"No, really, I'd rather do it. No offense or anything, but I'm faster than you. I'd be better at it. And don't let these pathetic little nicks and cuts bother you. It's nothin', trust me."
“O-okay...” It was official. He, a big, supposedly strong, Torterra had just proven himself to be about as useless as a leaf blowing in the wind. The poor guy was pretty damn disappointed, though, knowing that he had most likely stood in the way of his frie-no, acquaintance. Actually now that he thought about it, Bass had, more than likely, annoyed the hell out of the Gabite.
Sighing in dejection, the Torterra watched as Rocket cast a wary eye behind him, then, turning back and leaning to the side, noticed a faint light coming from round a corner up ahead.
"There! I bet that's it! C'mon, big guy, let's get the hell out of here. The others will be wondering where we are. Besides, this place is giving me the creeps..."
Before Bass could even get a word out about watching out for those infected, Rocket had shot off towards the opening, leaving the Torterra to bite the dust. ‘Looks like we’re finally gonna catch up to the others. Thank Arceus!’ The day ahead looked bright and promising, but even so, the big, hulk of a pokemon couldn’t shake off this feeling that had settled at the bottom of his stomach, making him feel both unsettled and worried. He didn’t know what the future held, but he had an idea that it wouldn’t be pretty.
Letting out another sigh, this time of exhaustion and fatigue at may lay ahead. The Continental Pokemon really didn’t feel up to running after Rocket and had decided that maybe it was probably just best to take up the rear. ‘Oh well. At least we’ll be out soon.’
“Ah, it feels good to be back.” Bass could only bask in glory at the sweet evening chill that wrapped itself around the Torterra, rustling his leaves as he padded towards the other half of their group, just up ahead. It seemed, though, that the group was involved in some sort of conflict. It seemed Rocket picked up on it too as he turned to the Grass-type. "I can hear stuff going on down there somewhere," he said, pointing his claw. "It might be the others ... c'mon, let's go see." And off he went, towards the direction of the fighting.
‘Of course he would. The guy’s a pretty free spirit, after all.’ On the other hand, however, Bass had decided to just watch the battle from a distance, knowing that he’d only screw something up and make the situation worse. Scanning the area, the Torterra had nearly missed the purple fur Luxray standing by the thick green grass watching his companions. Just then, it’d began to move towards his fr- ACQUAINTANCES! Why can’t he get that right?!
Anyways, back to the situation at hand. The Luxray was making its way to the others, Roaring the whole way there, which had just about scared the small fry off. ‘What is this? That’s an infected, right?’ The pokemon looked infected, but at the same time extremely scared. Even so, the Torterra could only ponder in confusion as to why he felt nothing towards the infected Luxray, no feeling of contempt, rage, worry, etc.
‘Maybe I should just head up there and introduce myself. Who knows, I could make friends with the newcomer, despite its otherwise infected nature.’ And so off he went to introduce himself, maybe even learn his/her story and get over his underlying rage towards all undead bastards. ‘I can only hope my expectations will be met and that this Electric-type meant no harm.’
Last edited by An Optimistic Pessimist on Sat Mar 10, 2012 8:41 am; edited 1 time in total