Wandering To Nowhere

The Icy Lands were a challenge for many explorers. Whether it was from the impossibly cold climate or the impossibly powerful opponents, many found the areas as challenging as the Eastern Desert. Mordred had only traveled such areas once in his time as an explorer and had experienced the horror that were these lands first hand. He didn't like them at all; Climate, pokemon, and just the fact that it took him way longer to get used to the location due to having been raised in hotter climates. However, he at least took confidence in his ability to maneuver in mountainous terrain.

The only problem: Cold climate and mountainous terrain didn't really mix as well as he had first assumed. Shivering, the scraggy tugged his hood over his head in order to block out some of the snow and powerful breeze. If it weren't for the thick skin he wore, he was sure he'd be a goner at this point. However, his torso, arms, and face were still exposed and definitely weren't fairing well in the harsh weather. The scraggy steeled his courage, refusing to die in such a place. He came here to train, Arceus-damn it! He wasn't going to let a little storm blow him away. Such weakness would be greatly unbecoming of an explorer, and in a test like this, it was vital that he did not fail.

"I-i-it's j-j-just a little ice. . ." He mumbled to himself, his breath appearing before him like white mist. Under the thick blanket of snow, his feet wore on. He felt relieved that the blanket wasn't any more thicker, else he'd have to resort to swimming up the mountain. He rubbed his hands together for a minute or so, generating some temporary warmth to keep him going. His conscience was screaming at him in such a state, asking repeatedly why he was participating in such rash training. Mordred was much too tired to argue back in his mind, though knew full well why he felt so obligated to finish this trip.

Such a harsh environment, as unforgiving as it was, would be seen as nothing more than a hassle to the ordinary traveler trying to make their trek through this world. As such, places like the Icy Lands would more often than not be skipped if possible. However, no matter how dangerous this snowy landscape could be, it had its..charm. In the midst of sharp blizzards, tough native inhabitants, environmental hazards and much more, the beauty hidden underneath the snow blossomed and thrived, showing itself only to the most persistent. Then again, one needs to take the time to look past it all in order to see...

That is exactly what one such pokemon was doing, a male Zangoose to be specific. The normal type was seen standing still on one part of the mountainside, looking out in the distance in silence with his back against the rocky wall that the mountain consisted of. The wind howled strongly and the snow blew down neverendingly around the male. However, the male showed little if any signs of being effected by the cold. It probably helps that the male constantly has his own "coat" of fur, along with the scarf he always carry with him, no matter where he goes. Still, the bit of cold the male could feel was numbed by his mind as the Zangoose crossed his arms.

"The icy touch..." the male thought to himself, absorbed into his pondering as his gaze pierced through the snow. "Its....a comforting feeling....But why...?..." Frost added a glaze along the surface of a pair of glasses, resting on the bridge of the male's nose. It didn't hinder his sight by much, then again the male wasn't really trying to "stare" at anything specifically. "Is it....because of how familiar the feeling is...?...Or....maybe it is just my imagination...?....Either way....I probably shouldn't dwell too much in it...Or else I might leave myself open..."

Perhaps oddly for a naturally desert dwelling Pokémon, Douglas revelled in the feeling of the chilled atmosphere stinging the back of this throat and the inside of his nostrils. It reminded Douglas of the minty burn of the Chesto berry. Douglas had always liked the cold, so long as it wasn't attacking him. It was the reason he relished the underground, second to only how easy it was to be antisocial when hidden in a cavern beneath the sun kissed dirt of the surface. The peak of the mountain was surprisingly flat, allowing the Sandshrew to stand comfortably as he rested from the climb. Though there was nothing at the peak, the feeling of complete abandonment of civilization pleased him.

As the adventurer blinked through the sleet and snow falling on the peak. He wished it was a clear day, so he could admire the visa the crest would have provided. Seeking the view carelessly, Douglas stepped slightly forward to the edge of the mountain.

Unknown to the Sandshrew, the edge of the face of the mountain he had elected to move onto was not supported by solid rock like the rest of the peak. The treasure hunter sunk quite suddenly into the drift. This compressed the snow below, resulting in the delectably formed crystals of ice to lose their equilibrium and split from the rock face. Now without a literal leg to stand on, the madcap ground type realized he was falling through space and quickly grabbed his hat as the situation escalated into a problem.

“I should not have done that. I should not have done that.” Douglas muttered as he curled himself into a tight ball of scales.

Some fortune remained on his side, however. The treasure hunter had fallen on the area of the mountain that was facing away from the wind, meaning there was little snow, reducing the chance of an avalanche to a minimum. This did also mean that the drop was larger and that the ground would be undoubtedly hard; as would be the landing.

“I have decided I dislike this mountain.” The armadillo breathed as the planet rushed up to meet him.

The scraggy kept his focus on the ground, watching as his feet sunk into the snow. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind was growing numb, and his eye was already growing tired. He blinked a few times, shaking his head simultaneously in order to keep himself awake. While he may not have been an expert on illnesses, it didn’t take brains to understand that falling asleep would be like handing yourself to death’s awaiting hands. He rubbed his stubborn eye, finding such a task even more troublesome with the wind and snow against him.

Continuing a few more paces forward, he finally gave in and decided to rest. He sat down on the snow, facing his back against the wind to lessen his irritation. He took a deep breath, allowing the freezing air in. He observed his surroundings, having realized that he had been so caught up in trekking that he hadn’t properly distinguished the environment. It was still difficult to see thanks to the weather, but the dark type could tell that there wasn’t anything noteworthy about his location at the moment. Just mounds of snow, a large mountain wall, and not a single trace of any inhabitants. Not really as interesting or exciting as he had expected, but he knew he wasn’t supposed to complain. He was already having enough trouble climbing up as it is.

He brought his satchel closer, brushing off the snow that had clung to it. On the flap clung his Explorer badge, remarkably unharmed save for a few scratches on its surface. The scraggy felt a little better at the sight. He opened the bag, rummaging around in search of a Blast Seed. Although seeds usually tasted horrid, he was aware that a Blast seed would be able to create fire in times of emergency. After a brief minute or two of mindlessly moving around the contents of his bag, Mordred cursed. It appears he had left it, rendering his previous idea useless. Sighing in disappointment, the scraggy closed his bag. Well, it seems like his only option would be to climb quick and escape quick. Sitting Indian style, he rested one elbow on his knee and placed his head on his hand. He pondered for a while, trying to think up of ways to survive this mountain without a fire source. Caves would probably be a good option, though he didn’t know if wild pokemon would be lurking in them . . .

Just then, he heard a peculiar sound. Rushing snow and something . . . rolling? Maybe tumbling. As he continued to listen, he realized the noise was getting stronger. The source was coming closer and closer, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shot up from the ground, turning around quickly to see what was approaching. He squinted, trying to decipher what was rolling down the mountain amidst the blizzard. It seemed to be yellow, though covered in snow. Before he could react and evade the oncoming hazard, he was hit hard.

Soon enough, he was tumbling down the side of the mountain along with giant ball. “Ow, OW, OW OW!” He said as they descended, getting hit by both the ground and the hard sphere.

With a sigh, the normal type adjusted his scarf over his nose as he soon turned from his staring off into space to see if he can find an uninhabited space in one of the small hovels etch into the mountain by nature. Its not much, but any respite from the sheer cold and fierce winds would make any grateful for the shelter. However, before the Zangoose took a step forwards to start his search, he felt a sudden rough vibration underneath his feet. Even with the snow being a sort of absorbent with the disturbance, the fact it was strong enough to still be felt made the male already on edge. His eyes darted here and there, prepping himself for whatever happens but working through his mind what the source was...What he knows though is, whatever it was though, it was fast and it was coming towards him.

Ears perked to the sound of thuds, rolling, and the muffled sound of someone's voice. Eyes narrowed as his head quickly turned to the direction the sound was coming from, making out a figure in the snow rolling towards him. When it gotten closer, he could see it was a large ball with more and more clumps of snow starting to attach to it as it rolled down, along with something seen sticking to the side of it. The male would probably sweatdrop to the sight if it wasn't hurtling towards him right now. He could move to the side, but he wondered what would happen if that ball gotten even bigger when it made its way all the way down, not to mention if there were pokemon stuck to it already considering the voice he heard before...He needed to bring this thing to a stop...NOW... Moving a foot back, the male leaned forwards just a bit, his left hand starting to glow as the male waited for the ball to come close...

Waiting...Waiting as the ground trembled more and more to the object's acceleration. It did not take long for it to reach the male with its speed, growing a bit larger with more snow. Eyes narrowed on the male, the scene starting to slow down more and more to a crawl when the object was only a mere few feet away from the male...Too close for the male's comfort, but it was a needed risk, the male's brow furrowing.

(It howls....calling...searching....huntin.....Night....SLASH....)

Sights of line marks seen in the air for a moment in front of the ball, noises resembling sword swings ringing through the air as the Zangoose suddenly appeared on the other side of the ball with a bit of an afterimage in his motion. His face was covered in shadow, the glow from his arm fading as the male started to stand up straight. The ball suddenly started to slow down as clumps of snow was suddenly seen falling off from it and landing ahead in a large mound before it suddenly split into two giant halves of snow. The male turned his head to the sight, keeping quiet.

Douglas hit the ground below this a crunch of scales and the splintering of stone echoing around him. The whiplike crack was accompanied from a gasp of pain as the adventurer tried to hold his defense. The impact was angled, setting the ground type off down the mountain, literally bouncing down the slope. This prevented his momentum from building up too much and also stopped snow from gathering on his descent. He peaked out of his hide whenever he felt he was at the top of his bound.

"It's just as well Ah ain't no snowball." He said as the sight of endless white lay out before him. If the adventurer had been rolling, not only would he be traveling insanely fast but he would be picking up snow and becoming the center of an avalanche. His situation was a double-edged sword, however, with  he sandshrew cursing as he arced over a soft looking hill of snow.

"Ah coulda used that..."

Then, as Douglas' luck would have it, he spied a figure figure standing stoic in his path.

"Gain way!" Douglas called from inside his shell, predicting correctly that his trajectory intercepted the lonely Pokemon.

The two creatures met at high speed, Douglas launching up into the unfortunate bystanders chest. The treasure hunter felt his tight ball of control open as his momentum was affectively halved and his mass doubled.

The two beings slid and stumbled downward, cursing and exclaiming with pain as Douglas' fear became reality. As the snow gathered on the pair, true rolling began to take place. The conglomerate sphere of ice and Pokemon literally snowballed out of control.

The ball grew in size as sleet and hail compacted onto the outer shell, soon reducing Douglas to no senses beyond his own panicked breathing, the ache of bruised and possibly broken bones and the sound of his sudden companion's exclamations. The speed they seemed to be rotating at was dizzying, the armadillo feeling his stomach churn. Even for one accustomed to rolling, this was too much.

Then inexplicable, the snowball that housed Douglas and his acquaintance spilt open and disintegrated as the adventurer slid down further, crashing into a rocky outcrop.

As he lay in the snow, shocked and feeling broken, Douglas went over his "had an accident" checklist.

"Limbs..." He moved his arms and legs, then touched each in turn.

"Backpack..." He was laying on it so it was there.

"Hat..." Douglas patted the top of his head, feeling his eyes widen as he touched he bear scalp. "Hat!"

Suddenly filled with desperate energy, the digger swam through the snow, his paws dragging put divots of crystalline water. The frantic search caused ever injured muscle and tendon to shrike with agony.

"Need mah hat."

He persevered, locating it 4 feet down past the stopping point of his quick descent from the peak of the mountain. Douglas sat and pulled it down hard onto his head.

"Got mah hat. Drop down for a sec..." He said, falling backwards.

In the upside down world he saw something coming closer. He tried to roll over, but the treasure hunter was passed his limit. His vision narrowed as they took a step toward him.

"Ah swear, if yous an outlaw..." The ground type managed, blacking out at the end if the sentence.