The Friendly Necromancer

This stories theme song.

This is an informational chapter, for anyone who wants more context on some of the real-life activities shown in the next chapter (Chapter 10). Specifically kulning (a form of herding call), spinning thread, and transhumance (not transhumanism). This can be read alongside or after the following chapter, or not at all.

Kulning

Examples: 1, 2, 3

Kulning is a very loud, high pitched, far-traveling herding call set to a general musical tune used by herders in parts of Scandanavia. But that understates ... well, basically every part of it.

Kulning is loud. At maximum volume and point blank range, it can be as high as 125 decibels. To put that in perspective, your typical jet engine is between 120 and 140 decibels. For those who don't know the decibel system, that means a max volume kulning is 3x louder than the quietest jet engines, and only 30x as quiet as the loudest jet engines.

Kulning's sound profile is also weird as hell. The highest frequencies in it are way above human hearing. There's also a repeating profile to its frequency spectrum, the ultra-high frequency patterns look just like the merely high frequency patterns. This does two things. First, higher frequency sound experiences less loss as it travels through the air, so it just naturally travels far.

Second, sound has this thing called a nonlinear high-frequency response. It means that ultra-high frequency sound can be down-converted into high frequency sound by its interactions with air. So even after the human-audible high frequency sound has been eaten up by the air, the ultra-high frequency sound is still going, and being converted down into human-audible high frequency sound of the same pattern as the original human-audible kulning.

The result of which is that kulning travels way further than ordinary sound should. Kulning can be heard 5 kilometers away, or an hour's walk. That's so far the lag time between the sound starting and reaching you can be a good quarter of a minute.

So ... yeah. Kulning. Bashak uses it as a herding call because it works.



Spinning

If you want to know more about the role spinning thread might play in the life of a transhumant like Bashak, who lacks easy access to modern amenities through most of the year, I highly recommend this historian's blog series. He also references much more detailed books, for those who want to take a deep dive.

Now hopefully I describe what the spinning process looks like adequately in the story. But if you want a visual, here's a video of distaff and drop spindle spinning.

But why spinning? you might ask. Why is Bashak spinning, and not knitting, or crocheting, or doing some other portable wool related task? Heck, why isn't he just idling? He's a herder, right, isn't that what they do while watching their flock? Well, for most of recorded human history (prior to the invention of the spinning wheel in the late middle ages), textile production consumed an enormous amount of time. Like, most of the labor of about half the population. And of that textile labor, spinning thread consumed ~85% of the labor hours involved.

So for any person who makes their own clothes from scratch and is too mobile most of the day to use a spinning wheel, they're going to spend a huge amount of time spinning thread. Like, every single spare second where they're standing still and have both hands free.



Transhumance In The Pokemon World

Transhumance (or being a transhumant) is simply the practice of being a herder who migrates with one's flock on a seasonal cycle. For those who live in North America (or other areas where US factory farming practices have been exported, particularly parts of South America), this may seem quaint and outdated. But it's actually still a common practice basically everywhere else in the world. The only real difference is that modern transhumants are more likely to transport their herds long distances by train car than by foot.

In the pokemon world I'm establishing, this is the dominant form of raising herd animals. So many farm pokemon are described as needing extensive personal care and companionship to be productive, or even to evolve at all, that factory farming just doesn't make sense with pokemon. Of course pokeverse transhumants are more likely to transport their herds by e-storage pokemon transporters than by train car or by foot. But other than that, all the advanced technology of the pokemon world hasn't really done anything to replace transhumance as an agricultural style.

Furthermore, the pokemon world as I envision it is much more fragmented and less explored than our modern world. The extreme danger of wild pokemon regions and the care with which they need to be inhabited (if they can be inhabited at all) means humans hit the internet age before spreading to all corners of the earth, not after. This means that many places where humans live are still 'on the frontier', and it's not uncommon for infrastructure in such regions to simply not extend to transhumants' migratory herding spots. So many transhumants, like Bashak's family, get by without immediate access to modern trading networks and products during much of the year.

Which is how in a world with pocket dimensions and matter transporters you still get migratory herders who hand-craft their own clothing from scratch.

Chapter 10: Another Friend!


Herdier is a light brown canine Pokemon with a short snout. Its face has long cream fur, which forms a mustache and a three-pointed crest. Its ears are large and perked, and it has a black nose. It has shaggy dark blue fur covering its body and a short tail. This hard, thick fur serves to protect Herdier from attacks. It has four short legs, with three-toed paws.

Herdier is very loyal, smart, friendly, and it will help its Trainer raise other Pokemon. Herdier is a natural choice as a helper Pokemon for trainers, though it will not obey anyone who disrespects it. Herdier has been theorized to have been the first Pokemon to have been partnered with humans, based on what has been discovered on the walls of caves.

-----

It pained Diya to get up before the sun so soon after the long midnight trek which had started its journey. And it pained it almost as much to let go of the big stuffed Piplup it had curled around during its sleep. But the last thing it wanted to do was to disappoint its new potential friend. And it was nervous about that, if it was being honest with itself.

The younger trainer felt like it had a lot to prove. June, and presumably her friend Bashak too, were older than typical journeyers. June was in her late teens and had probably finished her primary education already. Heck she might even be in her very early twenties, for all Diya knew.

But the body and mind Diya had inherited were on the young end of the journeyer spectrum. The boy had only been in his fourteenth winter. And even if having the mind of a mature Banette changed things somewhat...

Diya was still a child, in many ways. And it had the courage to admit it to itself that it was worried June's friend would think of it as a child. That he would look down on it. If it really looked deep and asked itself the hard questions, maybe it was even worried that a bad impression on Bashak would cause June to think less of it too. They'd known each other their whole lives after all, and Diya was only some new kid June had just met.

There was a lot of pressure on it to get this right.

So even though it was sore and bleary eyed from the early hour, Diya got up promptly to the sound of its new pokedex's awful electronic alarm. It brushed its teeth, gently prodded Svartis awake, took a shower, gently prodded Svartis awake again, got all of its cool new gear together, gently prodded Svartis some more to keep her awake, and double-checked its equipment.

Pokeballs, storage balls, backpack, food, water, boots, fancy new hat, Svartis-concealing cloak, new scarves - oh, which new scarf should it wear today? Even though it was keenly aware of the early meeting time it had to keep, Diya took its time selecting its scarf. Aside from the lighter purple trim its new outfit was fairly drab and dark, so any color would stand out and make an impression. And it did want to make a good impression.

Diya eventually picked a bright green scarf with yellow sunflowers. It was bright and cheerful, and that was a good impression to make.

Did it have everything?

The young trainer cast an eye towards its big plush Piplup. It could just leave its sleeping companion here in the hotel room for the day but … Diya rummaged through its cloak pockets until it found the storage ball with its camping supplies in it. It pressed the button and materialized them in a flash of red light, unzipped the sleeping bag and stuffed the Piplup in. Then it zipped the sleeping bag back up and stored it all back in the ball.

There. Diya would feel better knowing it wasn't going to come back and find its precious plushie missing somehow.

Svartis slipped under her trainer's cloak on their way out the door, pulling herself together into a lazy amorphous blob under the cloak. She wasn't up for stirring it into any unearthly fluttering at the moment and Diya sympathized. It remembered what dawn had been like as a Shuppet. The moment of the day when the sun shown anew had always fiercely drained its strength when it was a bodiless spirit.

After a quick breakfast of pokecenter noodles and broth, and a couple carefully devoured handfuls of blueberries, Diya set off for the edge of Canopy Town. It checked its new pokedex's map, fiddling with the unfamiliar interface. June had said Bashak would be … there, right? Hopefully his camp wouldn't be too hard to find.

It was that hard to find, in fact. For all that the boy had taken regular wilderness survival lessons growing up in Ledos Village and Diya had inherited his experiences, Diya couldn't seem to find Bashak's camp.

The young trainer was starting to get nervous when a Herdier, a small dog pokemon, came racing up to it through the snow. The Herdier had a face and underbelly of brown fur, with a lighter brown beard of longer fur dangling down their chin. And on their back, standing out against the snow, was a coat of long blue hair so dark it almost looked black which bounced as they ran. Diya giggled softly seeing the little pokemon run. It almost looked like they had a cloak just like Diya's!

The Herdier zoomed up to Diya, coming up just taller than its knees, and without slowing launched themself into a series of tight circles around Diya's legs. They brushed the Banette's cloak as they ran, letting out a series of rapid barks which carried through the forest.

A short set of high whistles drifted through the forest in answer.

The Herdier barked loudly once more before suddenly coming to a stop in the snow, planting themself on Diya's left side. They looked up at the young trainer, beard fluttering with their panting breath. They barked to Diya three more times with a quieter and deeper bark which Diya felt in its chest. Then they turned around, raced a half dozen meters off to Diya's left, turned back around, and barked again.

Svartis stirred under Diya's cloak. What was that noise? she grumbled.

A Herdier which was going probably to lead them to Bashak, Diya guessed. That or … well, okay this was definitely Bashak's Herdier. Diya had no idea what else could be going on. The Banette set off following the Herdier, who obligingly dashed forward through the snow, pausing every dozen meters to turn around and wait for Diya to catch up.

They had to walk for a few minutes before they came across Bashak's camp. But once they got there Diya wondered how in the world it and Svartis had missed it. When it was told that Bashak was camping outside of town the picture its mind had formed was something flimsy and temporary. A small fabric tent, a fire pit dug a few meters away from it, and a log dragged over to sit on.

The actual camp Diya found looked like it might weather a winter storm better than some of the houses in town. The tent was a dense squat circular thing of layered white wool felt and it looked like it might be heavier than some of the trees it was nestled between. It was large too, tall enough for an adult to stand upright if they weren't claustrophobic and wide enough to pace inside. And the peak had a small opening that a chimney was sticking out of. That was a tent someone could light a fire and cook inside.

The snow had also been swept away from the tent half a dozen meters in every direction and built up into something resembling earthenworks. Broken sticks had then been stabbed into the waist high packed snow, pointing outwards. They weren't sharpened to points but the message to any wandering pokemon which might want to investigate the tent in the night was clear. "Don't."

And sitting in front of the tent was the boy Diya assumed must be Bashak. He was seated in a comfortable folding chair of wood and dyed blue felt, sipping from a steaming metal thermos. He was wearing layers of heavy brightly colored wool, all greens and reds and golds, embroidered with abstract patterns to the point where the decoration must have weighed as much as the base material.

At a first glance it looked too fancy for practical work clothes and Diya wondered if maybe this wasn't the herder it was looking for. But then at a second glance Diya realized the boy's coat was actually quite rugged. It wasn't a thing of delicate embroidery, it was the kind of handmade clothing made to last many years because it needed to last that long. It was decorated to such a degree not to be ostentatious, but because when someone only had the time to handcraft a few outfits they put everything they had into them.

The Herdier circled around to a gap in the broken sticks of the snow wall and leapt over, racing to leap into the boy's lap. The boy held his thermos out of the way in a clearly practiced gesture, moving it clear of the Herdier's charge. He grunted softly at the impact. "Good job Greta," he said softly, scratching behind her ears. Then he turned in his seat to face Diya. "You're Diya?" he asked. "I'm Bashak." He pronounced it baas-haak, with a faint trill on the h which hadn't been there when June had said it.

Diya nodded. It was pretty sure June had told the other trainer it was mute, but it waved its pokedex just in case to remind him. At his answering wave to come closer Diya did, following the Herdier's -Greta's- path.

It got a better look at Bashak as it did. The boy had unusually pale skin, to the point where the snow-glare had given him a light burn rather than tanning him. His brown eyes were framed by heavy solid glasses. And -Diya had to hold back a giggle- he had a big mop of unruly black hair which looked exactly like Greta's 'cloak' of black fur.

As Diya approached, Bashak set his thermos down on the ground and held Greta to his side with one arm, pushing himself upright with the other. And … oh. Oh. As he stood Diya's eyes followed Bashak up. And up. And up.

Bashak was big .

His face was youthful. Where June could have been anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five at a glance Bashak was clearly in his late teens at most. But that didn't stop him from being two meters tall if he was a centimeter. Heck if his youthful face was any indication, he might still grow even more . And clearly at some point in the boy's development his body had asked itself, "Should I fill this frame out with muscle or fat?". To which the boy's genetics had answered, "Why not both?".

June had not told Diya that her friend was a giant.

The giant held out his hand to shake, which Diya reciprocated without thinking. Its hand was swallowed up by the bigger trainer's. "Hello Diya. It's nice to meet you," he said in a voice that was surprisingly not so deep as to reverberate in the younger trainer's chest.

Diya nodded likewise until it could take its hand back and type out, <Nice to meet you too!> Then, more sheepishly, <Sorry if I'm late, I had trouble finding my way.>

That drew a snort from Bashak. "June gave you directions?"

<Yes.>

"There's a reason I sent Greta to find you."

Diya snorted, giggling a little in the back of its throat. <Ah. I will keep that in mind.>

The older trainer scratched Greta behind the ears with his free hand and then set her down. She circled his feet twice enthusiastically and dropped down next to him, eyes fixed attentively up on her trainer. "She was good?" Bashak asked, "Not too pushy? No nipping?"

Diay didn't know much about training herding dogs, but it thought she'd been great. <She was great! All business, but not pushy. The moment she showed up I knew to follow her. She was patient too.>

That brought a broad happy smile to Bashak's face. He smiled, leaning down -down, down, down- to scratch her behind the ears again. "Good girl." He told Diya by way of explanation, "It's good to hear that. We're aiming for the Canopy Gym search and rescue badge."

<Neat! Are you training for any other Canopy badges?>

Bashak started to shake his head, then paused. "Well. The winter survival badge, but-" he gestured at his encampment. "Not worried."

The ghost trainer snickered and Svartis caught on to the sentiment and laughed a little herself. <But you seem like such a city kid!>

That earned a bark of laughter from Bashak. "Hah! No. We live in June's town only for the winter. And spring in our mountains can be worse than this if it's a bad year."

Diya believed that wholeheartedly. A few inches of snowfall and temperatures below freezing were as bad as it got on its island. Though -Diya swallowed heavily- even that could be enough to kill when someone wasn't prepared.

"What badges are you after?" Bashak continued, turning the conversation back towards Diya. Diya eagerly seized on the conversation.

<Winter survival, absolutely. That's very important to me. And> Diya thought to itself. It hadn't actually put much thought into what badges it would get in Canopy Town, only to getting here in the first place. <And search and rescue.> Its ability to taste pain and fear would probably be useful there. <And ice battle too, if I can catch combat pokemon or Svartis turns out to be a good fighter.>

"So all of them," Bashak remarked with good humor.

Well … <Yes.> Diya confirmed. <Except grass battle. Wrong season for that, obviously.>

The bigger trainer looked around with a raised eyebrow at the snow-covered landscape and snorted. "Yeah," he said amusedly. Then he looked back at Diya. "Speaking of Svartis though, introduce us?"

With an encouraging mental prod from its trainer, Svartis flowed out from the neck of Diya's cloak, forming a body next to her trainer's head. Greta's ears twitched and she tracked Svartis with her eyes but at a gesture from Bashak she relaxed. She kept a lazy eye on Svartis, but only a lazy one.

Say hello, Svartis, Diya prompted its pokemon. "Svvvaaaaartiisssssss," the Gastly hissed, grinning widely and baring her tiny fangs.

Bashak's lips twitched. He straightened up -stars and shadows he'd been slouching and still been that tall- and bowed slightly. He crossed one arm over his chest and inclined his head, leaning forward. "Hello Svartis, spirit of snow. I am Bashak, a herder. I am honored to meet you." He smiled as he bent forward, keeping his eyes fixed on Svartis.

Svartis grinned wider, flying from Diya's shoulder to dissolve into a blurry mass of purple gas. She circled the taller trainer's head twice before flowing back to her perch and reforming over Diya's shoulder, still grinning. I like him, she informed Diya. His soul tastes of happy pokemon.

With one hand Diya reached up to pet Svartis' semi-corporeal body, and with the other it typed out a message. <She likes you.> Diya informed the other trainer. <A lot.>

"I'm glad," he said in response, still smiling. "It's not every day one meets a spirit strong-willed enough to come back from death. Extending some respect is the least I can do."

Diya cocked its head. Bashak was much more talkative than June had led him to believe. It wondered if maybe he wasn't the silent type so much as he was the type of person willing to let other people fill silence. To June the two would certainly be indistinguishable. Diya giggled under its scarf at the thought.

As it was thinking about that Diya typed, <It wasn't the respect that made her like you though. She says your soul smells of happy pokemon.>

"Really?" he asked, and oh . Suddenly it was very easy for Diya to remember that Bashak was a teen too, in spite of the boy's size. The look on his face could only be described as a childlike wonder and delight. He smiled and his whole face lit up like the sun.

<Really.> Diya confirmed. The Banette's soul senses weren't quite the same as its Gastly's, but what it could taste from Greta at least confirmed Svartis' assessment. The Herdier at Bashak's side was totally devoid of any grief so far as Diya could sense. Not even boredom.

"Well," Bashak said, glowing with pride, "it's not every day you get such nice news. Let's make the most of it. Ready to help me catch some Swinubs?"

The Banette nodded enthusiastically. Of course it was!

"Good, just one moment please." The herding trainer folded up his chair and walked over to his tent, slipping the chair inside. Then he pulled a black storage ball out from inside his jacket. It was an expensive heavy load one, with two white stripes on the top to signify its greater capacity. The ball cracked open and the whole tent vanished into it, leaving behind a flattened circle of grass. "We can go now," he told Diya.

<You're not coming back here?>

"I am. This way no wild pokemon get in while I'm gone."

The Banette had a sudden image of going to school in the morning and instead of locking its front door, packing the whole house up into a storage ball. The image was so bizarre and sudden it couldn't help but laugh. It cackled behind its scarf and shared the mental context with Svartis, who cackled as well.

Bashak raised an eyebrow. "Share the joke?"

The Banette did, typing as best it could while laughing. It didn't expect Bashak to find it funny, it was kind of a 'you had to be there' joke. But it got to be surprised when Bashak did laugh, throwing his head back and laughing even harder than the Banette.

<?>

Through his laughter Bashak told her, "That's actually what we do, when we're up in the mountains."

<Really?!>

"We should walk and talk," Bashak said, setting off at a steady pace Diya had to race to keep up with, Svartis and Greta following close behind. "But yes. Why bother locking up your shelter when you can pick it up and take it with you?"

<What about at night?> Diya walked fast for a few steps to get out ahead of Bashak and show him its pokedex. <Surely you lock up then?>

"Mm," the herder hummed as he ducked under a branch. "Hard to lock a tent flap in a way that'll keep an Ursaring out. Best way to stay safe is numbers and watchdogs."

<Numbers and watchdogs?> Diya prompted when he didn't continue.

"Yeah. My pokemon sleep with me in the tent and I've got a pair of Chansey who trade watches."

<Chansey are combat pokemon?> As it typed the Banette's face twisted into a grimace under its scarf. It was hard to walk through the snowy forest and type at the same time, especially when it had to keep pace with the other trainer's much longer legs. It kept having to type short inadequate sentences and jog ahead to show them to Bashak.

"No, not really. Not for trainer battles anyway. Still useful against predators though. They've got great hearing and they're sturdy, makes 'em hard to kill in an ambush. And their songs will disorient an attacker long enough for the herd to wake up and fight back."

Diya glanced back at Svartis. It wondered how she'd do in a similar role. Ghosts' soul senses were hard to hide from, and the Gastly's gaseous body was difficult to injure. And her soul smog … hm. It would really have to experiment with her to see exactly what it did in a fight. Just seeing it in the phantom world made Diya sure it would affect a living pokemon's soul, and it knew the classic symptoms of Gastly poisoning, but it didn't know how quickly or intensely.

Bashak followed its eyes. "Svartis, she's new right?"

Diya nodded.

The other trainer's eyes narrowed a little in thought. "Ever fought with her before?"

Diya shook its head.

"After the Swinubs then, how about we spar and see what she can do?"

<Not before?>

Bashak raised an eyebrow, "Hm?"

The Banette slowed so it could type better and was relieved when Bashak slowed too, <If we're going to spar, shouldn't Svartis and I practice before we fight the Swinubs?>

That earned Diya a very confused look from the other trainer before he suddenly started laughing. "Hahahaha! June didn't tell you what we were doing, did she?"

<Catching Swinubs?>

Bashak only laughed harder. "Yes, but not like that. I'll show you what we're doing when we get there. Just don't attack the Swinubs." The older trainer set off at speed again, fast enough that Diya had to put away its pokedex to follow. Diya huffed and puffed its way after Bashak. Its body was in good shape, but Bashak was in great shape and Diya needed a step and a half for every stride the taller trainer took.

The sun was just making its way clear of the horizon when Bashak finally stopped. He'd led them to a clearing on the top of a hill. There were not any Swinubs and, judging by the pristine snow, had not been any Swinubs for at least two days.

Diya said as much, fumbling out its pokedex and opening up the texting app to grouse, <I see no Swinubs.>

Bashak laughed again, a good natured sound which Diya couldn't possibly imagine being used for mockery. "They're not here yet ," the herder told his companion. "We'll bury some food in the snow and I'll call them. They'll hear the call, get curious, come, then stay for the food. Though I've been doing this for a few days, hopefully they know kulning means food now and will come quick."

<Kulning?>

Bashak smiled. "Herding call. Like this." The herder shifted his posture to stand straighter. He projected his chest out a bit, held his head parallel to the ground, sucked in a deep breath and- Bashak coughed slightly and deflated. "Oh, uh, you may want to cover your ears."

On the ground next to Bashak's feet, Diya noticed Greta had flattened her ears to her skull and folded her paws over them. Prudence told Diya to learn from her example and it covered its ears with gloved hands.

That earned it a nod and a faintly heard "Good" from Bashak. The herder breathed in again and- "HWIEEEEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOUAAAAAAA YEEEEEEEEEEEEE HOOOOOOUUUUUUU!"

The sudden blast of noise caused Diya to flinch so hard the Banette jumped clear into the phantom world. Blessed silence came with the transition between worlds, marred only by a faint high-pitched ringing in Diya's ears.

Stars and shadows that had been loud! And more than loud, it had been unnaturally high pitched. When Bashak had said he was doing a herding call Diya'd imagined something deep and sonorous, not a piercing whistle blasting straight through its hands into its skull!

Bashak was staring at the spot where Diya had disappeared and blinking rapidly when the Banette phased back into material existence. "You … vanished," he said. Greta let out a concerned yip to voice her agreement.

<You startled me!>

"There was a whirl of shadows and my heart went cold like someone walked on my grave and you vanished ," Bashak repeated, slowly and clearly as if Diya hadn't heard him the first time.

<The noise scared me so I used Phantom Step, that's all.>

"You're not hurt?"

Oh. Bashak wasn't criticizing Diya for flinching, he was worried . Something in the boy's heart Diya was using cracked a little at the realization. <I'm not hurt, I'm fine.> Diya reassured him. <I use Phantom Step sometimes when I'm startled. It's a defensive move.>

The taller trainer, clearly still worried, tilted his head and frowned. "I've never heard of … do you mean Phantom Force?"

<That is a terrible name! It's bad and its wrong and the people who named it should feel bad!> Diya showed Bashak its rant, then went straight back to typing. <Who would name an ability to step between worlds after the force which prevents overlapping matter when you step back into the material world?! You *step* into the phantom world, it should be Phantom *Step*!>

At least Bashak wasn't worried anymore, if the laughter he was clearly suppressing was anything to go by. "Battle trainers," he said with a snort.

<???>

"Battle trainers are who would name that move after its reentry damage," he clarified.

<Oh.> Diya was loathe to admit it but, <That … makes sense.>

Bashak snorted. "Only for battle junkies. I like your name better." Then he cleared his throat. "Ahm, I should finish calling the Swinub though. Then we'll set the food out for them, and I'll show you what else we'll be doing better than battle trainers."

Diya nodded its approval and fastened its hands over its ears again, this time pressing in extra tight. Svartis went for the much more thorough route of vacating Diya's cloak to bury her entire body under the snow. She hadn't liked the sudden overwhelming blast of sound any better than her trainer had.

Even prepared, the shock of noise as Bashak started up his kulning again was still overwhelming. The Banette swore it could feel the inside of its skull ringing. But the longer it withstood the sound the more it started to listen to it.

There was a melody to the call. Something Diya might even call a song. The notes of the call rose and fell, echoing off of distant hills. And in the moments when Bashak took a breath, Diya could hear the song as it was meant to be heard in those distant echoes. The sound came bouncing back as a haunting melody, something which sounded like it would be more at home in the phantom world than in this one.

"IEEEEEEEEE OOOOOOUAAAAAAAA HOOOOOUUUUUU. HWIEEEEEEEEE OOOOOuaaaaaaa-" After minutes of singing, Bashak finally let his song fade. The beckoning echoes of the call lingered in the air for long seconds afterward though, only reluctantly giving way to the sound of Bashak's laboured breathing.

Svartis cautiously burrowed out from under the snow. Is it over? she asked Diya hesitantly.

Diya didn't answer immediately, struck dumb by the sheer intensity of the herder's singing. It did eventually gather itself enough to tell Svartis that yes, it was over. Even if its ringing ears didn't quite believe it.

"That should do it," Bashak said, breathing hard. "Can you help me bury this food for them now?" He held up a storage ball and waved it in Diya's direction.

The Banette swallowed a lump in its throat. It pulled off a glove and typed, <That was amazing.>

The big boy laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head through his fluffy hair. "It is pretty loud isn't it?"

<Where did you learn that?>

"My parents."

<They must be proud.>

The herding boy blushed, the color standing out brightly against his light skin. "I hope so. Uh, can you help me with-" he gestured with the storage ball again.

<Oh! Sorry, yes!>

Bashak summoned a large bag of food from the storage ball, filled with dried mushrooms, potatoes, onions, roots, mealworms, and more than a few plants Diya couldn't identify at all. If they even were plants. Bashak assured Diya that the Swinubs would eat 'just about anything' though, so Diya buried the weird probably-plants under the snow with everything else.

Bashak stretched and yawned when they were done. "Now we wait," he informed Diya.

<What if they don't show up?>

The taller trainer shrugged. "Then I'll call again. Come, take a seat while we wait." He walked over to a log at the edge of the clearing, brushed off some snow, and sat down. He patted the snow-cleared space next to him. "It'll be a while."

After taking the seat Diya asked, <Okay, will you finally tell me how we're capturing them without battle?>

"Oh. Sorry." Bashak really seemed to mean it, wincing with his apology. "Didn't mean to keep you waiting. Uhhhhh, tell me, how much do you know about how pokeballs capture wild pokemon? Or don't."

<You mean how captured pokemon can escape?>

Bashak nodded, gesturing for Diya to go on. Which was fair, a surprising number of the schoolmates Diya could recall in the boy's memories had no idea how pokeballs worked. Which Diya found so odd. How could anyone see something as weird and wonderful as a pokeball and not immediately want to know how it worked?

Diya rubbed its ungloved hand to keep it warm and started typing, thumb dragging back and forth over the swiping keyboard. <Pokeballs put pokemon in pocket dimensions, but those pocket dimensions have an exit. A pokemon can walk right through the edge of the pokeball's space and out the mouth of the pokeball, no problem. A 'captured' pokemon isn't imprisoned in the ball, it can leave whenever it wants.> It turned its pokedex for Bashak to see.

The herder nodded. "Yup. So how do we keep pokemon in pokeballs?" While he waited for Diya to type out its next answer he pulled a couple items out from the inside of his colorful jacket. An extendable stick covered in a big poof of wool at the end -probably Mareep wool from the way static electricity sparked over it-, a small stick with a hook on one end and a round ceramic weight on the other, and a thin copper wire with a hook on each end.

<Pokeballs don't just warp space, they warp time. They can stretch out time inside so much that it all but stands still relative to us. One day out here becomes a second in there.> Diya rubbed its ungloved hand to keep it warm again. This whole typing to talk thing was kind of painful out in the cold air.

"But?" Bashak prompted. He took the copper wire and buried one end in the ground, then hooked the other in the poof of wool on his big extendable stick. He endured a few painful looking shocks as he did, but after the copper wire was hooked in the shocks stopped. The copper wire was grounding the Mareep wool's electricity into the ground.

<But the pokeball's time has to be matched to our time outside to pull a pokemon in, and it takes a while for pokeballs to go from normal time to stasis. That's why you need to fight a pokemon to exhaustion or paralyze it> or hurt it until it was too injured to move, but that felt too cruel for Diya to say <before catching it. It needs to not be able to reach the exit before the pokeball's stasis kicks in.>

Bashak pulled some wool away from the big stick, making the whole thing look like a cloud with a bit sticking out, and tied that bit to the hook of the smaller weighted stick. Then he let the smaller stick dangle and whirled it with a flick of his fingers. Like magic the protruding bit of fluffy wool spun into neat tight thread. As the thread spun Bashak kept pulling more and more bits of fluff away from the main poof of wool, letting them spin into more thread. Once he had a rhythm going he looked over what Diya had typed and commented, "Do you need to beat up a pokemon to get it to stay put?"

Diya thought for a moment. <Not with a pokemon trained to stay put. But a pokeball's inner space is weird and the capture transition is jarring. Wild pokemon always freak out and try to escape.>

"Always?" Bashak's small weighted stick -Diya thought it was called a spindle- was dangling on a long length of thread now, almost touching the ground. He stopped its spin, looped the thread around the stick and tied the end of it to the hook, then started the process again.

<I know you're going to tell me why it's not actually always, but as far as I know yes. Even sleeping pokemon get startled awake by the transition and run out.>

"What about comfortable pokemon?"

Diya would have responded but its ungloved hand was getting really cold. So instead it put its glove back on and simply waited for Bashak to elaborate.

Bashak kept spinning his thread as he spoke. The process was so practiced his hands worked on effortless autopilot, even with gloves on. "A sleeping pokemon which wakes up getting dumped into a pocket of twisted space is not a calm pokemon. But if a pokemon is awake and calm and trusts you," he chuckled, "and you've got a Chansey or two singing feelings of security and comfort straight into its brain…" he trailed off.

This was probably a point where Diya was supposed to pick up the conversation but its typing hand was still cold and it didn't want to take its glove off again.

The herder waited for a few seconds before eventually clearing his throat awkwardly. He clearly wasn't used to driving conversations, even if he was more talkative than June had suggested. "Well. It doesn't work with all pokemon. Definitely not solitary or aggressive ones. But calmer social pokemon-" he shrugged. "Get them to trust you and they don't even bother trying to escape the pokeball. Not in enough of a hurry to escape the stasis anyhow."

Diya's jaw slackened a little under its scarf. Was it really that easy? Why didn't everyone do that instead of battle then? Its expression must have shown above its scarf, because Bashak answered its unspoken question.

"Why doesn't everyone do it like this?" He shrugged. "It works for herders. But we tame easy-going social pokemon that live in herds and don't migrate too quickly. I wanna come by each morning for a week and feed the Swinubs, they'll still be in the area and be happy to see me. Happy to trust me too. Plenty of other pokemon don't stay that still, or trust that easy." The herder thought to himself for a moment, then added as an afterthought, "Some are happier making a meal of you than letting you feed them."

Bashak spun some more thread, taking his time to put his thoughts in order. He'd added a few more loops to the spindle when he started talking again. "This works for nine out of ten pokemon I'd want to catch. Lot less for most trainers though. It'd be nice if more trainers thought of catching pokemon like this anyway, when it could work. But I get why they don't."

Diya nodded slowly. That made sense.

The Banette flexed its hand inside its glove, to see if it could type a response to Bashak's thoughts. Unfortunately it still wasn't warm enough that Diya would want to type with it. Diya frowned slightly. Typing really wasn't turning out to be the best communication method while outside during the winter.

Its lack of a response didn't seem to bother Bashak though. The herder just kept spinning, turning raw fluffy wool into thread with meditative calm. But Bashak didn't let their hilltop lapse into silence. As he spun a soft musical thrumming rose out of his chest, filling the air as it rose in volume. He hummed tunelessly, fully content to spin and hum if no further conversation was to be had.

Diya smiled. It was going to have to thank June for introducing it to her friend. Bashak was nice. And probably gave the best hugs too. It would have to find an excuse to hug him before the day was done. The Banette tilted its head back and let Bashak's humming wash over it.

When the Swinubs eventually found them they were still sitting like that, Bashak spinning and humming and Diya soaking it in.

Diya laughed with delight when it saw the first Swinub crest the hill. They were so fluffy! Diya had never seen a Swinub in person before and the sheer degree of fluffiness was astonishing. As far as Diya could tell they were round shin-high balls of fluffy fur with pink snouts and nothing else. The fur was light brown with darker brown vertical stripes, and that was the extent of their distinguishing features. No eyes or ears or legs could be seen, just round balls of fluff gliding through the snow.

The Banette didn't even realize it had stood up to rush forward and pet one until Bashak's hand came to rest on its shoulder.

"Whoa, slow down," he told Diya. Bashak stood and began packing up his spinning equipment while he talked. "Don't rush them, that'll spook the Piloswines." The mention of Piloswines made Diya pause. It hadn't seen any Piloswines.

A swarm of two dozen or more Swinubs came cresting over the hill and descended on the buried food in a flurry. The small balls of fluff rooted about in the snow, burying their pink snouts as deep as they could before emerging with their prizes clutched triumphantly in their snuffling maws. Which was absolutely adorable and had caught all of Diya's attention. So much so that it had missed the five Piloswine bringing up the rear.

Piloswine were the evolved version of Swinub and at first glance could be mistaken for nothing more than chest high balls of fluff. But a second glance showed more. Piloswine weren't quite so round, hints of a heavy two-humped body showed under all their fur. And they moved with great ponderous strides, the weight of their bulk clearly too great to glide as their smaller relatives did. Most striking though were the tusks. Two thick ivory tusks thrust out from either side of their snouts, threatening grievous injury for anyone foolish enough to mess with them.

Oh. Yes it was a good thing Bashak had grabbed Diya, because it had not noticed the Piloswine.

With his hand still on Diya's shoulder, Bashak laid out the rules of interaction, "If the Swinubs touch you first, you can touch them. But keep an eye on the Piloswines and stop if any of them tense up. Oh, and don't feed them by hand. It's bad if they learn they can get food by pestering humans."

Diya nodded. Its hand had finally warmed back up so it pulled out its pokedex and asked, <Okay. Um, how do I actually help?>

"First? Walk around and show them you don't mean harm. I'm still a weird unfamiliar creature to them, no matter how friendly I am. Two nice humans is a pattern though, and everyone feels safer with predictable patterns."

Diya nodded. It could do that. <And second?>

"Mm," Bashak hummed. "June said you could read emotions and calm pokemon?"

<Close. I can sense and dull painful or violent emotions.>

Bashak smiled. "Your talent would be amazing as a herder. Anyway, I can only capture four of the Swinubs to send home. I need males -they're the ones with the extra wrinkle in the middle of their snouts- and the less aggressive the better. If I point some candidates out, can you tell me if they're the type to play nice?"

<I think so.>

"Thank you Diya."

The two trainers started walking together around the hilltop, weaving among ecstatically rooting Swinubs and giving the Piloswine a respectful berth. Diya giggled with delight when it saw two of the Swinubs start wrestling over a dried mushroom, but did as Bashak had asked and didn't rush up to pet the living daylights out of them.

Bashak smiled at the sight too. "They are cute like that. We don't want those ones though. That play-fighting is cute when young, less so when they're a hundred kilos of muscle and tusk."

Ah, yeah, Diya could see that. It eyed the Piloswines. The thought of them fighting like that was much less cute. <So> Diya asked Bashak <I understand the non-aggression. Why only male Swinubs though? Don't herders typically want females?> Diya's understanding was that more female Swinub would mean more babies faster.

The bigger trainer shrugged. "Normally, yeah. But there's a Swinub sickness going around in some nearby valleys back home. If my family's herd gets some more genetic diversity before it reaches us, hopefully it won't hit us so hard."

<Ohhh. And a few males can add genetic diversity to the next generation faster than a few females.>

"Exactly," Bashak confirmed with a grin that made Diya smile in turn.

<Why only four though? If you need more pokeballs I've got a bunch.>

"It's not that. Swinubs are protected pokemon on this island. You need a license to catch one and take it off-island, and I've only got four licenses."

<Ah. What about Piloswine?>

Bashak shook his head, shaggy black hair bouncing about his face. "Except rarely, no. Most Swinub don't make it to evolution in the wild so their herds are used to absorbing their losses. But each Piloswine is too important to the herd to take."

<That makes se>- Diya cut off as Svartis' thoughts pushed their way into its head.

Heeere, fluffy. Heeeeeeere, fluffy fluffy thing, Svartis teased.

Diya looked down to see a small Swinub staring at the hem of its cloak, snout pointing straight ahead with laser focus. Svartis was making the cloak flap in the wind. She teased the little ball of fluff, dangling the edge of the cloak juuust out of reach and then snapping it back to Diya's boots.

Diya stood very still, trying to not scare the Swinub off. Its eyes sparkled and shone bright as it stared - literally, adding a faint pink tinge to the snow around the Swinub. Diya tore its gaze from the Swinub only long enough to glance over at Bashak and see he was staring just as intently, with a childlike smile on his face. It looked back as quickly as possible though, not wanting to miss a moment of this.

The Swinub leapt! Or at least, scooted forward aggressively. Under the fluff its legs were a bit too stubby to properly leap. It did its best to chase the flapping cloak hem anyway, galumphing after it and rearing up when Svartis pulled it up out of reach.

Diya tried to restrain its laughter, it really did. It didn't want to scare the little Swinub. But when another two joined in and teamed up to pin down part of the cloak's hem, it was just too much. They prodded it furiously with their pink snouts, trying to identify this strange flapping thing and Diya couldn't hold it in any longer. It snorted. It giggled. And when it well and truly couldn't hold it in anymore it clasped a hand over its mouth to keep the spirit-stuff in and laughed .

Unfortunately for Diya's stomach -and Bashak's, who was laughing freely as well- the Swinubs were not scared off by Diya's laughter. Instead they seemed to take it as a sign that all the rest of them should join in this wonderful game too. Svartis set the whole cloak's hem aflutter, chanting in Diya's mind for the fluffies to come here, and they did.

Laughter so intense it hurt rocked Diya's frame, forcing it to double over. Then a cluster of Swinubs climbing on the edge of its cloak threw its balance off and it was all Diya could do to keel over in a direction that didn't squish any of them. The Banette hit the ground in a poof of snow and was covered moments later by curious snuffling pokemon.

Svartis decided that now would be a great time to set Diya's sleeves fluttering too, which because one of its hands was covering its hysterical laughter meant Swinubs ended up all over the felled trainer's face.

Bashak was howling with laughter. "Well, you, hehehe, you certainly, hahahaha oh gods my sides, they're certainly comfortable with you!"

Diya tore its free hand from the Swinubs' curious snouts just long enough to thrust its pokedex up in the air with a message, <Help!>. Its laughter kind of undermined its demand though. They were just so cute!

"No no, this," Bashak paused to double over and laugh, "this is perfect! Quick, while they're roughhousing, see if you can tell which ones are -oh no don't lick Diya's eyes, hahahaha, shoo, shoo little one- see if you can tell which ones are aggressive about it and which ones are calmer."

That's easy for you to say! Diya wanted to cry out. You're not buried under a carpet of adorable choking fluff!

But Bashak was helping shoo away the ones which wanted to sit on its nose or prod its eyes, not just abandoning it to the heavy wave of fluffiness entirely. So Diya did its best to focus through the laughter and do its job. It was a struggle, but by the end Diya was pretty sure it had gotten at least a surface read on each of the Swinub's personalities.

And eventually, after a Piloswine had come over and nosed the rambunctious Swinubs into some semblance of chastised order, Diya even got to stand up again. Bashak helped it brush the snow off its cloak, commenting on the fabric as he did. "Hmm. This isn't wet at all. Good wool."

<You sound surprised?>

"Machine woven wool isn't always tight enough to be waterproof. You have a quality cloak."

<Good to know. Svartis certainly likes it.> Diya's sleeve flapped back and forth in a wave at the mention of her name.

Bashak snorted. "That she does." There was a pause before Bashak continued, as he visibly worked up the energy to continue the conversation, "So the Swinubs, which ones…?"

<One sec.> Diya rubbed its hands together hard, warming up its typing hand. Thankfully its blood was up from the laughter and the exertion and its hand hadn't gotten too cold. <Okay so that one over there has a bit of a mean streak->

The ghost trainer spent a few minutes laying out any negative emotions it had picked up from the Swinubs. There hadn't been much, but those Swinubs would be siring a good number of the next generation of Swinubs for Bashak's family, so Diya wanted to give Bashak as much detail as possible. It laid out every bit of excessive competitiveness, aggression, and sour feelings it had felt.

Bashak rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Thank you Diya," he told the Banette when it finished.

<Was that helpful?>

"Yeah. Mostly what I've already noticed, but confirmation is always good. Though that 'devious' Swinub you mentioned…"

Diya waited for a bit after he trailed off, then asked, <What about him?>

"Reconsidering capturing that one. Too smart can be a hassle to herd."

Diya rubbed its typing hand to stave off the cold. It really wanted to put its glove back on, but there was one more thing it felt it should mention. <Bashak, about the Piloswine?>

"Mm?"

After the Swinub had calmed down and eaten their fill, the Piloswine had moved in to eat the rest. The Swinubs were still growing and needed all the food they could get to prepare for evolution, which made things difficult for them during the winter. But the Piloswine had deep fat reserves, they could afford to eat the Swinubs' leftovers in the winter and pack the fat back on during Kenomao's bountiful summers.

Except one Piloswine wasn't doing more than nibble reluctantly at the leftovers. And it didn't have deep fat reserves. It looked haggard. Lanky coarse fur hung off its bones in loose folds that screamed of poor health. And Diya had tasted its mental state when it had opened itself up to the Swinubs' feelings. It was in pain. A lot of pain.

<That Piloswine,> Diya said, <it's hurting. Badly.>

"Ah. Yeah. Poor girl. Can't do much for her. Apparently tapeworms are a common problem for Swinubs and Piloswine around these parts, and they don't respond well to medication."

But Diya was shaking its head before Bashak finished talking. <It's not that. Her jaw hurts.>

That got Bashak's attention. The older boy's soft brown eyes turned to Diya and fixed there with a startling intensity. "You can read pain that precisely?"

<Yes.>

In an instant Bashak knelt down in front of Diya and jutted his jaw forward, proffering his face. "Show me. Touch my face where the pain is."

The Banette opened its mouth just a sliver under its bright green scarf and breathed in sharply. The Piloswine's grief flowed into it and ... there. Diya reached out and ran its finger along Bashak's face, from a bottom canine to the fleshy underside of his jaw and then back to the joint. <There. It burns all the time and it hurts so much when she eats.>

There wasn't a trace of childish joy and charm in Bashak's face as he stood up, he was as serious as a stone. He swore passionately. "I shouldn't have assumed it was tapeworms. She wouldn't let me close to her earlier but I should have tried harder and-"

The boy cut himself off and breathed deep. "Can you calm her down? Make her let us come close?"

<I can't control her like that, but I can take the pain away.>

"Do that. We're going to help her." Bashak unclipped two pokeballs from a belt under his jacket and released their occupants. "Helga, Bertha," he called, "I need you." Two flashes of red light solidified into a pair of Chansey. The round pink egg-carrying pokemon came up to his ribs and both murmured questioningly.

"Helga, sing trust. Bertha, sing sleep." Each pokemon chirped a short "Chansey!" before opening their mouths and singing wordlessly together. A soft crooning harmony flowed from them which caused the Swinubs and the Piloswine to blink drowsily. But while their music was beautiful to Diya, it felt no preternatural effect from it.

Bashak dug into his jacket pockets and turned up a pair of earplugs. "These are for you," he told Diya. "Me and Greta are used to their song but you-"

Diya interrupted him. <Sing is a normal type ability, right?>

"Yes?"

<I'm immune.>

"Oh. Really?" For a moment Bashak's serious face slipped and he snorted fondly. "You'd be great as a herder." Then he fixed his jaw and directed Diya, "Okay, take her pain now. I'm going to approach and … and June said you can hit hard with telekinesis?"

Diya nodded. Shadow Ball would do the trick if it came to a fight.

"Okay. If things go wrong, do not be afraid to hit her as hard as you can. She's a big girl, she can take it. If I get gored though, you and Greta are not big enough to carry me back to town."

Diya nodded very seriously.

"Greta, with me. Retaliate only." Bashak looked over at Diya and waited for it to suck in a breath - a thick column of black oily pain came rushing out of the Piloswine's mouth - before cautiously crouching down and walking forward. The lack of pain must have been a shock to the Piloswine because she slumped suddenly as Diya began drawing from her. It did its best to take the bite of her hunger as well, and her miserable acceptance of a slow starvation.

"Heyyyy big girl," Bahsak spoke. His voice was soothing and calm, without a trace of tension in it. "That feels good doesn't it? It must have been hard carrying all that pain. Well don't you worry, I'm here to help." His soft tone and the Chanseys' songs washing over the hilltop seemed to do the trick. The Piloswine didn't stir or snort as he approached. In fact as the Chansey's songs did their work she almost seemed more asleep than awake.

Bashak turned his head back to Diya for a moment, keeping one eye on the Piloswine. "Will the smoke hurt me if I touch it?" he asked softly.

Diya shook its head. Unless he was a psychic or a ghost himself, it should pass right through him.

Bashak resumed his approach, passing through the smoke as he neared the hurt pokemon. "I'm coming a little closer big girl but don't you worry. I'm here to help. I just need to take a look in your mouth. I've got a flashlight right here, but I promise I won't shine it in your eyes." Bashak flicked on a light and held it up with one hand. With the other he reached forward-

The herder didn't stop using his soft soothing tone of voice for a second as he asked Diya, "You're sure you're taking all her pain?"

Diya nodded intensely enough that Bashak could see it from the corner of his eye.

Bashak very gently touched the bottom of the Piloswine's snout on the opposite side Diya had pointed out. He gently, oh so gently, opened her mouth and shone his flashlight inside. "You're doing so good for me," he whispered to her, "just keep it up. I'm here to help you and if you let me, I'll make sure the pain goes away for good."

He stared into her mouth and Diya swore it could hear its heartbeats pounding in its chest for every second Bashak was touching her. After taking a look Bashak slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out a potion bottle. Gently, watching the Piloswine's reactions carefully the whole time, he sprayed the potion into her mouth twice. Then he gently let go and murmured, "You were such a good girl. Thank you. Don't you worry, we'll fix you right up."

After that the taller trainer made his slow and careful way back to Diya, standing back up to his full height once he had some distance between himself and the pained pokemon. "Can you talk and concentrate on that at the same time?" he asked Diya.

<Ish.>

Bashak nodded. "Okay. Well, she has an infected tusk. It's bad, tusk's dentin is rotted to the core."

Diya's eyes widened and its own jaw throbbed with a sympathetic echo of the phantom pain it was taking from her. Stars above. No wonder she couldn't eat.

"The potion will help with the pain, but she needs a pokemon center. So we're going to have to capture her with the Swinubs."

It was a struggle to type a response and absorb grief so completely at the same time. Diya had to immerse itself deep in Piloswine's experiences to pull its pain so fully, and holding the twin perspectives of a human body and a Piloswine one at the same time wasn't easy. But Diya focused all of its will and managed, if barely. <I thought no capturing Piloswine?>

"Not normally, no. But the big exception is if one will die of natural causes without human medical intervention. And she will."

<How do I help?>

"Keep absorbing her pain. And I know it's a lot to ask, but if you can help the others be less nervous too..."

<I can.> It would wait until right before they captured her, but it could probably manage that for a few seconds.

"Good. Helga, keep singing trust. Bertha, sing peace." The Swinubs and Piloswine on the hilltop stirred a bit as Bertha swapped her song of sleep for one of peace and their drowsiness lifted. But none of them made any sudden movements or gave any indication they were less comfortable with the trainers than when the Swinub had been climbing all over Diya.

"Diya, can you keep taking her pain while she's in a pokeball?"

Oh. Diya's concentration on taking the Piloswine's pain wavered for a moment as it considered the implications of that, and it had to struggle to keep its focus on the task at hand. <No.>

Bashak clucked his tongue and winced. "Thought that was the case. We'll just have to hope the painkillers in the potion are good enough."

<If not?>

"Well…" Bashak hesitated. "We'll capture the Swinubs first. If the Piloswine breaks out of the ball upset, and she gets the herd upset…"

Diya waited for him to finish, not entirely comfortable with how Bashak was hesitating.

"Svartis can fly, yes? She can cover for us as we run and still be safe?"

That was the opposite of encouraging.

But Diya also didn't hesitate before nodding yes. This pokemon was hurting. She'd die if no one helped her. And they could help her.

That was what was important.

The capture of the Swinubs was easy. First Bashak demonstrated recapturing and releasing Greta to the herd a few times. Diya was ready to absorb their nervousness if needed, but found it unnecessary. The red lightshow as Greta dissolved into energy and reappeared barely merited interest from the herd, let alone concern. Diya assumed Bashak had already showed them this more than once, on the previous days he'd visited the herd.

Then Bashak knelt down in front of one of the Swinubs he intended to capture. He held his hand out palm down for it to sniff and waited for it to come over. When it did he pet it, smoothing his hand over the pokemon's thick fur until it was swaying on its hidden feet. Then he pulled out a pokeball with his other hand, armed it, and gently tapped it against the Swinub's side.

There was a flash of red light, and then no more Swinub.

One of the Piloswine looked over at the flash. It moved slowly and ponderously, its protective instincts clearly inhibited by the Chanseys' continuing song of trust and peace and Diya siphoning away its anxieties. But it did give Bashak a measured look.

The herder didn't bat an eye. He just let the Swinub out of the pokeball. Then he put it back in. And then out again. And in, and out-

The Piloswine swayed its head to look over at Greta, who was sitting perfectly unharmed on the log the trainers had sat on early. It looked back at the Swinub, who was maybe a little confused but otherwise fine. Then it snorted and moved on, trundling away to dig up a piece of dried fruit the Swinubs hadn't eaten.

Bashak captured the Swinub one last time and waited for the pokeball to let out the pulse of red light which signified a successful transition to internal stasis.

The next three Swinubs were captured just as easily without a peep of complaint from the herd. Which just left the Piloswine with the infected tusk.

Bashak looked over at Diya. "Ready?"

Numb aching fingers swiped over its pokedex. <One moment.> Diya told Svartis to be ready as well. If they had to run, she'd have to distract the herd and hold it off as best she could.

Looking over Bashak, Diya sized up the bigger trainer. It could take Svartis with it into the phantom world easily enough, but her gaseous body weighed as much as a feather. If it had to, would it be able to pull Bashak along with it? It thought about it. Probably. Few ghost pokemon could use Phantom Step as readily as Banettes could, and it had always been stronger than its siblings.

It tapped Bashak on the shoulder. <If we run I'll Phantom Step us. I'll hold it as long as I can. Svartis will gas them, make them short of breath. Head start + gas, we'll be fine.>

Bashak turned to face Diya and … tried to smile confidently. But instead it was a weak and shaky smile, and when the older trainer let out a breath it was unsteady. Diya blinked and for the first time took the Banette stock of Bashak's negative emotions.

He was scared. Sharp jittery fear from when he'd approached the Piloswine was still lingering under his skin. His actions and bearing had the confidence of long practice and experience, yes, but underneath that was a fragile uncertainty. Diya reached deeper and-

-A younger Bashak scrambled back from the rearing Mudsdale which had thrown him. His father stepped in and caught the reins, expertly bringing the panicking pokemon back down to the ground. He shielded Bashak it with his body and spoke to it in a low calm-

-His mother watched him struggle to lift the heavy feed bag with careful eyes. Her hands hovered beneath his, ready to catch it if he slipped. "Steady there pumpkin, just a little bit more." He was too small to do this work and his grip was slipping, but he'd wanted so badly to-

-"You missed a stitch, right there," his older brother said, pointing to a spot on the toque he was knitting. "I know, I know, it's annoying, but you'll get it. Trust me, one day you'll be the one doing the teaching."

Diya breathed deep through its nose. Bashak had done this all before. This wasn't his first time capturing wild pokemon or dealing with a hurt pokemon that might lash out. It wasn't even his hundredth. But it was his first time doing it without his family there to catch him if he failed.

No wonder he was nervous.

<Hey,> Diya tapped Bashak and showed him the pokedex, <you've got this.> And Diya believed that. It had seen Bashak fail in his memories, over and over again. But it had also seen the boy learn from those failures. It believed Bashak could do this, and handle the consequences if not. It just needed Bashak to believe that too. So it pulled down its scarf and smiled at the boy, letting all of its faith shine through.

Bashak swallowed heavily, but now the nervousness which Diya felt accompany the gesture was a good thing. It was born of the desire to live up to someone's expectations, not the fear of failure. "Thank you Diya," he said roughly. "You ready now?"

<Yes.> Diya put its pokedex away and slipped its glove back on. If things went wrong now, there would be no time for typing. Only running.

Even with her calmed and drained of pain, it still wasn't safe to pet the Piloswine the way Bashak had petted the Swinubs. Agony would have taught her to flinch away from contact rather than lean into it, and even with Diya easing her pain that kind of learned response would be too dangerous to mess with.

So instead of touching her to establish trust, Bashak shared space with her instead. Calmly, never showing a hint of the worry Diya could taste inside him, Bashak cleared some snow from the ground a few meters away from her and sat down, waving to invite Greta to leap into his lap. He glanced over at the Piloswine deliberately once he was settled, to let her know he was aware of her, but then looked away and minded his own business. He was sharing her space, not intruding on her.

Then he did his own thing. The herder produced his spindle and stick of wool -if Diya remembered right, that longer stick was called a distaff-, grounded the distaff with the hooked copper wire, and began spinning again. He let his spindle dangle by a strand of half-spun thread and set it spinning with a twist of his fingers. Deft practiced motions pulled at the wool cloud on his distaff, ensuring there was always more material to spin into thread.

That got the Piloswine's attention. She turned her head to look at this strange thing the human was doing. But that was all he got, her attention. It was when Bashak started humming along to Helga and Bertha's song that her demeanor changed.

The sound of his humming was a deep resonant thrumming, something that came out of the back of his chest and vibrated deep inside Diya's. And it must have found its way inside of the Piloswine's chest too because as he hummed the Piloswine stopped simply looking at him and crept closer, cautiously as if he might stop if she disturbed him. And when she was no more than a meter away, she let herself lie down. She slumped to the snow, her haggard frame heaving with exhausted breaths as she finally let her malnourished body stop holding her up.

Bashak hummed, and spun. And she listened, and watched.

Minutes passed and thread built up on Bashak's spindle. Diya was starting to wonder if maybe the Piloswine had fallen asleep when she moved again. It was a movement made awkward and shuffling by her exhaustion. But she managed and slowly she pushed herself along the ground until her good tusk was right next to Bashak's leg.

Diya held its breath. Bashak's anxiety was rich on its tongue, focused sharply on that tusk designed to gore and tear at predators.

But the tired hungry Piloswine did neither of those things. Instead she raised her head and gently, oh so gently, lay her healthy tusk on top of Bashak's leg. She huffed out a hot wet breath, and then relaxed, letting the combined music of the herder and his Chanseys wash over her. In Bashak's lap, Greta reached out and gently licked her tusk.

"Poor girl," Bashak murmured to her. "You've been fighting so hard haven't you? It must have been exhausting to keep moving and protecting your family when you could hardly eat. But it's alright. You can rest now, I promise. We'll take care of you."

With slow careful motions Bashak set his spindle down in his lap. He pulled out a pokeball with his freed hand, making sure to make no sudden movements which might startle the injured pokemon. Then he smiled, and gently tapped it against her healthy tusk.

Diya held its breath as the pokeball pulled her in with a flash of red light. If she panicked and broke out, and panicked the rest of the herd too, they were going to have to run .

The pokeball wobbled as the pokemon inside moved.

Then it stood still.

Finally, the pokeball pulsed red.

Air wooshed out of the Banette's lungs in a fevered rush. They'd done it! She was going to live. The pokecenter was going to help her heal and she would be alright. And it and Bashak would be alright too! They'd captured an hurting injured Piloswine from the middle of her herd without even a fight! Which was a very good thing, because against four healthy juggernaut-like Piloswine and two dozen smaller Ice pokemon in the snow they would have lost horribly.

Bashak let out a relieved sigh of his own. Then he looked up at Diya, his brown eyes meeting Diya's pink ones. "Diya," he said seriously, "thank you. I wouldn't have realized I could help her without you. And it was easier to be brave with you helping me."

Diya nodded seriously, holding eye contact with Bashak as it did.

The older trainer let out another sigh and slumped. "Break for lunch?"

Diya nodded as fervently as it could.

Krazyfan1 said:

Hmm...

All pokemon have the Potential to learn human language, have an easier time learning how to understand it as well, but most wild pokemon tend to stick with just getting the gist of whats said instead of the specifics due to not Needing to talk to humans most of the time?

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kojivsleo said:

So can Diya still understand Pokemon language when he's in the boys body? Just asking because as Meowth has shown, Pokemon are both able to understand and with some effort able to speak human languages.

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First things first, in my story pokemon are broadly as intelligent as their real world counterpart animals are, with rare exceptions for certain human level intelligence (or beyond) pokemon. Diya is as smart as they are specifically because they're possessing a human's body, and have access to that body's brain as readily as they have access to the body's lungs. This, and Diya's intelligence as a Shuppet, will be talked about in depth in the story at some point. But that's a plot beat for later, right now to follow the story all I really need my audience to know is: "Diya is human-level intelligent", "Most pokemon are not", "Svartis' intelligence is unclear, but ... smart? ish?"

(I swear the smart-ish/Svartis pun was unintentional).

Hopefully if I've done everything right, a reader who asks themself "Okay, ignoring the anime or the games or whatever, can I follow what this story's world-building premise is?" will be able to answer "Yes."

But! This is a good opportunity to soapbox a bit about the lore and world-building philosophy I'm bringing to this story!

Lore and World-Building Philosophy
(yikes this ended up long, you two, please do not feel you have to read this if you don't want to)

In the pokemon anime, all pokemon are sapient and can fully understand human speech, but only speak it with great difficulty and practice (like Meowth). The pokemon anime also has Slowpoke, Farfetch'd, Magikarp, and more being eaten as part of meals. Which. You know. Is an intersection of lore that exists.

So it's a good thing then that the pokemon anime, as one would expect of a show aimed at young children, has a broadly self-inconsistent lore you're not meant to interrogate too deeply and doesn't bother delving into the deep implications of stuff like that. Pokemon can talk and understand humans in the pokemon anime because kids like the idea of talking to their super special magical monster friends and being understood, not because this is a serious contemplation of a setting filled with obligate carnivores who must kill and eat sapient creatures to survive.

This is not how things work in the games as best I can tell, in which most pokemon are of relatively ordinary animal intelligence. (Before you @ me, yes I'm dead certain there's some piece of lore which contradicts this, but the games are at least more often telling a narrative about pokemon as trained animals than as fully sapient non-human creatures to be talked to directly by the humans.)

So which lore am I using? Well ... neither.

I don't think I could construct something coherent by working on the assumption that every word of the lore is true and must be followed and stitched together into a unified coherent whole. Even if I limited myself to a specific media type, or even a specific game or movie or anime series, Pokemon just isn't designed to be that coherent. It's a franchise meant to deliver on a feeling, on a consistent emotional and imaginative experience; it's not the Stormlight Archives where the audience being able to dissect every little detail to figure out implications about the broader setting is half the point of the story.

So the source I'm building this story from is that abstract feeling, that general concept of pokemon. When I personally think of pokemon, what do I remember about it? What stands out, what feels important? I want something that a person can read and say "oh yeah, that's a pokemon story" more than I want lore faithfulness. Of course I'm still salting it with specific bits of lore which support and add texture to that, to tie it in with the greater whole. I think it adds something for a reader to be able to go "Oh yeah, I remember that specific description of Shuppets in the pokedex! It's cool that this story expands on that!"

And then the stuff I'm adding wholesale is the stuff I feel would be part of an official pokemon story, were the pokemon franchise to ever expand out to adult-oriented novels with an emotional and world-building focus. Stuff like including transhumants and their herding practices, less fanciful training methods, a touch more of an understanding that pokemon can be lethally dangerous, and teasing out the more mature and adult implications of the wonders of pokecenters.

If you can imagine there's some 'true' abstract pokemon lore that was never penned to paper. And that lore was taken and folded down and modified to fit a 7+ age range anime that's whole-family-watchable, and also modified to fit games with both children and dedicated adult power gamer appeal, and also modified to fit some darker young adult oriented anime, and some more serious movies, and so on. Well I'm taking that abstract 'overlore' and folding it down and modifying it to suit an emotionally uplifting serial novel that touches on heavy topics, oriented towards an audience of late teens to early middle aged professionals who have a taste for worldbuilding.

I'm definitely not saying my take on pokemon is the "right" lore / world-building. I think there's a lot of ways pokemon can be interpreted. Heck you don't even have to adhere to the 'feel' of classic pokemon. It's totally legit to say "But what if I do want to seriously interrogate that anime lore intersection of universally sapient pokemon and predatory pokemon?" and then write the ensuing horror story. Or to use pokemon as a backdrop to set a story about romance, hardcore action, or comedy. There's no "right" lore, and even self-consistency is optional to an extent (it's genre-dependent, the 7+ anime gets away with it no problem, but not so much for fic like Pokemon: The Origin of Species).

My hope is simply that when I'm done assembling the bits of lore that work best for me, that this story feels like a pokemon story, that it's internally self-consistent enough to pass muster on a straight read through*, and that you can construct a mental picture in your head of how this particular pokemon story works.

*This is serialized and I don't have an editor, it will be self-inconsistent. I can only hope it's not obviously self-inconsistent.