Warrior Eevees #1: The Storm of Fire

12- The Sky Tribe

Emmy hunted once more with Sycamore when the sun rose, and then Rogue stooped down to allow them both to climb onto his broad back.

"I'm rested and refreshed, and ready for another day of flying!" he announced. "How about the two of you?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," said Sycamore, bravely forcing a smile.

"I'm all set," Emmy declared, settling herself down in Rogue's thick feathers.

The big bird took a few running steps, tossed his wings up and down with such ease it almost looked casual, and Emmy felt the swooping sensation as his talons left the ground and his wings caught their weight. Then the wind was beneath them, and in a few moments, the hill behind them was a speck in her vision. Rogue banked into a warm thermal rising up from the ground and spiraled around it lazily to gain height before turning out of it to glide easily over the landscape.

Roads, Emmy realized, suddenly spotting the thin black ribbons that wove through the landscape, splitting the forest in half. She couldn't see too clearly from where she sat, but the brightly colored specks that zipped along them were surely cars.

I don't drive often, she had said many times in a language she both knew and had forgotten. She had said that a lot, because most of the time, she flew everywhere on Rogue's back, just like she was today.

It's faster and there isn't any traffic, she would say. She struggled to remember who she had said that to, desperate for a face to remember, but was pretty sure that was something she would tell anyone who asked. Grateful to have remembered anything regardless, she sank into Rogue's feathers with the intent to see if it wasn't possible for her to stretch out across his back.

Suddenly, she felt him slow, beating his wings to hover in mid-air.

"Large collection of Umbreon and Espeon below," he reported. "Should we check it out?"

"Yes!" Sycamore exclaimed, temporarily forgetting his fear of heights to leap forward and look.

His fur bushed out and he backed down to Emmy, looking really quite ill.

"I shouldn't've done that," he mumbled sheepishly. "I can't see anything down there, but Rogue's eyes are better than mine."

"Yes, Rogue, we should definitely check it out!" Emmy instructed.

"All right, hold on, I'm going to be going into a bit of a stoop here," Rogue warned.

"What does that mean?" Sycamore whispered, but Rogue had already tilted his wings down to gain speed and loose height, falling in a tight spiral toward his target on the ground.

Emmy saw Sycamore's claws unsheathe as the wind picked up. She found she didn't mind the motion, and like many things about Rogue, it was even familiar. A wild rush of a memory, laying flat over his neck as he dived straight down, an irreplaceable thrill- and then his talons were digging into the turf, flapping his wings and squawking indignantly as a Dark Pulse flashed by his head.

"I'm just trying to talk!" he shrieked over the hissing and growling of the gathered Pokémon.

Emmy slid off of his back to land on all fours next to his claws, staring in awe at the sight.

They had landed in a scruffy little wood out of eyesight but well within earshot of a human road. The bushes and trees here were stunted and small, and rattled in the wind as if they were struggling to find enough to eat. The ground was mostly bare of grass and undergrowth, and objects Emmy was starting to recognize as litter floated across the landscape on the breeze.

The gathered group of Umbreon and Espeon was quite small, smaller than the Forest Tribe, but each of them bristled with power. Pitch-black fur and golden rings, gleaming eyes, and pure white teeth adorned about half the group. The other half seemed more striking to Emmy, with their smooth purple coats and flashing red forehead gems.