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It had been a long time since she saw snow, but the cold didn’t bother her as much as she had expected it to. It was … nostalgic, even, and that frightened her a little. She had thought it would all come rushing back to her, wave after strong wave, but as she took the long walk back to Tao Village alongside Sierra, the memories returned slowly, like water passing into a sheet of paper.

Also, it hadn’t hurt as much as she had thought it would. That was fine.

Somewhere outside the window, past the houses, beside the fountain, the huge bulking figure sat. Or crouched — she couldn’t be sure from the distance. She had been mildly surprised to see snow falling over the village, but she hadn’t thought too much of it. She had, however, been enormously shocked when she saw the blue dragon by the Rescuers’ treehouse, and the three guild leaders together in some apparent conversation.

Seeing Chill amongst the three had been terrible. She was glad he had gone back up the ladder and into the treehouse before she had walked close enough for him to notice her — she didn’t want him to catch sight of her anytime within the next month if she could help it.

Shion undid the knot on her scarf, hanged the green fabric by her bedpost. She rolled over and onto her bed and gathered the Charmander plushie from beside the pillow as she did. Gazing at the plushie — complete with a hat and a green scarf she had made herself — she felt only worse.

Everything was her fault after all. Chill and the other team — Phantom Nugget or some other strange name she couldn’t remember — had held the Cobalion and the Terrakion off the whole time they had been inside the tower. Sierra had somehow by herself defeated the five rogues who had ambushed them. She was the only one who couldn’t do anything — Chill had entrusted her the Lightstone, trusted her to get it to the altar, and she could only watch it freeze together with the giant altar into a huge icicle. And if she thought of it that way, the dragon who was sitting beside the village fountain now and all the snow over the village, everything, was her fault.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Mike hated her now. Gosh, she almost believed she deserved that.

“Hey Sierra, do you feel like doing anything right now? We haven’t seen snow ever since we moved here.” Shion rolled over to face the Litwick, sitting by her desk in the opposite end of the house. “Sierra?”

The house was small as all other houses in the area were, but plenty of space to fit Shion’s bed and drawer on one end and Sierra’s desk on the other, and an olive green armchair beside Sierra’s desk. Sierra had no bed for herself, but Shion never knew her to sleep — always as she lied about in bed at night, the Litwick would be snug on her armchair with her glowing purple flame, reading a book from the shelf atop her desk she kept constantly stocked with new books. Perhaps all ghost pokemon did that, or perhaps some spent their sleepless night prowling the streets … in search for some unknowing passerby to scare the living daylights out of, but she didn’t know for sure.

Sierra looked around from her chair, kept the quill currently in her hand floating over a sheer of paper. She smiled, just a normal smile.

“I think I’ve caught a cold.”

Shion stared at her for a moment, contemplating that smile.

“I told you you shouldn’t push yourself, but you still went on ahead and fought off five rogues all by yourself. Sooner or later you’re going to overwork your body.” Shion said, but not unkindly.

She laid her Charmander plushie back beside the pillow and got up. She knew she didn’t really mean what she had said, to tell the truth. Back at the tower, when Shion had returned from the frozen altar to where she had left Sierra, the Litwick had been without even a scratch and the rogues had gone. She told Shion she had sent them retreating back down to the lower levels, and sure enough the entire room had seemed pretty much charred … as if someone had set a fire to the entire room, but perhaps that char had been nothing more than a fragment of her imagination, inspired by the darkness of the windowless tower. She had an idea Sierra was very strong — perhaps even invincible — but she had no idea how strong.

And Sierra catching a cold? Never in the years together with her had the Litwick expressed the slightest sign of being sick, not even when she had eaten a steak that looked devilishly like it had been left in the open for months.

Shion opened the bottom drawer of Sierra’s desk and found the clinical thermometer among the Litwick’s neatly arranged array of items — she pretty much had a case of OCD after all — stuck its bulb into Sierra’s mouth. She watched the mercury rise all the way past the fifty mark before she remembered Sierra was a fire type and removed the thermometer from her mouth.

She signed and laid the thermometer on Sierra’s desk. Sierra just smiled.

“I’ll go find Dr Quaak and see what he can do about it.”

*****

part one for event 3
i know im a little rusty with my writing

part one
part two
part three

my team:
Half Winter Downs

this is sort of a continuation to my mission 3 comic

Description
It had been a long time since she saw snow, but the cold didn’t bother her as much as she had expected it to. It was … nostalgic, even, and that frightened her a little. She had thought it would all come rushing back to her, wave after strong wave, but as she took the long walk back to Tao Village alongside Sierra, the memories returned slowly, like water passing into a sheet of paper.

Also, it hadn’t hurt as much as she had thought it would. That was fine.

Somewhere outside the window, past the houses, beside the fountain, the huge bulking figure sat. Or crouched — she couldn’t be sure from the distance. She had been mildly surprised to see snow falling over the village, but she hadn’t thought too much of it. She had, however, been enormously shocked when she saw the blue dragon by the Rescuers’ treehouse, and the three guild leaders together in some apparent conversation.

Seeing Chill amongst the three had been terrible. She was glad he had gone back up the ladder and into the treehouse before she had walked close enough for him to notice her — she didn’t want him to catch sight of her anytime within the next month if she could help it.

Shion undid the knot on her scarf, hanged the green fabric by her bedpost. She rolled over and onto her bed and gathered the Charmander plushie from beside the pillow as she did. Gazing at the plushie — complete with a hat and a green scarf she had made herself — she felt only worse.

Everything was her fault after all. Chill and the other team — Phantom Nugget or some other strange name she couldn’t remember — had held the Cobalion and the Terrakion off the whole time they had been inside the tower. Sierra had somehow by herself defeated the five rogues who had ambushed them. She was the only one who couldn’t do anything — Chill had entrusted her the Lightstone, trusted her to get it to the altar, and she could only watch it freeze together with the giant altar into a huge icicle. And if she thought of it that way, the dragon who was sitting beside the village fountain now and all the snow over the village, everything, was her fault.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Mike hated her now. Gosh, she almost believed she deserved that.

“Hey Sierra, do you feel like doing anything right now? We haven’t seen snow ever since we moved here.” Shion rolled over to face the Litwick, sitting by her desk in the opposite end of the house. “Sierra?”

The house was small as all other houses in the area were, but plenty of space to fit Shion’s bed and drawer on one end and Sierra’s desk on the other, and an olive green armchair beside Sierra’s desk. Sierra had no bed for herself, but Shion never knew her to sleep — always as she lied about in bed at night, the Litwick would be snug on her armchair with her glowing purple flame, reading a book from the shelf atop her desk she kept constantly stocked with new books. Perhaps all ghost pokemon did that, or perhaps some spent their sleepless night prowling the streets … in search for some unknowing passerby to scare the living daylights out of, but she didn’t know for sure.

Sierra looked around from her chair, kept the quill currently in her hand floating over a sheer of paper. She smiled, just a normal smile.

“I think I’ve caught a cold.”

Shion stared at her for a moment, contemplating that smile.

“I told you you shouldn’t push yourself, but you still went on ahead and fought off five rogues all by yourself. Sooner or later you’re going to overwork your body.” Shion said, but not unkindly.

She laid her Charmander plushie back beside the pillow and got up. She knew she didn’t really mean what she had said, to tell the truth. Back at the tower, when Shion had returned from the frozen altar to where she had left Sierra, the Litwick had been without even a scratch and the rogues had gone. She told Shion she had sent them retreating back down to the lower levels, and sure enough the entire room had seemed pretty much charred … as if someone had set a fire to the entire room, but perhaps that char had been nothing more than a fragment of her imagination, inspired by the darkness of the windowless tower. She had an idea Sierra was very strong — perhaps even invincible — but she had no idea how strong.

And Sierra catching a cold? Never in the years together with her had the Litwick expressed the slightest sign of being sick, not even when she had eaten a steak that looked devilishly like it had been left in the open for months.

Shion opened the bottom drawer of Sierra’s desk and found the clinical thermometer among the Litwick’s neatly arranged array of items — she pretty much had a case of OCD after all — stuck its bulb into Sierra’s mouth. She watched the mercury rise all the way past the fifty mark before she remembered Sierra was a fire type and removed the thermometer from her mouth.

She signed and laid the thermometer on Sierra’s desk. Sierra just smiled.

“I’ll go find Dr Quaak and see what he can do about it.”

*****

part one for event 3
i know im a little rusty with my writing

part one
part two
part three

my team:
Half Winter Downs

this is sort of a continuation to my mission 3 comic