Re: Journey from the Valley [RP]
Hope and Lifewing
The Salamence landed with a thud, nearly crush Symon to death. Lifewing smirked inwardly at that. As the great dragon apologized, the Pidgeotto’s quick, small eyes noticed that its legs were injured, and its wings weren’t as developed as a true, adult Salamence. But it could fly nonetheless.
“At least you can fly,” Lifewing said bitterly, painfully gesturing at the wings of the Salamence, “Well, what a happy group we’re turning out to be.” He laughed at this, but it was completely humorless.
As he glared at the blue, injured creature, that great dragon that bore signs of recent battle, maybe even torture, a memory from the bygone age of the Valley tugged at the Pidgeotto.
The young Pidgey looked down as the half a dozen Bagon hurled themselves down to the earth from the tall cliff where his clan resided.
“Now then, young Soul-Flyer,” the ancient, fluffy Altaria said, “Tell me why these small dragons willingly challenge death.”
Lifewing stared at his mentor, this graceful-necked blue bird, with wings like the clouds.
“They are foolish creatures, wishing for something they are not. Look at them,” the small Pidgey’s face seemed to curl itself into disgust, “They only have those stubby arms. It is lucky their heads are like rocks. Their brains are addled enough.”
“That is true,” the old Altaria said, “But notice their evolution, the Shelgon. They are like a cocoon, until their soul says it is time to change into a dragon. The Salamence, one of the most powerful creatures in the Valley. These Bagon should be role models to you, Lifewing. They work tirelessly for their goal, never resting long enough to get comfortable. The Grip of Sloth will be a terrible time, Lifewing. Remember the Bagon when you must fulfill your role as Soul-Flyer.”
Sighing, Lifewing turned away from his long stare of the Salamence, walking away.
The Hope for Dawn had noticed the signs of someone stalking them. The flash of white indicated that the stalker wasn’t exactly camouflaged. It was very easy to sneak up behind this new pre-evolution, an albino Grovyle who had crimson leaves instead of the usual dark green. Scars ran down her body, but they seemed more recent compared to the old Sceptile’s ancient wounds.
“Being white isn’t exactly an advantage,” the Sceptile whispered, just loud enough that he knew the Grovyle could hear, “An advisable plan would be to cover oneself in mud. Now, I could break your neck now, but I have decided to be kind. The weakness of being old,” Hope snorted at this, “Now then, why are you here, albino?”
The Gallade, Cobalt, was shouting for the Grovyle to come out. Holding her tightly, he dragged her out of her hiding place, facing the Gallade.
“Yelling out is not exactly a good idea, friend. It’s easy to track us as it is. This young Grovyle here must still explain herself. That Salamence could’ve easily been a monster, here to attack us.”
Once known as riolu42