Braving the Sands

Word of a town, reconnected at last to the rest of Reignsrest- potentially. A train that might yet work. A desert with an atrocious sandstorm to face, otherwise.

Dialup leaned back in her seat on the shuttle back to the mainland, idly stroking Other's mane. The garchomp hybrid was more willing to accept affection than Mother, resting her head in Dialup's lap while settled on the floor. She was loathe to disturb the creature; still, they had touched down at last. Mother was meditating nearby, and Wattson was sleeping beside Dialup, his flaming mane dimmed to a warm saffron. The jostle of the vehicle as they landed was, thankfully, enough to stir the fighter, and Other. Mother, however, was another matter altogether. Dialup rose as Other sagged to the ground and then stretched in a rather feline way before pushing herself up to her feet. A light tap proved to be nothing to the deep-thinking form hovering ominously at the back- at least until Other grunted. Slowly, the pale lavender form set down her feet, and began to pad along. Dialup took point with Wattson, and shouldered her bug-out bag.

South, towards Ethermoor- a day's journey with the transportation provided, and then... A decision to be made. To allow other Cynics to see her traveling via the bullet train tunnels, or to brave the sands. Wattson would fare well enough either way. The garchomps- well, they were, originally, dragons, and well-suited to the sands. Mother might prefer the cool and shade of the tunnels, with her nearly pearlescent hide. A thoughtful frown tugged at her lips as they made their way overland, day in, day out. Largely, it was uneventful- Mother and Other proved well worth their weight in chrome as deterrents to most pokemon, as any wild predators had to weigh their odds against not one, but _two_ fully grown matriarchs. None of them chose to be dumb.

Ethermoor was ever the contradiction to Dialup. A much smaller city than her hometown of Wintervale, hotter than she was used to- but she wasn't one to complain. In fact, she basked in the heat as they entered town. Rumors abound about the ceaseless thunderstorm had piqued Dialup's interest more than the prospect of just ducking underground to say hi to Jerry, from Cynic accounting, and taking yet another shuttle. A quick query, and Dialup was on her way once more. Supplies gathered- plenty of water, a pack full of rations- hell, even a nera jar or two- packs for Wattson, Other, and Mother. Other glared down at the straps of her pack, but Mother accepted the harness and weight with the outward stoicism that Dialup had come to expect. Trainer and starter exchanged a look, before Dialup clapped Wattson on the pauldron. Off they went. More walking- though now it was nearly night, so the sands were likely going to be cool. Odd, Dialup mused- with all that rain and thunder, one would think this wouldn't be a desert anymore, but a thriving marsh or something.

What did she know, though? She was an old soldier, not an ecologist.