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The flight led Chester to the market square.
There were barely people, as everyone was busy with the swarm of bees.
Booths stood lonely and abandoned, pennants swaying in a soft fresh breeze.

“Whoa!”

Ches almost flew into a wooden board, but dodged it in the last second.
Yeah, he could have simply passed through things like this - walls and suchlike are no obstacles for ghost-types.
Ramming into a board whilst carrying honey jars via Psychic, though?
Maybe not so good.

The market square was a good place to hide or to escape potential pursuers. Lots of niches, bulky equipment… a hunt would result in someone getting tangled in pennant chains or other sorts of goods. That was usually the fate of the hunters, not the hunted.

So, even if Pokémon took on pursuit, he would have lost them.

Chester quickly checked behind him. There was nobody.

He felt euphoric.

“Haha, alright! So far so gRKh-” It was already too late when the ghost saw the pink flickers. In the next moment, Ches was dangling in the iron clutch of a very ill-humored Gallade. Given by the snarly expression, the Officer wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Drop the jars. Now.” snarled Druazen. It was a miracle that he hadn’t sawn off the cigarette between his teeth.

Yeah, not a good mood.

“A-ah well about that…” Ches found it hard to breathe- no, wait. He didn’t need to breathe. Then why was it so hard to speak?

“It’s kinda high up you know?” he tried again. “I don’t think the jars would uh… survive the fall.”

They survived the fall.

They plopped down safely on the grass - right next to Ches’ smushed face, which got rammed into the ground.

Description

< | next>>

The flight led Chester to the market square.
There were barely people, as everyone was busy with the swarm of bees.
Booths stood lonely and abandoned, pennants swaying in a soft fresh breeze.

“Whoa!”

Ches almost flew into a wooden board, but dodged it in the last second.
Yeah, he could have simply passed through things like this - walls and suchlike are no obstacles for ghost-types.
Ramming into a board whilst carrying honey jars via Psychic, though?
Maybe not so good.

The market square was a good place to hide or to escape potential pursuers. Lots of niches, bulky equipment… a hunt would result in someone getting tangled in pennant chains or other sorts of goods. That was usually the fate of the hunters, not the hunted.

So, even if Pokémon took on pursuit, he would have lost them.

Chester quickly checked behind him. There was nobody.

He felt euphoric.

“Haha, alright! So far so gRKh-” It was already too late when the ghost saw the pink flickers. In the next moment, Ches was dangling in the iron clutch of a very ill-humored Gallade. Given by the snarly expression, the Officer wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Drop the jars. Now.” snarled Druazen. It was a miracle that he hadn’t sawn off the cigarette between his teeth.

Yeah, not a good mood.

“A-ah well about that…” Ches found it hard to breathe- no, wait. He didn’t need to breathe. Then why was it so hard to speak?

“It’s kinda high up you know?” he tried again. “I don’t think the jars would uh… survive the fall.”

They survived the fall.

They plopped down safely on the grass - right next to Ches’ smushed face, which got rammed into the ground.