Post by Discordancy on Jul 12, 2011 19:53:35 GMT -8
Almost absent-mindedly, Dragon resettled her bag across her shoulders. The minor discomfort of bulging supplies was nothing compared to the spectacle of the Forest; the raven-haired young woman wanted to see - and hear - every inch. The more she paused to think about it, the more she realized that she'd never been quite this deep into the mystical woodlands before. Never close enough to see the people her mother claimed still...fell?...into the region, and certainly never close enough to see the Shrine. So, by rights, she had never really been able to investigate the lab, either.
Until now, of course. Now she was off on this massive journey, that had to start with the very place she'd spent a large portion of her kidhood just itching to see. Her bag was shifted yet again, this time to accommodate the sudden arrival of a Nincada - she greeted the unsettled creature warmly once the shock wore off. The Pokemon muttered some whisper-thin apology for lighting on her pack that Dragon happily excused, adding in just as kind a murmur that the Bug-type could stay there just as long as it liked. "I'd better start getting used to Pokemon around me all the time, anyway," the girl continued, musing aloud to the quiet insect, "since I'm supposed to be a Trainer now. Can you imagine! Only me, Pokemon, and the rest of the region before me. Free to do anything - free to be anyone~ It sounds wonderful, doesn't it?"
The Nincada let out an encouraging hum, containing no words that Dragon could discern. The girl laughed at her own silliness. "I guess it's nothing much to you, is it? Pokemon get to be wild all the time." She frowned over her shoulder, unable to tell if the milky-white pokemon was still back there. "I'd get to be, too, if they accept me. They don't turn away Trainers, do they? Do you suppose there's some kind of test?" The idea brought with it a whole new wave of Butterfree-in-her-stomach. Mom had mentioned a professor, hadn't she?
Lifting an arm, the would-be trainer pulled back the hem of one of her fingerless gloves. Across the wrist, in positively miniscule slanted writing, was the name she sought. "Mayvia. That's what it is. I'm supposed to be on the lookout for Professor Maevia." The glove was smoothed back into place with another lingering frown. She knew that she was only prattling at this point. If only she weren't so nervous about this!
"...I hope she's one of those professors who grades easy."
Until now, of course. Now she was off on this massive journey, that had to start with the very place she'd spent a large portion of her kidhood just itching to see. Her bag was shifted yet again, this time to accommodate the sudden arrival of a Nincada - she greeted the unsettled creature warmly once the shock wore off. The Pokemon muttered some whisper-thin apology for lighting on her pack that Dragon happily excused, adding in just as kind a murmur that the Bug-type could stay there just as long as it liked. "I'd better start getting used to Pokemon around me all the time, anyway," the girl continued, musing aloud to the quiet insect, "since I'm supposed to be a Trainer now. Can you imagine! Only me, Pokemon, and the rest of the region before me. Free to do anything - free to be anyone~ It sounds wonderful, doesn't it?"
The Nincada let out an encouraging hum, containing no words that Dragon could discern. The girl laughed at her own silliness. "I guess it's nothing much to you, is it? Pokemon get to be wild all the time." She frowned over her shoulder, unable to tell if the milky-white pokemon was still back there. "I'd get to be, too, if they accept me. They don't turn away Trainers, do they? Do you suppose there's some kind of test?" The idea brought with it a whole new wave of Butterfree-in-her-stomach. Mom had mentioned a professor, hadn't she?
Lifting an arm, the would-be trainer pulled back the hem of one of her fingerless gloves. Across the wrist, in positively miniscule slanted writing, was the name she sought. "Mayvia. That's what it is. I'm supposed to be on the lookout for Professor Maevia." The glove was smoothed back into place with another lingering frown. She knew that she was only prattling at this point. If only she weren't so nervous about this!
"...I hope she's one of those professors who grades easy."