A Gastly Hunting Expedition

Energy: 26 - 10 = 16

Zorre stood at the entrance of the Pricklemist Hill dungeon, sniffing the air carefully. He knew that he had to impress his companion if she was going to let him join her Exploration Team -well, it was more of an 'Outlaw-Catching Team,' but they were still called Exploration Teams... he shook his head. No need for the circular, confusing thoughts while they were on a mission. They were currently tracking two Gastly that had been attacking innocent pokemon. The thought made him want to growl and slash at something; outlaws made his blood simmer with anger.

He looked over at his sneasel companion. "Ready, go are you to?" he asked Crysel.

Crysel had come with her bag, just in case she needed it for items she found on the way. You could never have too many supplies for when things got really dangerous. She actually preferred the wild over the towns of pokemon. It was quieter for one. And it just felt natural to her. Like it was where she belonged you could say. Of course there was an element of danger, but wasn't that all part of the natural order? Survival of the fittest and Crysel made sure she ended on top. "I am ready. You will take point. Careful though. Gastleys are ghost types, so they can show up anytime, anywhere. Physical objects do not hinder their movement so be on guard."

(Energy 29/39)

Zorre nodded at Crysel's words. He knew that his usual techniques were not going to be very useful against the ghost types. Only his most powerful technique, a screeching vibration of bug energy, would be even remotely effective against the ghost types, in fact. He knew that his physical techniques couldn't even touch ghosts, so he would have to rely on his bug buzz. He sniffed the air for any trace of ghostly aura. He had noticed that ghosts had a unique scent that reminded him of the cold of a corpse, yet the sharp, burning scent of poison. As of yet, he could not sense a ghost anywhere. He moved into the dungeon, eyes narrowed and senses open.

Crysel followed and kept her own senses alert. Even though she was letting Zorre lead the hunt, this did not mean she was leaving it all up to him. Her senses were a bit more attuned than the bug type's. She was made for tracking down scents. Sneasels and weaviles hunted their prey in groups and took them down. Bugs were... well they were bird food and birds were sneasel food. Their natural skills toward predators and food were just suited for needs they had. However, sense of smell was not everything. A hunter had to also pay attention to their surroundings. Note any strange changes that would lead to one's target. Zorre would have to show these qualities to catch the Gastley.

Zorre continued his cautious walk into the misty dungeon. He kept his senses open, scanning the surrounding areas carefully. After walking for a while, he halted, crouching down to examine a patch of scorched grass. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the area. There were several scorch marks in the grass, as well as a single tattered bag, laying on the ground with its flap open. Zorre walked over to the bag and nudged it with the blunt edge of one of his scythes, revealing the bag to be empty. Zorre sniffed the air, catching a slight whiff of ghostly scent. "Here, been, have they," he said to Crysel quietly. "Thieving, they been have," he growled indignantly.

Crysel looked around, studying the clues. "Judging by the size and amount of scorch marks, I put the size of the victim as small. And looking at the pattern of burns, an ember attack. So the mugger saw the victim as weak and was able to succeed and defeating them. The victim, still conscious, crawled away. The smelling of burning is all but faded. Not too long ago, but not too recent. We are on the right track at least.

Crytic carried out 1 launched of one Pricklemist Hill :

Crytic carried out 1 launched of one Pricklemist Hill :

Crytic carried out 1 launched of one Pricklemist Hill :

Zorre nodded at Crysel's words, looking around and sniffing at the air. She was right; there was still a slight burning scent in the air, mostly dispersed by now, signifying the length of time since the attack. He scanned the ground, noting the drag marks here and there, from where something had scratched against the ground.

"H-hello?" a weak voice called out. Zorre's head whipped around towards the sound. He walked towards it carefully, wary of an ambush. Behind a small dip in the ground lay a Fletchinder, one of its wings twisted in an unnatural way, and many of its feathers singed around the edges. Still wary of an ambush, Zorre walked towards the fire bird cautiously, his scythes half-way raised in readiness of an attack.

When nothing jumped out at him, he neared the Fletchinder more. "Happened, what?" he asked, looking around, still wary of an attack.

"I was attacked!" the Fletchinder gasped out. "I was just minding my own business when two Gastly jumped out at me and attacked. They stole my bag with the berries I need for my children! They're very sick and now I can't even fly home! Please, please can you help me?" it cried out.

(Energy 29-6=23 left)

Crysel had come over to the bird, but let Zorre handle info gathering. Birds... did not like Sneasels getting close. Wild Sneasel were known to distract parents and letting others in their groups snatch eggs to eat later. At least in forests. From what she could remember, Crysel grew up in a more snowy area with no birds around. At least not enough to practice a selective diet like that. She did however listen.

Once done, Crysel sighed and went to pick the bird up in one hand. "This will hurt, but I need to set your wing." Crysel was as gentle as she could be as she bent the wing back in place. The bird cried out, but Crysel quickly fashioned a sling made out of leaves for the wing to be held in. She then carried the fire type up a try and hid her on a branch, hidden among the leaves. "Hide here. We will be back with your berries. Concentrate on healing and you'll fly home once we get back."

With that, Crysel slid down and pointed in a direction. "We are on a timer now. They went this way. Let's go."

Zorre was semi-relieved when Crysel took charge, helping the bird by resetting her wing and hiding her in a safe place until they retrieved the Fletchinder's berries. He nodded at Crysel's directions, and headed in the direction that the sneasel pointed in.

He looked back at Crysel as they continued on their way towards the Gastly Duo. "How know you that to do?" he asked, referring to the resetting of the bird's wings. "healing, know not, I how."