PopcornPie
Dazed, confused, but chugging on.
"Ouch! No, please, stop!" A pale Zorua was overwhelmed by the usual horde of Zubats. They bit her, hit her with their wings, even confused her. She could only run in circles, smacking into stalagmites. It was a bloody miracle that she'd managed to lose them; quite literally, because their bites had drawn blood. She was aching all over. How could being a Pokémon be so difficult?
Unsure of what to do with herself, the tiny black Pokémon limped through the forest, her heart jumping to the side with every Pokémon who hissed at her. Perhaps it was because they could sense that she used to be human. But why didn't they help, if that was the case? Weren't Pokémon naturally good at heart? Didn't anyone want to at least tell her where she was?
This particular Zorua still called herself Millie, but wasn't sure how much longer the name would stick.
Unsure of what to do with herself, the tiny black Pokémon limped through the forest, her heart jumping to the side with every Pokémon who hissed at her. Perhaps it was because they could sense that she used to be human. But why didn't they help, if that was the case? Weren't Pokémon naturally good at heart? Didn't anyone want to at least tell her where she was?
This particular Zorua still called herself Millie, but wasn't sure how much longer the name would stick.