The legendary Tom (Pokémon fanfic)

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Written by Daisy

Night time was the best time for stray Pokémon. It was when the scorching heat surrendered to the onshore breeze and Pokémon could be outside without the need of hiding an inch of their skin. The stars would come out and greet the night-time creatures in the hours of comfort and relaxation. The humans would sit, heads tilted towards the sky, observing the constellations and patina of the moon. their chatter would go on until the small hours, always with the backdrop of soft shrill of shaymin's in the lush flower fields. Whilst the grass type Pokémon's skipped around under the film noir curtains of the navy sky, which brought out spies from the shadows and dames that shun the sunlit hours.

From every doorway curled fiery smoke, arcing lazily into the black, from where a charizard and a blaziken had once pounced in blazing rage on the cracking tarmac pitches under the storm-cloud, thick air drenched with the promise of rain.

Sometimes it's not what it seems. Haunters drifted along the darkness hat brought the primal nature to the fore, a heady trance for the duskull's that pressured feeble dwellers for dominance and power of their own.

Oh, yes. The night-time belonged to the small and large. To the meek and ferocious. To the thrill-seekers and haughtily reserved. But with only the starlight and waxing moon for light, with the blackness almost complete, the star fall was only fitted for the Pokémon. The woods were a tangle of roots on which to trip, a maze of paths to be lost within; even with torch light it was a journey only made under the greatest need.

But. Tonight was different. Winter dripped onto Autumn and froze it like a glacier of droplets of frosty Autumn memories. The wintry evening stretched across the snow coated prairies that was once ruled by daylight hours, now charcoal and hued. The flying Pokémon were silenced, nothing walked the grassy lowlands, the only serenade being the ever present cars that flashed past the motorway in the distance. Though the sky was littered by twinkling stars and beams of shooting comets, it was masked by the chilly air that's harsh wind could bite through the thickest of coats. Down below a small creature strode ungracefully through the attacking snowfall. In the blizzard there was no way to know which direction to go, the usual landmarks were hidden behind the white that swirled so densely.

The small Pokémon was nothing than a crude outline erased mostly by the storm. His fur stood on end. Wind had left its mark in the form of small bumps on his pale skin that was tingling on his four limbs, but its bite was more than flesh deep. His blood ran cold through his veins and his bones were chilled. He could feel his blood freeze and his fur create crystals of frost. He shouldn't have come, not in this weather. Disorientation was a given; and the cold was a killer. Especially a newly born kit. The kit bowed his head until his wet chin touched his shaky chest, his small frost-bitten paws sunk drastically into the ankle-deep snow. Each stride he took caused his tremulous muscles to root in excruciating pain that tore deeper into his flesh as his straining strength ebbed away into the silver scream of the blizzard.

It wasn't long until his sharp, scrawny ribs were pierced with biting numbness as the engulfing icing brushed against his thin-lined stomach. As his stomach, once more, burst in a hunger-seeking roar that rang in his icy ears, he lifted his head up in a quiver to the heavens and prayed,

'Please, oh please. Your honour, tell me where i must go. My legs are weak, my organs are spitting spasms of pain through hunger, and my fur has split through the course coldness.'

His desperate mews were muted through the screaming winds and wailing spiral of daunting specks of snow. Turning his small head back towards his path, tiny needle-like teeth clattering uncontrollably and face scrunched up as the icy wind blew at his stinging face, he didn't hesitate to admit to the obscure scenery that he was lost. All four walls of once complex atmosphere that was veiled with light, fluffy clouds and drooling sunshine that drowned away the artificial streetlights, it was all erased, all gone. All embedded in the thick white coat of freezing snow. He felt overwhelmed by the fast dropping crystals that sprinkled across the land in a large clump of confetti. The kit struggled as he tried to keep his heavy balance on his twig-like legs that buckled under his shivering body.

He was to die.

He was not alone, though, he was one of many Pokémon in the world and the world was full of interesting things to see, to touch to feel, to keep any mind anchored in time and space. But as the white flakes whirled around him in an angry vortex he was as alone as he would be in the bleakness of space and cold, so cold. He had anticipated the coldness and the sting of driven snow on his face, but not the ferocity of the wind and how the light blinded him. It was like walking into a fresh page as the fibres were still being laid down, threatening to make him part of the scenery instead of a Pokémon of his own rights. To save his eyes from the blinding white he narrowed them until they were almost shut, and all the while the wind raged without end, only reducing its ferocity long enough to gather the strength for another attack.

teeth clattering uncontrollably, blood rushing hoarsely through the veins that cobwebbed his ears as they lay firmly flat on his small head, his fur was blown back like a parade of dancing string that knotted each other in a tangle of woven covers. His paws had no content of warmth, instead frozen and stiff. Frost had laced his whiskers into shards of ice and his tail was nothing more than a subdued branch as he slowly struggled to proceed with his head bowed down to the whistling rage.

All his heart could do was beat warm blood around his veins in a hope that the storm will end, all his mind could do is plan the most logical path to warmth, safety and to something more tangible than light and snow. Once more, did his legs shake with endured force to keep his stagnant upright as another wave of flakes pelted against his frozen cheeks, clung to eyelashes and fur. Numb exposed skin, pain on his rubbery pads, creating an exhausting chore to break a trail through accumulative snow drifts.

As if the heavens had heard the contempt kit, his grieving wish. Just ahead lay a small cave. Its entrance kept safe due to the way it faced away from the silver storm.

And with another prayer done, he would definitely not be alone, as a pair of luminous green eyes engraved their selves into the fusty darkness of warmth.