Some wild birds flew through the twilight air, their shadows black under the setting sun, emerging from some trees a little ways away. Mary took no heed of the fleeing Pidgeys, the few remaining that were still alive. "In a garden..." responded the Eevee, rather quietly. "We met in that garden too," added Garry, the Honchkrow, tilting his head to reveal the blue rose on the Big Boss Pokémon's head. Mary blinked slowly, looking to and from the Eevee and the Honchkrow, her blue eyes wide. "Wow, they're both so pretty! I have a rose, too. A yellow one," Mary said with a grin, pawing through her fur, spreading it and shaking out the plastic yellow rose that she normally kept hidden. She put it down on the doll's lap before looking back at Ib with the smile still on her face, before she broke into a giggle. "Woow, Ib's rose is red! My rose is yellow! I like yellow, but I also like pink... and blue! I really like blue," she added, eyeing the pretty blue rose on Garry's hat-like feathers. It looked so pretty to her, a lot more than her own, fake yellow rose, though the Jolteon loved it too. It was a reminder of the short freedom she had.
"Well, hey there!" Suddenly, Mary's attention was cut off by the sound of a newcomer. The creature was up in the trees, waving a clawed arm happily. "Who are you guys? I can't believe I found survivors! Man, It's been AGES since I found someone breathing!...Well, he was going to die, but it doesn't matter now!" Ages? The Jolteon looked at the Weavile with a head tilt and a slight frown. Were living pokémon that rare? But there were three of them, other than Mary [four with the Weavile] right here in front of her. And what was that about dying? Mary caught Garry's expression from the corner of her eyes, the big bird narrowing his eyes and glaring at the Weavile before looking down at Ib. Mary followed his gaze, staring down at the bright, silver Eevee. She seemed scared. Of course, Mary and she were still children! But why wasn't Mary scared, in a situation like this?
"B-blood," the Eevee stuttered. Now that she mentioned it, there was a spreading scent of iron and death in the air; and it was fresh. "It's not too far from here; someone died." Mary stared at Ib, her face forming a little frown. "Huh? You're worried about that?" she asked, ears flicking at her sister's worried expression. She was looking at Garry again. Just what was so special about that bird? And the new Zorua, too. Ib kept looking at the gray fox more than she looked or talked to Mary herself. "It's just blood," the Jolteon mumbled, looking down and away into the bushes, holding a paw over her doll and holding it a bit closer to herself.