The End

47 - Fire Island

47 – Fire Island

The little wagons rattled to a stop, letting the various pokemon climb down onto the soft snow. Cleo followed the heatmor down off the wagon and joined the other pokemon who were rushing to put up tents.

"How are you managing this?" she asked Old Red. "There are no suitable trees to hold up the sheets."

"Oh, we don't need trees!" Old Red leant on his walking cane and smiled at her. "Watch and learn, my dear girl."

Cleo turned to watch the group of pokemon as they threaded long, slender sticks of wood through loops in the dark blue sheets, each one going from corner to corner. These sticks were stuck in the ground, holding the fabric up so it looked like a tiny hill. A single split ran up the sheet, not quite reaching the top of the arc, providing an entrance.

"Wow." Spark stood open-mouthed. "How come we never thought of that?"

Old Red chuckled. "It's a simple but effective way of building a tent."

"Is there any way we can help?" Cleo asked him.

Old Red shook his head. "All the duties are covered. You just relax."

"Nonsense. We need to repay your kindness somehow." Cleo reached into her bag but the old kecleon's wrinkled paw stopped her.

"It's okay." He grinned. "You don't owe us anything. Just stay, relax. It's a blessing to have warriors stay with us, especially ones from the Fairy Garden." He turned his grin on Faith and the mawile beamed.

"It's a blessing to be staying with such warm and welcoming pokemon like yourself!" she said.

Old Red chuckled. "Why thank you, Faith. Why don't all of you take a seat?"

The travelling Outcasts were huddling together around the little tents. The two rapidash had spaced themselves out to offer their heat as much as they could.

"Don't get too close," the gogoat instructed the little skiddo, "perchance your leaves get burned off."

The rapidash duo laughed and shook their fiery manes, but the skiddo fixed them both with a pair of frightened eyes, deciding instead to sleep beside his mother.

"Our flames won't burn you," the younger rapidash told him. "We have more control over them than you'd think."

"Oh good!" Spark approached the speaker, a berry in her paws. "Can I sit on you then?"

The rapidash laughed and shook her head, nodding to a spot by her hoof.

Cleo and Faith joined the dedenne, finding a spot of green grass amongst the snow. The fire pokemon's bodies had melted it away, providing a warmer surface for their friends. Many curious eyes remained fixed on the small group as they tucked into their meals, holding within them many unasked questions.

"This seems a little strange," Spark whispered to Cleo. "I mean... what do we do? Entertain them?"

"This evening is a splendid one!" Old Red's voice cut through them, drawing all attention to himself. "We have a small travelling party with us today, as I am sure you are all clearly aware. And wow, do they have some stories to tell us!"

"We already heard a few," said the heatmor, a tongue of flames flicking from his mouth.

"Yes, but those in other wagons did not." Old Red flashed him a smile.

"Well, I'd request something new then." The heatmor crossed his arms behind his head and leant back against a rock. "Then you can tell the other ones later?"