The moon. Luna. The glowing cream ball stationed so high in the ebony sky. She is like the piece of opal that somehow merged with the obsidian. The glittering stars are those that she guards, her children, sparkling pieces of their radiant mother.
Why am I so drawn to that orb? I can always tell when she is out, and she always lends me strength. Day or night, she is there for me. I am dark and moody when the moon is new, but I am lively and energetic when it is full.
Mother never was good at explanations. Neither was Father, or Master. All I knew was that one day a man came. He called himself Gregory. He said he trained foxes and dogs. I didn't know what he trained them for until he took me away from my family, my life.
After that day I knew nothing but training. I was trained to follow the scent of Vulpix. Never Teddiursa, Vulpix. Not Caterpie, Weedle, Venonat, Ursaring, Paras, Kangaskhan, Pikachu, or Heracross. VULPIX!
Sometimes it was hard. The Vulpix were smart, merging their trail with that of another Pokémon, retracing their steps, walking in circles, walking along logs, anything to get us off their trail. Usually her trail. But always I prevailed. I was usually beaten afterward for maiming the creature, but that was none of my concern. I wanted only to seek out the weakling foxes, hunt them down, and kill them, tasting their warm blood in my jaws, hearing their death screams ringing in my ears.
It took me months to notice it, but eventually it hit me. I was growing weaker. The moon still lent me strength during the hunt, but I guess I wasn't getting enough food. I was far too noble to beg Gregory, so I went out at night, snapping the chain that bound my collar with a single Bite attack. I went out and hunted. I chose Paras, for their vitamin-rich mushrooms and tender flesh beneath the exo-skeleton. When I was satisfied I returned. Sometimes I even brought a bit back for Scent, the Growlithe chained beside me. She was growing weaker as well, and had been brought in sooner.
And then one day we are brought out for the hunt. All of us. Growlithe and Houndour alike. Usually we hunt apart, live apart, since we were prone to attacking each other. But then we all notice the other thing that is new.
There are other humans. They ride on Ponyta and Rapidash. Many are wearing red and black and cream clothes. My colors. The colors of my species. Others wear red and black and silver. Houndour colors. The color of the enemy.
Three things especially catch my eye: One is a girl mounted on a large Rapidash, who seems far too young to be here. She can't be more than eighteen. She wears a black helmet and black boots, as well as the red blazer, but her pants are cream on one side, silver on the other.
The second is the Growlithe on the unicorn before her. It has stripes running across its eyes like a mask, and every streak was of new garnet, dark but with a reddish tint.
The third is the Houndour mounted behind them both. It is as large as the Growlithe, who is quite a bit larger than me. The armor covering it is thick and strong, it seems, and the colors of its coat are vivid and flashing.
Then they catch sight of me. I walk forward to the Rapidash's side. The Growlithe suddenly jumps down before me. It sniffs my muzzle, then…
It licked my cheek. Nothing ever touches me without paying for it! I snap at the creature's shoulder. A deep wound appears, but the Growlithe doesn't respond.
That only makes me madder. I leap forward and hook my jaws onto the creature's neck, just over the windpipe. I am ready to clamp down, to sever the delicate tube, when I feel something grab my neck. Powerful jaws are clamped around me, ready to sever my spine at a moment's notice. I hear a deep growling from behind me.
"Houn-dou-dour," it growls. The voice is deep, indicating a male. He tells me to let the Growlithe go.
I hear Gregory approaching. I am slightly relieved, though I don't need him for anything.
"Hey, get your Houndour off my Growlithe!" he shouts.
"Your Growlithe was the one who first attacked mine," the girl replies calmly. Still I hear her take a breath. "Hot Streak, Blazer, come back here." I feel the Houndour release me, and I feel the other Growlithe easily escape my grip. I snap again to get the creature's neck back in my mouth, but he has already jumped back aboard the flaming unicorn.
Then I see the black boots. I look up into the face of the girl, but she isn't paying any attention to me. She is focused on Gregory.
"Take this Growlithe out of the hunt," she says.
"What!? I'm not taking Mauler out!" Gregory yells. The entire area is quiet, waiting to see what the outcome of this skirmish will be.
"Then give him to me," she says firmly.
"WHAT!?" He is screaming now. "I'd never give him to you! Unless you give me a good price, of course."
"This Growlithe is malnourished, dehydrated, and overly aggressive. He's been beaten and mistreated and needs a better trainer. He wants to kill," she replies, still just as calm as if nothing had ever happened. Then she looks down at me. I take a step back, startled, though I really shouldn't be. It's just that her eyes…such a pale blue, like water almost.
She bends down and stretches her hand out to me. I know I smirked as she did this. I darted forward and grabbed her hand, biting down with mild force. I felt the girl's blood begin to seep from the flesh onto my fangs and tongue. For a moment she just looks down, slightly surprised. Then she smiles at me, those haunting blue eyes locking with mine. I relax suddenly.
With her other hand, the one that isn't in my mouth, she reaches out and pats the tuft of fur on my head. "I see why they call you Mauler," she whispers.
Well, that's the end of part two. If you want to complain, do one of two things: One: REVIEW THE BLASTED STORY!
Two: E-mail me at lightningbeacon
(Three: E-mail your complaints to your friends and start a big ceremonial flaming of this fic.)
It's up to you. I'd love to hear from any of you, so don't be shy! See ya!
~Lightning-Strike~