norway
a white butterfly
”I’m surprised you didn’t utilize any type advantages in this battle! I lost to a grass type in my own grass gym! Here’s your gym badge, best of luck against the league."
The battle had gone faster than expected, though slower due to Fiona believing she could still win, even with a neutral typing battle. Grass against duel grass. It was about intellect and superiority this round, not so much special bonuses or advantages. She didn’t want to come in with the obvious typing advantage every battle, that seemed boring. Plus, Ferris seemed eager to show the little pollen bugs that were Milos team who was in charge here. Who was she to deny him the honor?
Fiona replayed the rumbling stadium scenario in her head, stepping through the receding doors back out into a sunlit Turffield town. His Eldegoss has such grace and poise, and was a perfect sport for the whole battle - it seemed to accept defeat while never questioning its strength, and Fiona found that incredible and inspiring. She had told her partner Pokémon to remember that form of integrity, and he seemed to ponder on that even after being recalled.
Manure and floral aromas fought to fill her lungs as she stood there, her hiking boots crunching against the nutritious soil beneath her. She stood at the doors, slipping her hands in the pockets of her simple black hoodie.
Milos face was hardly obscured beneath tousled red curls. He seemed to shine through the stadium that slowly became aglow again with proper lighting post battle. “You look a little tired, make sure to get some rest after this amazing victory, kid.”
“I get plenty of rest, I won, didn’t I?” the brunette assured herself quietly, clicking her newly acquired badge into its puzzle piece like socket and then moving away from the gym. “Who sleeps the night before their first official league battle, anyways?” She refused to acknowledge she blinked sleepily after the statement, stifling a yawn and pretending it wasn’t anything at all.
The town itself wasn’t particularly bustling today, aside from a few appointed battles with Milo at the stadium which people could come and watch for moral and entertainment. Only so many were allowed to be scheduled each day and every week, to allow him proper time to rest alongside his team which were a duo of hard workers. When Milo wasn’t battling hard he found reprieve at his farmhouse, tending to the fields which was the common job here in the towns community. Rolling fields brown, wheat colored and green stretched out impressively far with small wells, composts and then the more stand out trademarks which were the landmark stones most tourists came here for.
Fiona had looked at the stones for about five minutes. History wasn’t really her thing, unless it was about the Arceus god itself. Galar was so riddled with history and important scenes from the past, she supposed she had become a little desensitized to it over the years.
“I’ll leave the enthusiasm to the tourists,” she smiled a bit as parents and their kids ran up slanted hills for photographs. It was a foreign scene and not something she was familiar with; but with resolve she dismissed the lack of nostalgia, and turned any direction but towards the familial scene. “Now, to stock up before I leave.”
Farmer markets chimed with small bells announcing their open business, while small Pokémon and children ran around advertising (or stealing) berries in the open stalls. It was a small gathering, but very lively, and the only real sounds aside from distant cries from wooloo, miltank and mudsdale.
A woman cried “that bird just stole my berries!” And Fiona saw a wingull with a beak full of fruit attempting to quickly get away. What she wouldn’t see were the zigzagoon and nickit prowling beneath wooden stalls to pick up anything that fell over.
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