(ACE) The FROST Team

Despite the barn doors being closed the space inside was the same bitter cold that haunted the rest of the town. The lack of a breeze did little to stifle the cold, instead allowing the muster smell of old hay and alfalfa to linger thickly in the air. The floor had a layer of dust on it, surely straw dust and dirt alongside literal dust, but it was free snow and moisture. Though Green search the same as the rest of them her gaze kept sliding back toward the blood that smeared the dust on the floor and a spot where it collected the most. The creature had been resting, recovering, and surely did not welcome their unannounced visit. Its continued silence instead of panic could be to their benefit; if it hoped they would not notice it then they may not need to disturb one another.

Green turned her gaze forward once more. They needed to stay aware, it was prudent they did, but their other task still took precedence. Walking around in the enclosed space felt strangely foreboding, likely due to the very real knowledge they were being watched, but Green remained focused on her task. The barn was dirty but not in disarray; neglect and disuse showing stronger than any rummaging or scuffles. Spare axles and tires, a rack with a bunch of well loved shovels, hoes, scythes, and rakes, spare work boots who no longer had a master. Scrunching her face with a grunt Green knew none of these things would benefit them, though the tools may be helpful in a pinch.

Turning away from then she passed a open face divider, and glances at what used to be hay-bales in the corner. While they were protected from the elements the years had broken down their form and degraded their binds, making for a disconcerting pile of straw. A wonderful insulator, and one she was shocked had not been plundered from this place. Not what were here for. A pitchfork was resting to the resting to the side of the heap, another weapon she realized uncomfortably.

"Nothing here. Anything on your end Green?" Jack asked, his fuzzy voice ringing over her translator and forcing her to turn away. "Nothing edible." She remarks dryly. With her search fruitless so far she changed course to move toward Drake. He stared vacantly at decaying ladder, its wooden slats separating and showing the worst wear they had seen so far. Though filled with miscellaneous supplies anyone could see this was a small barn by their standards. Most dual story barns were built was a ramp set of stairs, but this one did not have the size to accommodate them and featured the outdated ladder system more suited for its size. An annoyance, to say the least, as any properly stored items would be up above.

"Climbing isn't going to work. The ladder's pretty much going to break the minute someone steps on the first step. Maybe one of us can climb up on the tractor. Unless someone has a better idea." With a rough exhale Green stared up to the dim loft, any spoils hidden by the angel and shadows. Placing a hand on the damaged stairs she could feel the rotten woods lack of integrity. With a sharp turn of her head she locks her sights on Jack and Kolven, the pair exploring but coming up equally as empty handed. "Im sure you two would be fine." She decrees, singling them out. Scurrying rats and agile cats would make quick work of a ladder, and their lightweight shouldn't overburden it.

ooC)) Skip, Jack looks at Green with an agreeing look. Finn has nothing this round

Watching Clover mess with the can was worrying as it was amusing. She seemed both bored and playful, but the noise was disconcerting. They were hidden here, but if something more sinister was they should try to alarm it any more than they already were. He trilled, calling her attention back to the workbench with interested steps, but he had nothing to hold her to it. "Climbing isn't going to work. The ladder's pretty much going to break the minute someone steps on the first step." Drake's voice trails off, and Kolven wondered what he sought up above. In all the picture books he had seen with the kids hay and straw was stored above, but he did not dismiss the chance at goodies being up above.

"Im sure you two would be fine." With a rising trill the tomcat stared back at Green's intense gaze. Though she did not use their names it was a direct call out, and Kolven's tail quivered at the prospect. Hopping off of the bench he trotted toward the others to get a better view of the ladder. Clover was quick behind him, her hobbling steps key to being left out of the group of climbers. He came to a stop, his tail held high, and the molly responded in kind with slowed steps as he started his investigation. The wood looked questionable to say the least, but with a whimsical purr he hums, "I've seen worse." Unless he was aggressively scrabbling up the planks he looked sturdy enough to hold him, and with a calming breath the cat began his ascent.

It was rickety, rotten wood flaking away beneath his pads in a shower of dust. Legends, was this thing ever outside? Luckily, for his climb it held-fast, and with a final push he made it onto the loft without any event. Still, the rotten wood told enough of its integrity, and were anyone larger, or less balanced, than the two of them to climb he doubted it would last. "Easy enough," he hums to put the others at ease, though his amber gaze was already scanning the higher floor. Hay dust was thick here, old bales bundled high for future use they would never meet, and powered straw covered every surface. The morning sun struggled to reach this angle, casting darkness from the walls and corners that was even worse than the floor below. As he waited for Jack the cat could already feel his pelt starting to prickle with unease. If there was any place for a critter to hide, it was here..

A long, drawn out below called up from below, and Kolven tossed his head back to see Clover staring at him with her strong eye red. She pawed at the bottom of the ladder, but stopped as he called back to her, "Don't even think about it." Legends help him, she would drag the thing down and harm herself if he was not around. "Looks like its covered with tarp but the rope isn't to strong. I got faith in you Kolven if you are able to cut the rope with those claws of yours other than that, I think you and Jack could get it easily." It? Shocked that Drake could see up here at all Kolven scanned for the something in question. It wasn't hard to spot the tarp, the protective layer hopefully keeping any spoils safe despite the neglect. "I see it I see it." He confirms before padding off with swaying steps.

The cat made quick work of the ladder, the creaking, crumbling wood managing to support his bulk as he ascended. Drake gave instructions from there, something she was no longer needed for, and Green instead continued to scan the main floor. It seemed it was a bust; while the barn had many miscellaneous items they could theoretically use none of them were of an edible nature. Tools filled no bellies, and she tapped her fingers along her Pokeballs with a knowing sigh.

"Why do humans put food in a strange ice cube?" Maka's voice hummed over her communicator, the barking sound of his voice a stark contrast to the innocent question. Ice cube? Admittedly, the Pokemon from the deep wilds made understanding difficult, but she could not fault him for that. While a fridge was the first thing to come to mind it made little sense for the feral Pokemon to have seen one. A cooler, perhaps? It was bitterly cold here though, maybe in summer? Clicking her nails against her Pokeballs the trainer pushed her mental rambling aside; it mattered not to the original question.

"Keeping food cold keeps it fresh and safe to eat for much longer." She explains as simply as possibly. The complexities of shelf lives, preservatives, freezer burn, and the bullshit that was expiration dates would certainly be lost on him. "You can save food for weeks, months, even years if its stored properly. Depending on what it is, of course." Fresh milk was a thing of the past, and hint of longer fell on the sigh she exhaled.

Finn finished looking around and sat in front of the fire. The flames reminded him of a very small time he actually did get to to sit by a fire when he was younger to keep warm. "Hope you mates are alright. Make it back safely." The Braixen said as he looked at the flames.

The Pikachu hopped up to the next step and heard something crash and it sounded like paint cans. "There's someone else here. It might be what Maka mentioned." Though it would be easier for two pokemon to check it out. Other than that, he and Kolven can check out what's under the tarp.

OoC)) Skip, Maka quickly reacts and turns his head to where the sound came from. Drake continues to look up to help guide Jack and Kolven.

It was passing strange to think about nostalgic foods she would never have again. Green was not one to brood on the past, not anymore, but she allowed herself a moment to wonder in memories of dishes long past. Simple things like potato chips linger on her tongue, a crispness she could never obtain with a campfire or cook stove, let alone having salt to spare for such an indulgence. In this cold place, maybe there was--

A clattering set of thunks and crashes beat throughout the otherwise quiet barn. Instantly Green's guard was back up, fingers tense and tracing her Pokeballs reflexively. "There's someone else here. It might be what Maka mentioned." Jack's voice was soft but came over loud on her communicator. Well no shit. She spits internally, ignoring the familiar Pokemon as she looked for the source of the noise. Twitching fingers touched her companion's sphere, a punch hitting her gut as they counted only four. The other two.. No, she refused to be distracted by emotions, and with only three of her 'mons accessible she let her fingers hover over one Pokeball.

"Show yourself." She commands, tired of the stress, of the unknown, at the looming threat. "We wont keep ignoring you." The blanket statements of "we mean no harm" and "let us help you" meant nothing if the thing turned up infected, and she dared not give it false hope.

OoC)) Skip, Jack is climbing up to the second floor of the barn. Go ahead and have Kolven follow Cinder.

Drake turns his head towards the sound. Since flamethrower and toxic was not recommended, his Hidden Move would be suitable for this situation. "Show yourself. We wont keep ignoring you." Green commands the mysterious intruder to come out. The Charmeleon stood ready to go but when the intruder showed itself, it was a beedrill but his wounds was already to the point that it was bleeding heavily. Just as it comes out, it collapses as if it was dying from its wound. There was no chance of saving it from death.

Maka walks over and is ready to attack should it be infected. Not moving another inch, the mightyena lets out a low growl not breaking eye contact from the bug type. There was no way that he wouldn't let it get the drop on them.

Drake was ready himself but something told him that it wasn't infected and it was wounded by the scythe in the barn. "I don't think its infected. The wound seems to be too clean."

Approaching the tarp with light steps the cat moved with curiosity. The way the light, or lack their of, hit the upper level gave it an odd almost foreboding atmosphere. This doesn't seem very secure, he thinks while padding about the tarp. Truthfully, it was hardly different than being down below, but who was he to judge humans and their strange fancies. Placing a paw upon the weights on a corner, another odd thing for a place with no wind, he gave the tiniest shove when a clattering noise from below made his body go rigid. Instantly his head went high, ears perked and honed for the sound as his tail fluffed up. There was no doubt that their local had caused the sound, a mistake on their part, and as the clanking stopped the barn went deathly quiet.

With a held breath Kolven made hurried steps to the edge of the loft, his paws silent with each footfall as his ears strained for a more accurate direction or worrying sound. Peering over the edge he could see the slight movement of a paint can rolling on its axis, but the culprit was nowhere to be seen. A secondary sound made his blood feel cold; Clover was growling, the low noise getting louder with each passing moment. Her body was already aligned with the location of the noise, primed with a hunters crouch and slow, careful steps. Her tail quivered, desperately trying to stay still and fight the stimulus that had attracted her in the first place. Kolven bit his teeth and made several small, quick huffs to pull her attention away, but the undead had found focus and could not be distracted so easily.

While the sound had pulled the molly in the taste of blood kept in her place. It had been in the air, lingering and fresh, but now the source was so tantalizingly close. With practiced steps she crept forward, completely in her element aside from the hobbled jump every three steps. This was her moment, her hunt, her kill-- "Show yourself. We wont keep ignoring you." The human barked orders, her voice loud and overwhelming to the point the Meowth flinched. After a second her mind snaps back, awareness returned slightly, though the drool dripping from her teeth did not let her interest fade. "Clover get back!" Kolven hissed tensely from above, and facing him she hissed back wet and loud. The moment was lost.

Kolven's tail was thrashing, paws itching to leap down below as the Pokemon unwillingly came out of hiding. It was a familiar figure, a species he knew all too well and that they had spoken about earlier, but it made things no more comforting. After only a few steps it collapsed in a pitiful heap, its performance too superb to be fake. Alarm shot through the tomcat, his amber eyes flicking between the bug and his sister. Which was the bigger threat, which responsibility was he to uphold? "I don't think its infected. The wound seems to be too clean." Drake says a bit too coldly for his liking. He had spoken about a Beedrill here like it was an old friend, or at least a familiar face to him. "Do you know this Pokemon?" He asks, raising his voice to be heard down below. "We need to do something!"

Green's fingers were itching, trigger happy and dancing upon self defense. One Pokeball gingerly tapped her fingertips, ready to called to the field, but she moved it further toward the hilt of her machete. The noise continued, the creature clearly thinking better of trying to hide from them any longer. "Clover get back!" One Meowth called to the other as the undead one got too rowdy by the activity. "Yield." Green orders the 'mon. Her's or not it needed to be pacified, and whether or not her command had any effect the cat backed down as the Pokemon staggered out of its hiding place.

It was a Beedrill. The Beedrill she surmised, as the warm weather Pokemon had no reason to linger in this icy place otherwise. "I don't think its infected. The wound seems to be too clean." Drake commented as the Pokemon collapsed, his response not that of a familiar face or burning concern. Some random then? Her hands curls around the handle of her weapon, eyes scrutinizing the wound. Hemolymph oozed profusely from a deep gouge, the mark clean but deathly serious as its host crumpled to the ground. The bright red color of its eyes was already a bit dim, its life force waning before them.

"Do you know this Pokemon?" Kolven asks, concern bright in his voice as he watched from above. "We need to do something!" It was almost pitiful to see such wasted emotions. "Nothing we can do," She says flatly, grasping the machete and freeing it from her side, "'cept make it quick."

Finn walks over to the door and opens it. The air was getting rather moist and colder. "Where are they? I got a bad feeling about this weather." The Braixen said as he looked up towards the mountains. They was no longer visible to his sight.

In a sigh of helplessness, Jack knew there was really nothing they could do for them. Giving them a final word and making it quick would only work. "Only thing we can do is let Drake talk with him." He then stays close to Kolven, showing he has trust in Drake to make the call. Most likely that the beedrill might end up lose consciousness before death comes.

OoC)) Skip, I'll come back to this tomorrow morning

((Skip, both of them are pacing/walking in place.))

It hadn't the strength to stand, let alone fight back. Staring death in the face the Beedrill had no chance before the six of them in its state. Green was never one to drop her guard but the threat she felt from this Pokemon was nearly nonexistent. A surprise movement, a desperate act, a final strike, even that seemed like a stretch for a being who was unable to bear their own weight.

For all her loathing of the species it would be cathartic to finally rid the world of one of these fuckers, but as Green tightened her grip on her machete she felt nothing of the sort. It was pitiful, enough to make one feel sorry for Kanto's bane, let alone uncomfortable being near a suffering being. Even her grudge couldn't make her wish this Pokemon more agony.

"Only thing we can do is let Drake talk with him." Jack states, assuming as well that this bug was one in the same. Her eyes never left its dull form, faceted eyes losing color at an alarming rate. "Well make it fast." She presses, turning herself away from the Pokemon without taking her sight from it. "Thing won't last much longer."

OoC)) Skip. Nothing changed and preventing a repeat.

Finn sat for a bit, thinking on going outside to get some fresh air. However he’d be leaving the comfort of the warmth that is the mansion. The Braixen gets up and walks into the main hall to head outside. Just as he reached for the door, he had a horrible feeling come over him that something was out there waiting for him to come out into the open. Shaking his head to think this was nothing more than his own mind playing tricks on him. Finn proceeded to open the door and stepped outside. So far, nothing was astray other than the snow slowly intensifying in the distance and coming towards him. He walks through the snow dusted ground and over to Ark’s grave. In his own guilt Finn places his paw onto the grave “I’m so sorry Ark. I’ve made a fool of myself. If you was alive mate, you’d knock that sense into me.” It wasn’t long after that the feeling returned and this time, it wasn’t his mind. Looking over, he seen a man holding a rifle and it was pointed directly at him. Looking closer, it was as Finn thought. The man was his once trainer. Anger grew into Finn and he quickly pulled his stick out. “You should have stayed in jail! Now I’m going to make sure you don’t harm anyone else again!”

The two was in a showdown. Finn versus his trainer in a deathly dual of gun and pokemon moves. The pokemon and his former trainer was at a dead stare down. They react and with Finn making the first move and using his psyshock he attacks however in less in a second the former trainer fired a bullet right into Finn’s chest. The psyshock does what it was intended for Finn’s part. The criminal was hit from it that it caused the killer to start running away and later slump over lifeless but for Finn, his ending wasn’t a happy one. Coughing out blood before it seeps from his mouth, the Braixen was starting to feel weak, cold and light headed. Looking at the palm of his hand, he mustered up any remaining strength to move away and then, he falls onto the grave of Ark. Tears had came rolling down as Finn realized he was going to die here. His last words was not from something he came up with. It came from his heart. “Mates….I lived…..a life that was with crime…..Take care…..and….live.” Not after that, Finn dies from his wound. The end had came for him but out of it, he unknowingly protected the others from this fate.

"Nothing we can do, 'cept make it quick." Green's words were utterly cold, callous, relentless.. and correct. Kolven's heart lurched in his chest, breaking and crying out with each beat as he watched the Beedrill with massive amber eyes. It was dying, there were no two ways about it; the red shimmer of its faceted eyes was already starting to fade, and everything about its posture showed a Pokemon who no longer had the strength or will to fight.

Legends help them, this is not what they came to find.

Cursing his position the tomcat wants to jump down to ground level, but for whatever reason his paws feel rooted in place. Heavy and anchored, he can not console the insect in its final moments, he can not offer it a gentle touch, a soft word, the presence of another in this cold, unforgiving world. Looking at Jack he desperately wants answers, his own comfort, some kind of direction to correct this fucked up situation... But the Pikachu stays close to him, quiet, resolved, and sorrow reflected in his gaze as he watched and let Drake take the stage. Of them all, the Charmeleon had the most right to make a call; this was his hometown, his knowledge, and most of all he knew this Pokemon.

Drake rushed the Beedrill, but despite the alarm the same shocked stupor freezes his steps short and he can offer no comfort, no gentle hand in its moment of need. A familiar face helps it bring forth a spurt of energy, enough to look at them, eyes pleading, as it found the strength to speak one last time. "Tell.. my brother... I'm sorry. Take.. what you need... I... can't feel anything." Even through the humming sound of a Beedrill's voice it was unmistakably agonized as it spoke, its body literally heaving at the tremendous effort it took to speak. The reality was cruel, heavy, and even too much as Drake backs away and wails, "DAMN IT!!!"

The howl breaks the air, freeing Kolven's paws and allowing him to leap down from the second story. Landing, he pauses for a moment verify his own integrity and to check Clover. Even she had come to a stop, her massive red eye locked on the bug's shape but its lack of moment seemed to have curbed her enthusiasm. Her tail still lashes across the ground but her hunter's crouch had died back and she looked on with an almost pitying gaze. "Green- Green please," Kolven begs, feeling just as choked up as if it were his family laying there, "be gentle.." The weight in his chest only grew as he turned away from the insect, face twisting with strained apology. He.. could not watch, he could not be the one at its side in its final moments... He was a coward and only had the strength to be there for one Pokemon this time.

With eyes downcast the Meowth bound after Drake. The pained Charmeleon had stopped in the doorway to the barn and was already freely sobbing as reality hit him like a semi-truck. "Drake.." Kolven breathes tensely on an inhale, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he held back his own shameful regret. "Its hard.. but you must be strong." He urged, the words feeling so meek, so out of place. The Meowth knew all too well that his friend was losing yet another part of his past, his life that he was desperately clinging to, and nothing could ease that pain so easily. But, legends help them, he had to try.

With whirling thoughts and free sobs filling the air Kolven barely noticed as Maka passed them, and didn't quite catch what he was saying aside from the end of it. "---I hope one day that we will cross paths again." Was he talking about the Beedrill returning to the heavens, or the Great Pack as Maka often put it? Kolven was unsure, and did not get a chance to ask before the Mightyena tore off into the snow. He was another local, Kolven reminded himself, and could only assume that this was another local custom or something revolving loss. "He's hurting too." He thinks aloud with a heavy sigh, assuming the canine just needed a moment alone to process the grief. It was too late to stop him anyway, but the cat's heart only broke further as the Mightyena's shape disappeared from view and a mournful howl filled the air. Will it ever end..? Life was cruel, and this merciless world didn't allow one to grieve for more than a moment, but this epidemic only made it so much worse. This Pokemon wouldn't have died if its trainer was here, if humans were around, if it was going about its day normally rather than hiding for its life... Turning his head back to Drake he speaks gently, his own bleeding heart put on pause to encourage the Charmeleon to return to the others. "Come on, we need to stay together." This wasn't the place to mourn; it wasn't safe, it was too open, and a storm was fast approaching.

"He said to... take what we could and to let his.... brother know he tried." Drake instructed the others, and keeping his gaze intentionally away from the spot Green was standing over Kolven clicks and meows to call Clover to his side as he walked back into the barn. After a few moments she approaches him, her paws dirtied with what he could only assume was blood mixed with dust. By some miracle she was not in a feeding frenzy, and with a quick nuzzle against her cheek the tomcat is resolved to bring this sad story to a quick end by getting them out and back to the mansion. "Look for a bag, could you?" He asks her, the task merely busywork to keep her occupied. With a small cock of her head the molly looks curious, maybe even doubtful of his request, but does not argue and hobbles off to some random corner of the barn. Peeking about and pawing at things, it was like the search all over again, but the undead feline genuinely seemed interested in her search. For a mercy, she was doing as told, or at least staying away from the body that could not easily be ignored. As long as she wasn't causing trouble, he could focus..

With a deep breath to settle himself Kolven ascends the ladder once more, and wasting no time heads to over to the tarp. Flexing his toes he grabs at the weighted corners and heaves with all his might, using every bit of his weight to push it aside. After much persuasion a corner is made free, and with a heavy pant he grabs and pulls back the protective cover to see a neatly arranged set of totes. Plastic and wood alike, he could see inside some and assumed they all had precious cargo if not the same thing. Human letters scrawled on tape labeled them, meaning nothing to the illiterate cat, but he cared not as he spotted small pocket shaped packs inside, handmade by the looks of it.

"Seeds.." He gasps at their familiarity, relief oozing on his voice that this was not for naught. "There are seeds up here." He calls down, though with the weight of his swirling emotions his voice was hardly a yell or excited. Hopping about the stack Kolven shoves one crate closer to the edge of the loft, wanting to separate them out before anything else. "Jack, help me move these." He asks for assistance, knowing just how powerful a distraction or just a task could be for drowning emotions.

Poor Drake, Jack couldn't think of anything to say to him. It was as if luck wasn't on their side at all. Even then, if Jack knew how Finn was, he'd likely either ran off or got possibly got himself killed. Not that Jack had hated him but still, he'd rather see Finn leave with his head held high. "Drake.." Jack knew the pain to well, His trainer, dead. No way back home. It felt like a thousand needles stabbing into him but each needle was sorrow. Maybe this was their aria of sorrow they live in. No, the pikachu wasn't going to give up and let sorrow win. "Its hard.. but you must be strong." In these trying times, it was necessary, even if you was enemies with your fellow Pokémon. Granted the undead are mainly a threat, sometimes hatred grows upon a lot of pokemon casting judgment on them without ever knowing. It was how the world worked these days. Jack couldn't bring himself to harm Clover since she's done nothing wrong.

Drake took a few deep breaths before giving a smile though tears was clearly visible. "Th-thanks Kolven. At least... he's in a better place now." Honestly, it was for the best to carry on. They still had a storm to race back to the mansion. With all the tears now slowly coming to an end, Drake resumed standing back and letting Green do her thing. "Hey Green? I know this is a silly question but do you believe in something like we make our own fate?" It was something he heard back when his parents and trainer was still around. If it was just a saying then there wasn't much he really could do.

"There are seeds up here." Kolven said and Jack turned to see. Jackpot. Looks like the seeds are all packed and in a crate. Hopefully Drake's greenhouse is still perfectly intact. "Jack, help me move these." The Meowth asked and Jack nods and goes to help Kolven. From the way it feels though it, it is a bit heavy. If there's hay to cushion the landing, it would make it easier to bring it down without breaking the crate. Jack was pushing one side and with Kolven on the other, it was moving across the floor. Still, Jack felt bad for Drake. It's true that usually it gets worse before it gets better and maybe this is what they're experiencing.

The Pikachu looks over to Kolven and nods to give a hefty push. "Good thing these are packed up. Maybe the greenhouse can grow then to where they're producing a lot of berries and other food." Jack said with confidence. Thinking about below, he calls out to Drake, Clover and Green when she has the chance. "Mind getting some hay gathered up? Don't want to risk breaking this crate open and making a mess."

Awkward? Impatient. Uncomfortable. Flexing her fingers and re-grasping the hilt of her machete Green could feel each second that went by with painful awareness. The Beedrill was dying, it was imminent, yet their urgency was not on par. Drake approached, raw shock silencing him and preventing the 'talk' that Jack had urged. Understandable perhaps, but something one had to force themselves through in such situations. The bug's hissing voice screeched over her communicator, agonized and hardly aware of what was around it. Legends help them, they needed to get this over with. Despite its efforts Drake stepped away moments after, unable to say anything to it before breaking down into a sniveling mess.

With a tense grunt Green grit her teeth. If he regretted that choice later it would not be her concern. Pulling her weapon from her waist she gives a quick glance to the other Pokemon around her. Jack and Kolven looked on from above, the undead watched keenly from beside her but was giving them space. Her gaze slides back over to the mortally wounded Pokemon; none of them would get in her way.

The dying Beedrill had not moved since Drake left, its life literally slipping away before their eyes. Green could approach with minimal caution, but remained aware nonetheless. Rotating her blade she readies the strike, giving the others one last chance to 'speak' to the near corpse. Drake's sobs could still be heard by the door along with a long howl. There was no reason to delay.
With all her strength she brings the heaviest part of her machete down upon the groove between its head and thorax. It was a weak spot in its thick exoskeleton, but it still took multiple hits to properly severe the two pieces. The bug gave a gargling groan but hardly moved, the throws consuming it after the first hit. It was over.

After a few moments Green turns and grabs the nearest cloth she could spot to clean her blade. She says nothing, feeling void, numb to the action she just committed. Slowly wiping the grim clean she allows no thoughts or feelings about the euthanasia in. It was painfully common, necessary, and something she asked of her partners too often.

A new sound comes to ear and Green turns back to the new corpse in the room while holstering her weapon. Within those few moments their undead was already on it, pawing at the fresh wound like some buzzard. Vile. Hemolymph barely seeped from the spot, surely stunted by the cold and state its host had been in, but each touch made the body twitch nonetheless. While Green had grown numb to death it was disturbing to watch a corpse have motion given their destroyed planet. Every muscle in her body tenses up reflexively, but she must remind herself what it is she had killed; a bug.

In terms of basic bodily functions and reflexive reactions, the bodies of some insects could survive without a head for at least a few days. If those nerves were still active... Could the virus still take over without the brain? This isnt the place to find out. Making a mental note to test that morbid curiosity later Green already knew her next action; as a precaution, they would have to destroy the body too.

Motion resumed around her, as if the barn had finally taken in a fresh breath. The undead walked away, the insect not worth its attention as the other cat called her name. Whistling one piercing note Green called for her bird. He had not made so much as a sound since flying off, his location unknown even to her, and she waited for him to swoop in. While Drake kept his distance he came in enough to speak, his language carrying uncomfortably past her communicator.

"Hey Green? I know this is a silly question, but do you believe in something like we make our own fate?"

Stifling a grunt Green looks at him with a cold, grey stare. Was he reaching for comfort or sympathy after failing the familiar so hard? Wrong person, pal. Sugar coating only made things worse, even in a sensitive moment the hardened survivor saw no point in it. "You can forge your own path with hard work. Blood, sweat, and tears make things reality, not some bullshit like fate or destiny." Fate didn't bring her to this place, Flamey's borrowed strength did. Fate didn't bring Drake here in the Beedrills last moment. It wasn't something they made, or avoided, or accepted. That was reality, and it had no meaning.

Looking away from him the trainer withholds her realistic views. It was a waste of energy. The familiar whoosh of feathers told her Flamey had entered the barn, and he found a perch to await further instruction. He's still off. It was so unlike him to be quiet, but exhaustion was still plaguing his brilliant eyes and she did not confront him on it.

"Mind getting some hay gathered up? Don't want to risk breaking this crate open and making a mess." Jack called to them, the corner of a crate peeking over the edge of the loft. While Green doubted she was jacked enough to lift the bales, the straps on many of them had already snapped from rot. Their integrity was lost, and they would have to blindly grab armfuls of straw. "We're making a pyre." She answers the Pikachu while looking to her Pokemon.

Caught off-guard Flamey ruffles his feathers before turning his head toward the body and back. For that thing? He asks silently, shuffling his talons in argument, but Green only gives him a nod. Walking over to the piles of straw she grabs a massive armful for her own endeavors. The straps had long since rotted off most bales, so moving a cushioning amount would take eons. Shuffling her hand she reaches for her Pokeballs, but finds her fingers hesitating as they land on a particular ball. Every one of her Pokemon was a precious companions, and never would she play favorites, but it took a great deal of effort to call forth her first partner.

The Wigglytuff plunked down before her, massive, gentle, worn, eyes expecting the worst but surprised to find relatively good circumstances. "Green, is all alright?" She asks, the question expanding further than her broken trainer. Green knew it too well, and had to look away from her dear partner as she gave her command. "Help these Pokemon, please." Grabbing the beheaded bee head by the antennae she signals for Flamey to get the rest, and walks outside knowing Jiggly could infer for herself how to be useful.

With a swoop and one beat of his powerful wings Flamey lands on the corpse and grips it within his Talons. The fae Pokemon looks at him, solemn gazes telling all though no words were exchanged between him. With another beat the bird lifts the body and flies it outside, and Jiggly is left to her own devices. It does not take much to see where she was needed, and with bumbling steps and she waddles into position. "Allow me," she soothes with a wave of one paw. Taking in one calming breath the Wigglytuff readies herself, and starts drawing in massive amounts of air. Her rubbery body expanded, further and further as she drew in more, and quickly became an effective cushion for their cargo.

Kolven had never been one to swallow his emotions. He felt them strongly, acknowledging his feelings for things privately but consistently. Putting them aside for the sake of others was not foreign to him, but given the situation and state of the world he felt a sharp sense of disappointment that there would be no chance to grieve properly. They had already swallowed the grief from one funeral today, one that stung much more keenly, and that feeling would surely build and burst. Yet he pressed on, digging his paws into the crates, totes, and boxes, and shoving them closer to the edge with Jack's help. Thankfully, given their contents they were not too heavy, but the weight was still a lot for the small Pokemon.

"Good thing these are packed up. Maybe the greenhouse can grow them to where they're producing a lot of berries and other food." Kolven nods, though his energy already felt spent and could not express their good fortune properly. "With this sort of care they should still be viable. Plus if they are here they can likely grow in this climate too." The tomcat was not the most knowledgeable about gardening, but the basics of plants still made sense. Frost and cold killed, blazing sun killed, some plants were very delicate. Whatever was here was probably being grown by the local farmer, so maybe their inexperienced paws had a chance.

"Mind getting some hay gathered up? Don't want to risk breaking this crate open and making a mess." Jack calls down to those below. Clover paid him no mind, her body still on edge at having her kill taken away. It did not bleed like she wanted, its exoskeleton not reacting to her claws like she wanted. Even the smell of the flesh was wrong and disappointing. Where was the savory scent of freshly spilled blood and meat?! Hobbling her way under a table she swaps at the floor in front of her, skin prickling with a desire to hunt though no prey was left for her. A piece of burlap was wadded up under the table, whether it had slid underneath or was tossed there matter not to her as she grabbed it and aggressively started dragging it back to the center of the room. With a wad of straw in her arms Green steals her past pray again, announcing, "We're making a pyre," instead of assisting with the requested pile.

Nearly tripping over the feedbag as she tries to chase after Green Clover howls, letting her displeasure be known as the bird takes the rest of the corpse off in the same direction. With twitchy paws the cat's eye locks on to the remains of the bee and she follows the pair outside, her desire to hunt smothered beneath a want for food.

Kolven stepped awkwardly about the loft above, calling to his sister in a bid to make her stop, but the molly does not respond, and a new Pokemon of Green's forcibly draws his attention away. It was another familiar species for them, a bubbly Wigglytuff with tired eyes. "Help these Pokemon, please." was all Green said, Clover's antics not causing alarm though Kolven still felt on edge. It did not help with the straw, instead bypassing it altogether. "Allow me," she opens to her act, and the Balloon Pokemon starts to inflate as its name suggests. Within moments her body was rotund and bouncy, like one of those inflatable pads that firemen used. Were the drop any higher he would have worried about the crates hurting her, but her volume had also reduced the height of the coming fall significantly.

"I hope this is alright." He confesses, still apprehensive about dropping anything of weight onto another Pokemon. But the Wigglytuff had taken up to the task of her own accord without a single complaint, so he sidelined his fears in place of trust. "Much appreciated." He says instead, and with a signal to Jack helps shove the first box overboard into their springy cushion. As it made its way to ground level Kolven spotted the sack Clover had dug up for them. It wasn't much, but at least it was something they could use once these were down. "Another one," the Meowth huffs as they push a second box, and with tired enlightenment says, "Do we actually need that many seeds...?"