Quote Originally Posted by MarbleZone View Post
The Graveyard

swampertforever: ((That’s perfectly okay, I did say the animal was howling a lot; it doesn’t really change anything plot-wise, so you can take those liberties if you wish; also makes for a richer post, so I’m all for it. ^^))

You start letting fear get the best of you, and thinking clearly is hard in the face of actual danger. Instead of devising a plan, you start spilling out every single bit of information you hope might soothe the creature– deep down you doubt it’ll do any good, but maybe calling out to its generosity will help? In case that doesn’t work, you haphazardly rummage through your bag and pull out a handful of candy, praying that the animal will find it more appealing than your flesh.

For what seems like an eternity, all you hear in return is a deafening silence… then a loud bark, followed by a very sharp pain in your left leg! You scream in agony and horror as you realize you’ve just been bitten, and fall to one knee, clasping your leg – fortunately the creature let go without actually tearing off any flesh, but you can feel something warm running through your hand… you’re bleeding.

The barking continues, and you brace yourself mentally for the next bite, but it doesn’t come. It seems as if the animal is instead trying to scare you away, the first bite only a warning. Suddenly, another sound is heard between the barks – a human voice, albeit faint.

- What are you doing?! Come here boy, here! Bad dog!

You spot something flickering through the corner of your eye, as the darkness begins to lift: through a door opposite the one you came in from, a very old man approaches with a candle in hand. And as he does, the animal stops barking, heeding his instructions. Before long, the creature is close enough to the man’s candle for you to identify the aggressor – a particularly large Houndour.

Upon realizing what has happened, the elder places the candle on top of a small drawer and hastens his pace to help you, but after two steps he starts coughing spastically and passes out, falling to the floor; somehow, the candle . The Houndour starts pacing around his owner frantically, barking and then howling, much like it was doing before you entered the house. Does this mean it was calling for help… for the old man?

The dog turns to you once more, all semblance of threat gone, its eyes instead pleading. You fight your way back up and approach the elder limping, as you weigh your options. The Houndour has just attacked you unprovoked, inflicting a serious injury; why should you be helping it or its owner now? You owe them nothing, and all you got for your troubles so far is a bleeding, and quite possibly infected, wound in your left leg. On the other hand, it’s unlikely that you’ll find be able to treat your wounds anywhere else in this place, unless you rely on your own medicine, and the elder did seem genuinely concerned when he realized you were hurt. Maybe you should repay the favour…

As you think things through, the Houndour begins licking its owner’s face and nudging him with its snout, desperately trying to wake him up. After a while, the man grumbles incoherently before patting the dog on the head; you instinctively help him sit down, as your own leg is giving you trouble lifting him back to his feet.

- I… I’m so sorry, I g-guess he… he got scared when…. When he heard you… he bit you, didn’t he?...

He coughs countless times throughout the sentences, each word a struggle to utter. The elder raises a shaking arm and points to the door he came in from.

- There is a last d…dose of antibiotic in my… in my room, lad. Some p..painkillers left too, I reckon… - he smiles at his Houndour before continuing. – Heh, I… I guess I won’t be n… needing them no more, so help your…yourself boy. L-least I can do…

The Houndour seems to get what he means and lets out a heart-wrenching howl once more. The man pets him behind the ears but to no avail.

The choice is laid out in front of you; your wound isn’t going to get better by itself, and it’s becoming increasingly painful. On the other hand, it seems the man is gravely ill and his medical supplies are running low – even though he has given you full liberty to take what’s left and be on your way, believing his life span to be near its end anyway. You remember that Blue is still out there all alone, and the choice becomes all the more difficult…

What do you do?
OOC: I say 'the man' so many times in this post It's terrible.
The silence that followed Michael's words gave him time to think. He realized that maybe babbling to a wolf wasn't such a good idea. He could just imagine Blue reprimanding him on his idiotic plan. 'Michael, the wolf sounds dangerous... and you are offering it chocolate? What are you planning to do, get it even more hyper?' Somehow, the thought of Blue cooled Michael's nerves enough to hazard one more line into the darkness.
"Is anyone... there?" A bark answered Michaels call. Followed by the worst. Michael felt a sudden sharp pain in his left leg.
"ARGH!" The teen screamed and fell to his knees. He held his leg, trying to figure out what happened. All he could feel was teeth marks. And the blood. His blood.
'He bit me. Mr Wolf bit me...' Michael thought. The boy did what any other would in this situation. He started to cry.
"Mr Wolf, why don't you like me? I'm just trying to help." Michael sobbed. More barking answered Michaels question, furthering the boys hysteria. The boy stayed down and wrapped his arms around his legs, bracing himself for more attacks. Tears were streaming down his face, and he feared for the worse.
- "What are you doing?! Come here boy, here! Bad dog!"
'Wait... what? What dog? Who's talking?'
Michael noticed a flicker in the corner of his eyes. Turning to the source, he saw an old man making his way towards him, holding a candle. The barking had stopped, and Michael finally found the perpetrator, a large dog-like pokemon that had made his way over to the Old Man. Making sure he didn't move his leg, the boy reached into his bag and pulled out his Pokedex.
Houndour, the Dark Pokemon: It is smart enough to hunt in packs. It uses a variety of cries for communicating with others.
'So, Mr Wolf is a dog?' The teen put two and two together. 'Oh dear, I'm trespassing, aren't I?'. He didn't have long to think, as the old man had started to speed up. 'And he's going to tell me off as well...' The boys tears continued.
"I'm sorry Sir I heard your Houndour barking and thought he was in trouble so I rushed here to help..." The boy started to sob, but stopped when the Man collapsed, coughing uncontrollably.
"Sir?" Michael struggled to his feet, the pain in his leg making him see stars. The Houndour started to wail again, and turned to Michael, eyes pleading for help. Michael couldn't resist the dogs gaze, and started forward to help the old man, trying to bite back his tears and the pain. He didn't care if the Houndour hurt him, 'he was trying to protect his owner, like a good guard dog' Michael reasoned. The Houndour had started licking the mans face, further melting Michaels already soft heart. The man had woken up and started petting his dog's head, grumbling something incoherent. Michael helped the man sit down, the pain in his leg was too much to help him stand up.
- "I… I’m so sorry, I g-guess he… he got scared when…. When he heard you… he bit you, didn’t he?..."
The man was addressing Michael, which surprised him because he was expecting a telling off.
"He did, sir, but don't worry. He was doing his job, protecting you. I could learn something from a pokemon like your Houndour." Michael replied, mind wandering back to his lost Panpour. His mind snapped back when he heard the elderly gentleman reenter a coughing fit.
- "There is a last d…dose of antibiotic in my… in my room, lad. Some p..painkillers left too, I reckon… - he smiles at his Houndour before continuing. – Heh, I… I guess I won’t be n… needing them no more, so help your…yourself boy. L-least I can do…"
He told Michael, coughing throughout. The Houndour restarted his howling, that restarted Michaels tears. But they weren't tears of fear, they were tears of sorrow. The Gentleman was giving his lifeline to a teenager he had just met. A teenager who had gotten himself hurt because he had to be impulsive. His mind wandered back to Blue. He had already gotten one person potentially hurt, he wasn't going to stand here and let another fall victim to his stupidity. He slowly ambled into the mans room and got the medicine, and returned to hand them to the gentleman.
"No thank you, Sir. This injury is my fault. It'll heal. You can keep your medicine, I don't deserve it. I've got to find my Panpour. It's my fault we're in this mess. If I hadn't just rushed in here..."
Michael's tears were at full flow. The severity of the situation had finally hit him.
"Mr Wolf, urm.. I mean, Houndour, I'm sorry I scared you, I just wanted to help."