay safe out here.”

  I nodded, committing the detail to memory.

  -

  We followed the Murkrow for a little over an hour, until we eventually ended up at the edges of a small hillside. Our guide stopped us, signaling Pauline with a croak.

  “They’re up ahead? Do they have a burrow on this hill?” Philip asked the Dark-type Pokémon.

  He got an affirmative sounding cry in response. “I see. This might be an offshoot pack then, or one of the existing ones may have gotten pushed out of their territory. Either one could be a complicating factor.”

  I’d known Philip long enough now to be able to tell that the words weren’t really for my benefit, he was just musing out loud, but the peek into his thought process was useful all the same.

  “Alright, let’s go in,” the older ranger decided. “Their burrow is downwind of us, so they’ll have already detected our approach. Stay alert, If they’re a new pack, they might try to ambush us.

  I could feel myself and my mount tense up, both of us coiled, anticipating action. Clover would have more to do in the case of an attack than I would, but I was determined to at least keep myself from being a burden.

  We ambled forwards, out of the treeline, and into the open area surrounding the hillside.

  Fortunately, no rocks or canids came flying at us. Instead, we were greeted by low growls, pouring out of the hillside in waves of dire warning. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and could feel my mount tense even further. We both cast about, looking for the source of the disconcerting noise.

  “The rocks,” Philip said, voice clipped.

  I zeroed in on the stones and boulders littering the hill. My eyes narrowed, as I tried to peer closer. For a moment, and then another, I couldn’t spot the Pokémon against the rocky terrain, but a small, tiny bit of movement drew my eye. Fur, blown by the wind, pushed backwards from the slow breeze coming from behind us. The shape of a Lycanroc gradually resolved in my vision, as I made out more and more details of the camouflaged hunter. The alternating tans and grays of its coat let it blend in seamlessly with the rocks, and if not for the wind disturbing its fur, I would have missed it.

  Even having spotted one, the others remained hidden from my eyes, until they began moving. Their growling threats unheeded, the pack of Lycanroc and Rockruff peeled themselves free of the stones surrounding them. Where there had been one, I could now make out at least five prowling predators, descending the hillside and moving to flank our little group.

  A deep, guttural bleating came from Pauline, and Clover echoed it a moment later. The noise wasn’t very frightening, in my opinion, but the Rock-types took the threat for what it was, halting their approach, but continuing to growl at us.

  The standoff held for a beat, and then two, and then Philip’s voice cut across the clearing, overpowering the low sounds coming from the canids. “A ranch to the West of here was attacked by a pack of Rockruff and Lycanroc.”

  The growling intensified, and I did my best to keep my nerves from showing as the sound washed over us.

  “My name is Corporal Poole, and I’m here as a representative of the Ranger Corps. We’re here to mediate,” his voice was steady, seemingly unaffected by the proximity of the growling predators. “We need to negotiate with the leader of the pack. Are they present?”

  The Lycanroc looked between each other. I almost missed it, but the quick heads turns and eye movements told me that there was some sort of communication going on. Eventually, one of them barked something. I felt like I could almost catch the meaning, but the exact intentions escaped me.

  Philip didn’t get it either, on the first attempt, and he had to propose a few different solutions for the leader’s absence before he hit on the right one. “Sleeping, huh?” the older ranger mumbled. He seemed pleased, and I could see why. The leader keeping a more nocturnal schedule reinforced his theory about a Midnight Form Lycanroc.

  “Well I’m sorry to ask this, but we need to speak with them. And considering I recognize some of you, and I know where your territory is, I’m sure you understand why,” the ranger’s words were firm, and I could pick up the undercurrent of threat in them.

  Apparently, so could the pack of Pokémon. More quick eye motions and head movements, some nervous looks, almost guilty ones, if I was reading the expression correctly. It went on for a bit longer this time, until eventually one of the larger Lycanroc made a motion so abrupt, I was worried they might give themself whiplash.

  A huff came from one of the Rockruff, and the smaller Pokémon darted away, disappearing into a hidden burrow in the hillside.

  A few moments of silence descended on the forest clearing as we settled into a standoff. The whispering wind behind us caused the trees and branches of the forest to creak, and I could feel Clove shift uneasily beneath me. The sun beat down, casting long shadows where the branches and stones intercepted its path, and in the distance, the sounds of other denizens of the forest reached our ears.

  But here, all was quiet. To the point where I was just starting to relax a bit, when the tenuous tranquility was shattered by a howl tearing out of the hillside-burrow. The sound roused something primal in me, and I was immediately placed all the way back on edge.

  The noise was resonant, causing the ground and rocks nearby to shake. It carried notes of irritation and disdain, but it cut off after a few moments.

  Both sides remained tense, waiting for the source of the raucous sound.

  We didn’t need to be patient for very long.

  A head emerged first, partially obscured by a black and white mane, pouring over the edges of a skull made for leering. Next came two arms, long and coated in sleek, crimson fur. They ended in massive, three-clawed paws that the owner used to haul themself free of the burrow. The rest of the Pokémon emerged, digitigrade legs supporting a wire-thin body, corded with thick muscle and embedded stones.

  The leader of the pack cast about, red eyes glowing as they squinted against the afternoon sun. It took them a few moments to adjust to the harsh light, but they finally found the perpetrators behind their disturbed rest. Us.

  The Lycanroc’s eyes narrowed into two gleaming slits. Hostility roiled off the wild Pokémon in waves so thick I felt like I could almost see them, but whether that was from actual hatred, or just irritation that we had woken them up, remained unclear. Perhaps it was something in-between.

  Either way, the loping canid stalked closer, followed behind by a pair of Rockruff, yapping defensively from behind their heels.

  The midnight form Pokémon‘s unfriendly gaze flowed over us, appraising the intruders to their territory. A low, resonant growl came from the tall canidae’s throat. The belligerence was easy to pick out, even with my inexperience, but there were other notes too, nuance that was lost on me.

  Luckily, Philip seemed up to interpreting. “We’re here because you’ve overstepped your bounds, pack leader.”

  The Lycanroc growled out something in response, which only earned a scoff from Philip.

  “You had to know that attacking a human ranch would provoke a response. Did you have a good reason for the brazen assault? Or has a new evolution driven you to hubris?”

  That provoked more than a growl. “Lyc, Lycanroc, Lycan!” the pack leader ground out, punctuated with another haunting howl.

  “Your pack is large, yes, but hardly the strongest. I spot four yearlings, yourself included. Your known territory should be more than enough for your needs.”

  More barks and growls, some kind of negative, by my reckoning.

  “It should be enough because wanton expansion is going to drag you into conflicts you're not prepared for. With us, and with the Pokémon whose territory you’ve unwisely invaded.”

  “Lycanroc.”

  Even I got that one. A simple challenge. Prove your words.

  Philip’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t back away. In fact, he dismounted, getting off of Pauline and bidding the Grass-Type to back up. “If we must,” he pulled another Poké Ball free of his belt, and hurled it up into the air. “Bangalla, show them they’re outmatched.”

  Again, I wasn’t sure what to expect exactly, but I was starting to get an idea. My current mentor’s third partner was a Grass-Type as well, like I’d suspected. At least, I was pretty sure it was. I didn’t actually recognize the species, some sort of two-legged tree-like Pokémon. It had three heads perched atop a brown, trunk-like body, and large grassy fronds that erupted from its apex, like hair.

  “Exeggutor!” The Pokémon roared from three mouths, a one-mon chorus of slightly different tones.

  “One-on-one, you and Bangalla,” Philip propositioned, “until one side is exhausted. If we win, you back off and return to your old territory.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The Lycanroc howled what sounded like a very aggressive affirmative.

  “Alright,” Philip knelt down, descending to the ground to scoop up a rock. He gave it an experimental heft, and then held it up so the Lycanroc could see it. “When this hits the ground, we start. Agreed?”

  One more affirmative, and the older ranger propelled the stone into the air. It hung there for a tense moment, before gravity took it, and the rock descended. Both combatants tensed, then exploded into motion as the signal landed.

  The Lycanroc blitzed forward, wreathed in Normal-Energy.

  Bangalla and Philip kept their cool, neither seeming perturbed by the rapid Quick Attack as the older ranger shouted orders. “Cover setup!”

  A shimmering green barrier appeared in front of Bangalla, protecting him from the Lycanroc’s attack. Even as the Rock-Type was slamming into the Protect, Bangalla was in motion, squatting its legs, and gathering energy.

  The Lycanroc bounced back, but didn’t charge in immediately again, watching warily for how the tree-like Pokémon planned on using the stockpiled power.

  We didn’t have to wait long. Bangalla pumped upwards, legs locking at the Pokémon’s full height. A ball of flaming energy erupted from the fronds above the Pokémon’s head, flying up into the sky and settling there, pouring waves of heated energy down onto the battlefield.

  I didn’t recognize the move immediately, it wasn’t one I’d ever seen before, but watching the effect it had on Bagalla gave me a solid hint. All of their leaves perked up, and their heads, previously looking lackadaisical, even sloven, tightened in concentration. This must have been Sunny Day, triggering some sort of ability in the multi-headed Grass-type.

  The Lycanroc, no longer concerned with the energy buildup, hurled a fusillade of stone at Bangalla, probably trying to bait a Protect.

  Its efforts went unrewarded, however, as the massive tree-like Pokémon easily dodged the onslaught, moving with shocking speed.

  “Finish them,” Philip ordered. A second passed, then two, as Bangalla suddenly rooted themself, taking a few rocks to the trunk for his trouble. Glowing light flowed from the sun-like sphere above, coalescing around Bangalla’s fronds.

  The Midnight Form Lycanroc’s glowing eyes widened, red light spilling out as they almost bugged. The Pokémon dove, hurling itself to the ground as a beam of verdant energy went tearing across the battlefield, barely passing above the Pokémon’s head.

  Bangalla’s claws dug into the ground, keeping the Pokémon from moving as he expended his buildup of energy. Slowly, inexorably, the tree-like Pokémon began lowering his body, hunching over to angle his beam down towards the now-panicking Lycanroc.

  The red canid scrambled, legs and arms windmilling until they gained purchase on the ground beneath. They hauled themselves bodily away from the powerful beam, dodging for a few seconds, until it finally petered out.

  “Slippery one,” Philip said, seeming thoughtful. “Bangalla, lock and knock.”

  I couldn’t see how Philip’s partner responded to his order at first, but checking his opponent revealed what was going on. The Lycanroc struggled, fighting against some sort of invisible bonds. Judging by the slight corona of purple light surrounding their form, and the matching luminance in the gaze of Bangala’s central head, it was likely some sort of psychic power.

  Another beam began charging, energy flowing from the false sun into Bangalla’s frond, two of the heads concentrating on the powerful attack while the third kept the struggling Lycanroc in place.

  The desperate Rock-type raged, muscles flexing and twisting against the psychic hold. After a few moments, Dark-Energy came flowing out the Pokémon’s mouth, freeing its head and neck. The midnight form twisted, biting through the power holding it to free itself, but it was a few beats too slow.

  Bangalla’s Solar Beam took longer to charge this time, but it was a delay he could afford. Before the Lycanroc could free itself, the powerful Grass-type attack slammed into its target.

  The Lycanroc was finally disentangled from the psychic hold, but that did it little good, as the shimmering beam of verdant energy drove the poor Pokémon into the ground.

  The supereffective move left the Wolf Pokémon clearly exhausted. They lay on the ground for a few moments, eyes wide and breaths heaving. I had to imagine that they were low on syn, maybe almost entirely. Still, the wild Pokémon marshalled themselves enough to stand defiantly to their feet once more, even in spite of their wiry chest convulsing with the exertion. Philip watched the pack leader stand with a gimlet eye, before ordering a barrage of Bullet Seeds, probably using the weaker move to minimize the damage Lycanroc would take when it finally ran out of syn.

  The fight was clearly over, almost perfunctory at this point, and I found my attention wandering, checking the attitudes of the pack, trying to get a sense of how they were feeling about the battle. Most of the spectators were watching with what looked like… embarrassment, maybe? I couldn’t exactly tell, but the other Lycanroc mostly looked chagrined. One of the Rockruff seemed more upset, or maybe angry, at their evolutionary form’s performance. The other… I couldn’t see actually.

  I checked my memory, going through my count of the pack. There had definitely been two Rockruff, trailing the Midnight Form Lycanroc out of the burrow, so where was the other one?

  I cast around, trying to spot the missing canid. I almost missed them, their craggy coat camouflaging them against the ground, but a hint of movement gave the prowling Pokémon away. The Rockruff had snuck around the perimeter of the battle, staying low and moving slowly, to avoid attention.

  Its efforts had been rewarded, and it was now less than fifteen feet away from Philip, definitely close enough to launch some sort of attack.

  I felt myself tense, as I slowly moved my hand to my knights’ ball. I fixed my gaze on the Rockruff, but it wasn’t looking at me. No, it only had eyes for Philip.

  The older ranger was distracted, he didn’t have any sense of the danger he was in, so it was on me to act.

  The little Rock-Type tensed, clearly about to pounce, and I reacted. I threw my partners’ ball, with the landing point between Philip and the lurking Rockruff. “Knights, stop them!” I shouted out, and my knights obeyed faithfully, charging forwards to intercept the leaping Rockruff, Tackling it and knocking the wild Pokémon back.

  The flash of light and the sudden scuffle drew the attention of the pack, and an enraged howl went up. The sound shocked me into I looked over at the bristling Rock-types, only to rear back in alarm at the enraged gazes of the pack. Stones began rising out of the ground, ammunition loaded, and almost ready to fire. I frantically tapped Clover on her left ear, but I hardly needed to bother, my mount already tensing up to defend herself and I.

  Before violence could erupt, however, a shout came from Philip. “Bangalla, Flash!”

  A burst of white light erupted from the Grass-type, dazzling everyone’s eyes and forcing any prepped attacks into aborting.

  “Alvida, what the hell?” I heard Philip shout, as I tried to blink my vision clear. He sounded mad. Really mad.

  “Sir, one of the Rockruff’s was trying to sneak up on you. I sent out my knights to make sure they couldn’t,” I told him, gesturing towards where my partners and their impromptu opponent were both blinking stars out of their eyes.

  My vision began to clear, and I could see the older ranger glaring at me. He looked as mad as he sounded, but his voice had turned calm. “Recall your partner,” he told me, voice low, before turning to the pack, who themselves were regrouping after the Flash. “Is this how your pack treats an honorable duel? Trying to sneak up on a trainer while their partner fights?” he asked them.

  The only sound in the clearing for a few moments after the accusation was the snap-hiss of my knights’ ball, recalling them into its safe confines.

  The Midnight Form Lycanroc immediately growled out something laced with rage, their muzzle pointed towards me, and I fought the urge to flinch back under the exhausted Pokémon’s accusatory gaze.

  Philip merely raised an eyebrow. “Yes, she released her partners, but if you ask your pack, I’m sure some of them saw this little troublemaker attack first,” the older ranger pointed at the Rockruff in question, who looked up guiltily as they were pointed out.

  Their body was low, and they were obviously slinking their way back to the pack’s side of the clearing, but sure enough, some of the other Lycanrock, particularly the ones with faded pelts and cringing expressions, nodded to their pack leader’s unspoken question. The little Rockruff stopped, eyes stricken. They’d been caught red-pawed.

  The pack leader turned an incredulous eye to the smaller Pokémon and rumbled out another interrogative. The pup’s hackles rose, and the returning barks sounded defensive to me.

  Now the Lycanroc’s growls were accusatory, and the Rockruff was starting to look pitiful, tears forming in their eyes.

  Before the haranguing could continue further, Philip interrupted. “See? You can’t beat Bangalla here, and you can hardly control your own pack. How do you expect to expand your territory and protect them when they don’t listen to you?”

  The Wolf Pokémon’s eyes flashed, red gaze turned towards us once more. For a moment, I thought that Philip had gone too far, his words driving the pack leader again to violence. Instead, the Pokémon puffed up, drew in a deep breath, and then deflated. The hostility drained out of the canid, as they hunched over, eyes no longer glaring at us. They seemed… contemplative. And maybe a little sad.

  “Lycanroc,” the Pokémon said, voice tired. They turned to the other members of the pack, and more of that silent, nonverbal communication the Wolf Pokémon seemed so effective at passed between them. Glances and head movements traded back and forth rapidly, until eventually, the Midnight Form Lycanroc huffed, in a way that reminded me a lot of how the Rockruff had at the beginning of this encounter, when instructed to go wake their evolution.

  The Lycanroc let out a mournful howl, and nodded at Philip. “So you’ll take your pack back to your old territory?” he asked, making sure.

  The noise the Pokémon made sounded sullen to me, but Philip took it as an affirmative. “Alright, I’ll trust you to your word.”

  Another huff, but the fight was out of the Lycanroc. The pack leader called out to the errant Rockruff, and the rebellious pup returned to the pack, tail between their legs.

  As I turned to Philip, and saw the murderous glare he was giving me, I felt a rush of empathy for the Pokémon. They weren’t the only one in hot water at the moment.

  -

  “Private, do you realize how easily that could have turned into a disaster?” We’d trotted a ways away from the pack, at least out of earshot. Apparently, Philip really did trust the Lycanroc to hold their word.

  “I thought you were in danger, sir,” I tried to explain, fighting the flush in my face. No one likes getting yelled at. Philip's words were in an even tone, but I could tell. You can always tell. “I was just acting to protect you.”

  The older ranger didn’t look impressed. He turned and patted Pauline on the head. “Was that Rockruff going to attack me?”

  I felt a rush of indignation. He was doubting me!

  I was a bit vindicated, when Pauline made a vaguely affirmative noise. The pair’s follow-up cut the legs right out from under me, though.

  “And were you keeping track of them?” He asked her.

  This time, Pauline’s bleat was definitely an affirmative.

  “And would you have protected me when they did attack?”

  Another positive noise.

  He turned to look at me, eyes boring into mine. “Pauline is trained to watch my back, whereas I very distinctly remember that all of your training tells you not to act in the field, correct?”

  I hated the way he was talking down to me, like I was a stupid kid. “I was just watching out for you,” I tried to explain.

  “I asked you a question, Private,” the older ranger countered. “Are you supposed to act in the field for any reason other than to get yourself out of danger?”

  “No.” My reply was sullen, even to my ears.

  “Protecting me isn’t your job, Private. We all have our responsibilities. Mine is to keep you safe, and to teach you what to do in the future. Yours is to listen, learn, and stay out of danger,” the older ranger’s tone became biting. “Instead, you almost messed up the entire mission.”

  “It wasn’t going to be that bad,” I started, but Philip cut me off.

  “If Bangalla hadn’t had the right move ready to forestall that engagement, we may have ended up fighting that entire pack. If none of those Lycanroc spoke up to corroborate your story? Same thing. If we’d been dominating that battle a little less? If your partners had seriously hurt that Rockruff? If, if if, Fe.”

  I felt myself cringing further and further with every repetition of the word, as the narrowness with which we’d navigated that encounter finally started to dawn on me.

  “Your actions put me in danger. Worse, it put you and our partners in danger. And worst of all, it put the pack itself in danger, from us. We were this close to having a potential catastrophe. Do you understand that?”

  The last few sentences were almost a shout. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Lycanroc and Rockruff could hear us. My face was burning, and I knew that my efforts to fight off the flush had been in vain. I couldn’t force out any words, so I nodded mutely, instead, while fighting the impulse to look away.

  The older ranger held my gaze for a few moments, and then deflated, the anger leaving him like it had never been there. “Look, Fe. We have an important responsibility, to each other, and to the Pokémon we interact with. If I can’t trust you to follow instructions, I have to recommend to the Sergeant that we discharge you. Am I understood?”

  I swallowed thickly. It took me a few moments to work up a response, but eventually I was able to croak out a, “Yes.” My voice was oddly hoarse, and I felt my eyes stinging. I forced them to stay open. I knew if I blinked, I would regret it.

  “Okay. Okay, good,” Philip sighed. “Look, we all make mistakes. That’s okay, as long as we learn from them. I’m– I’m sorry for shouting. Your heart was in the right place, but you need to listen to your head, Fe. That’s why we’re training you.”

  I nodded, mutely, and dug my fingers into Clover’s grassy mane as Philip continued, “I’ll talk to Janine about it, but as long as we’re on the same page, I don’t think any disciplinary action is necessary. Now come on, let’s get back to base.”

  Pauline started moving, with Clover following in her wake. Philip turned away, facing forwards to help his partner navigate through the woods. Now out of eyeshot, I discreetly rubbed my face with my red jacket. The material felt rough on the skin around my eyes.

  It wasn’t very absorbent, either.