The Friendly Battle & Other Pokemon One-Shots

The One Who Moved

I thought I could do it.

I did everything I was supposed to do. I spent my time as in my first form eating, hiding, eating, and hiding. Running away from flyers looking for a quick meal, from poochyena, from trainers like you. I thought, if only I survive this, I'll make it.

I did survive it. I grew, and then I wrapped myself in silk, making a cocoon. And I lay there, immobile. I felt myself changing. I was almost ready to hatch, to spread my wings.

And then you found me.

I knew what I had to do. Withstand you, endure you. Remain motionless until you grew bored or tired or found something new to interest you. I could not move, could not let you destroy me, no matter what trials I had to endure, not matter how I was tested.

But it hurt. Each hit was worse than the last, breaking the fibers of my cocoon one by one. I tried to ignore it, but the pain dragged me back.

Until I couldn't take the pain and moved within my cocoon, shifted so slightly, tried to get out of the way.

You never even noticed it, of course. Just kept hitting until the sound of a ring from something on your belt. Then you left.

That evening, I broke from the cocoon. Pulled myself out by new, long legs. Beat my crumpled wings, trying to stretch them out so I could fly.

Failed. They remain there, dry and crumpled.

And the poochyena are staring at me.