FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The sound of crunching gravel was a comfort to Joan. Her paw pads had been toughened by countless years running the back alleys of Rustboro City. She had met pokemon in the past that were new arrivals to the city, and they had voiced their wonderment at how anyone could adapt. A concrete jungle was nothing like the verdant forests or grasslands most pokemon were raised in. With towering buildings and densely packed streets, Joan could imagine how it might be too much for some people to handle.

It wasn't something she had ever had trouble with. Even when she was young and that first memory of seeing the city in the distance came to mind, she could only remember excitement. This was where the humans congregated, in their metal dens with streets buzzing with activity.

She supposed she was strange in that regard. Where most wild pokemon may have tried to avoid humans, she had found fascination in them. It wasn't built of a desire to be a tame pokemon, no, it was a yearning to be part of a city that seemed to always be moving.

Tonight was no exception to the normal routine of her human neighbors. A coat of fur that had originally been vivid white - now stained a smudged gray - was her camouflage. Bright, red eyes glanced out of the alley she stood in, far enough back so she wouldn't be caught under the streetlights. They hummed faintly overhead, most flickering and a few burnt out, forgotten by their creators.

The southwestern corner of town was considered the poor part of town. Joan had always wondered about this, especially when she would overhear humans speaking negatively about it. It was strange, as there wasn't anything here that didn't please her. The dumpsters were always full, the salty sea air masked the acrid odor of vehicles belching their dark exhausts into the air. Even the humans seemed friendlier.

That was to say, they didn't call the pokemon catchers on her.

Joan knew she must have seemed like more intimidating fare than what they were used to. With a wickedly pointed head blade and piercing eyes, the disaster pokemon cut an imposing figure. Add in fur that was darkened by city living, and she had built a bit of renown for herself.

She knew how some saw her species. Harbingers of destruction, omens of chaotic intervention. There were those that still clung to the belief they created the disasters they foretold.

Another set of headlights flashed on the brick wall a few feet above her head, reminding her to keep her head down. The night was young, and it wouldn't do well to spend it running from humans that saw fit to cage her. It wasn't like they could hold her, anyways. Sometimes reputations were fitting. Hers certainly was.

To live on the streets for so long required a level of wily intellect and acumen that most pokemon couldn't perfect. Those few that eluded capture for long enough were almost revered as celebrities amongst the public. Sure, that meant she had the occasional trainer from out of town arrive to try and capture such a notorious pokemon. It wasn't anything she couldn't handle, it never was.

The vehicle passed by, trailing a cloud of exhaust that made her curl her nose up in disdain. She would have thought she'd be used to it by now, having lived her whole life here. That humans could live in such close proximity to such contemptful pollution would never make sense to her. In the grand scheme of things, she supposed it was a trifle deterrent.

Most pokemon weren't as hardy as she was. Most pokemon didn't see the home of the humans and think they could make it their own. Most pokemon didn't have the same daring personality as her.

That was what she told herself whenever she doubted her path in life.

Joan walked out of the alleyway slowly, stepping on to the cracked sidewalk with long, measured steps. Her head was on a swivel, constantly moving around, listening for anything other than the plaintive coo of pidoves or vehicles in the distance. This late at night, the sidewalks were empty outside of the normal vagabonds or late night revelers. Her interactions with these humans were always amicable.

The ones that lived on the street treated her well. They shared what meager morsels they were able to gather, and in return she made herself as useful as she possibly could. Be it clearing out unruly pokemon that might try to edge them out of a home, or by locating certain items that made their lives even minutely easier. It wasn't something she normally liked doing often. Having someone rely on her like that always made her feel like she was owned.

Like she might as well just allow them to capture her in one of their shiny, red and white balls.

Still, they had their uses. Uses such as being able to walk around without having to worry about being accosted. That was what brought her to the edge of the west district, close to the beltline where the streets grew more maintained and the buildings more posh. The storefronts here weren't secured with iron bars or metal shutters over the doors. The windows weren't greasy and smudged by the putrescence of the city, rather, she could see herself in them as she walked past them.

They drew her gaze in, to shops that while bathed in darkness were filled with all manners of things she could never hope to understand. Humans were strange creatures, that was what she had always known. The store she passed now sold bright, shiny stones to humans, most of them inlaid on shimmering bands. They looked pretty, pretty enough that some pokemon took a liking to them.

There were some, like a certain sableye she knew, who would trade decently if she were to find such a thing. It could keep her in food and freshwater for a month, should she be lucky enough to scrounge one up while digging through the gutter. Joan paused in front of this window once more, trying to memorize the circular shapes mixed in with teardrops hanging from chains. There were so many different varieties of them, sometimes it was just easier to take anything shiny she found to her fence.

The number of times she could recall being turned down for producing a shiny bolt or bottle cap were numerous.

She turned stiffly, disregarding the display windows full of valuable baubles and ornaments. Tonight, she had plans.

In the upper-class neighborhoods, the buildings weren't as densely packed. The brick facades kept their natural, red sheen, clean of the gunk that sought to stain every surface. Out here, little yards were kept behind wrought iron fences, the uniformity of the human dwellings broken only by the occasional memento. The one she passed now had a swing set in front, the yard littered with a variety of toys she had seen young humans playing with in the past. The one next to it had a small garden growing in the front yard.

Her stomach rumbled when she picked up on the scent of ripe oran berries. She could see the blue fruit hanging from the vine, thick and plump from meticulous care. It was almost tempting enough to try to find a way at them, but Joan wasn't that foolish. Most humans protected what they considered valuable, and this one was no exception. She could see the steadily blinking red light in the corner of the yard, her knowledge of humans telling her it was a sensor light.

She had made the mistake of being caught in one of those in the past. It had ended with her nearly catching a fireball to the face when the ornery human stormed out with a leashed flareon. If they knew how good they had it, Joan was certain they wouldn't have gotten so up in arms over such a minuscule thing.

In truth, having the monotonous uniformity of the city broken up like this was rather interesting. Seeing how these humans lived with their little, gated yards made it seem like they had their own territory carved out. In some way, she supposed it was comparable to the livelihood she had fought for in the back alleys.

The streetlights forced her to keep a close perimeter to the metal fences, her flank brushing against the cold metal steadily. It was so much brighter here; the streets empty of trash or stray pokemon. She had gotten so used to the presence of others that to be on these deserted streets was rather jarring. It screamed that she wasn't supposed to be here.

Normally, she wouldn't have been moved to such extremes. That things were getting harder to secure meant she needed to improvise. Greater risks for greater rewards.

She sighed softly under her breath as she passed a home with a large, white statue in the shape of a dragonite in front of it. Joan could only imagine what it must have been like to care about such a thing. She stopped to glance at it, her head tilted when she noticed the spray of water that was pouring out of its mouth. It arced through the air, crystal clear and bubbling merrily as it landed in a small fishpond at the base of the statue.

Money and wealth weren't a concept that was lost on her. From her destitute friends of the human race, she had learned all about the haves and the have nots. It seemed unfair to her, that some at the top could take all they had and not give it away to those at the bottom. At least being a pokemon, she didn't have to worry about such things. Those of your race seemingly uninterested in your wellbeing was an alien concept to her.

There weren't many absols that passed through the city. Those she had seen were the property of humans. She couldn't bring herself to call it anything other than that. They lost their say in autonomy for the promise of basic necessities and companionship they could have found elsewhere.

Even though Joan felt this way, she couldn't deny she might have changed her mind if the circumstances were different. As it were, she couldn't see herself living anywhere other than the city. The wilds held no sway over her, their siren song having been covered by the sound of city life for so long that she hardly remembered that clarion call. The thought of having a trainer take her away from her city...

It made her cringe. For all its negative parts, for all the failings and the visible marks it had left on her, she couldn't leave it. It was her home, and this was where she was going to stay.

Sometimes she dreamed of climbing to the top of one of the skyscrapers, just to look down on the city. From bird pokemon, she had been told how small it truly was, how it paled in comparison to some of the human cities. It seemed asinine to think that way. Her perspective had always been from the ground, no matter how much she wished she could see it from above.

She was certain if that dragonite statue was the real thing, it wouldn't allow the surly bonds of earth to keep it bound. It would spread its glorious wings and take flight, basking in the warmth of the sun's rays, high above the smog that had started to darken the white stone. She chuckled and shook her head, the thought briefly hitting her that she might have been as white as that statue at one point in her life.

Joan wondered if she'd feel differently if she were human. Ambition and dreams could only take you so far when you walked on all fours. Would complacency dictate she was content in life? Would she keep clawing to get more, possibly never finding that solace she had been craving?

These thoughts were dashed with a shake of her head. She had far more pressing matters to attend to. Food and water were far more important to worry about, she could go without self-actualization if it meant having a full stomach.

Towards the end of the deserted road, she found the house she was seeking. She knew it was the one she had been searching for as soon as she saw the copious amounts of holes dug in the front yard. They ranged in size, small enough to be little more than a diglett hole to large enough for a human to fall in. Patches of dirt spoke of past excavations being filled back in, but it seemed like the owner hadn't had the time or effort to keep up with it.

Her nose tilted upwards, and she snorted when she caught a strong whiff of the odor exuding out. The scents of the city had always been in the background, constantly polluting every breath she took. This cut through it. It was a spicy scent, undeniably masculine in origin. No doubt about it, then.

With a huff, she took a few steps away from the fence, giving herself the opportunity to examine the obstacle in her way. The posts were pointed at the top, an ornamental design that left no doubt in her mind it would hurt to come down on them. It stood at only five feet tall, a height she had cleared multiple times in the past, but not one she felt comfortable attempting.

Luck was on her side. A garbage can had been set on the curb, and with a swift headbutt, Joan knocked it to the ground. The ripe contents spilled out on the sidewalk, the initial sound ringing out causing her to tense up. When it became apparent no one was going to come and check on it, she moved onwards.

Normally, she would have taken this opportunity to dig her muzzle into the garbage bags. They were - relatively - fresh, and while she was curious if the trash in a richer neighborhood tasted better, she didn't have the time.

Her informant amongst the humans was usually never wrong about these kinds of situations. It helped that he had produced a newspaper, old and muddled from the elements. It was from a year ago, a local interest page that the paper put on.

On it, sitting behind a row of bright, shiny stones was a small growlithe. It looked uncertain, caught mid-camera flash with his ears beginning to fold down. A pair of humans rested on either side of him, a man and a woman. Both were dressed in the higher end clothing she had come to associate with the wealthy amongst their kind.

The caption had read "Diggin' Damien Does it Again". Humans found the weirdest things interesting. Whether it be a dog that seemed to have a knack for digging up evolutionary stones or a gaudy fountain, they truly did enjoy the most asinine of things. The article had gone on to state that this was just another batch of stones he had found when the couple took him on a weekend hiking excursion. Then it mentioned what they were going to do with them.

Keep them.

They didn't have any plan to sell them off. They wanted to keep them, stating it wouldn't 'feel right' to give away Damien's findings like that. She had scoffed when she looked at the nervous face of the young canine in the newspaper. If she had that kind of knack for finding stones, she wouldn't let a human dictate what she would do with them.

Still, if she could snag just a couple of those stones...well, her friends in the alleys wouldn't have to worry about money for a while. They had no use to her, after all. Her kind didn't evolve or change, they were stuck like this their entire lives.

Did she resent Arceus for not allowing her kind the ability to change? Sometimes she did.

With the trash can as a base, she was able to easily hop over the wrought iron fence. Her paws landed on the soft, loamy earth with a dull thud, the sound being swallowed up by the stillness of the night. With a fence behind her, she undeniably felt a sense of agitation. She didn't like to be penned in; it made her feel like she was stuck here if something were to go wrong.

She had seen the holes from the sidewalk, but she hadn't realized just how littered the yard was with them. Even with superior vision in the darkness, she found herself stumbling over patches of earth she thought stable. She cursed under her breath when she nearly face-planted after one such incident. It was unusual for her to walk on soft grass, she realized with a plaintive smile.

It struck her that she missed the feeling, and in that moment, she paused to simply savor it. The cool dew coated her paw pads, calloused as they were from constantly walking on gravel. There used to be a city park she would go to when she was a young pup. She frowned bitterly when she thought of the apartment building that had been erected on it, rendering it a private estate where she was shunned.

Joan closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, before nearly jumping out of her fur when the silence was suddenly shattered. A soft, rhythmic chirping rang out, a joyful, yet melancholic noise. It set her ears to perk before she found the source of the noise; when she did, she immediately smiled.

She hadn't heard crickets in a while. They never seemed to come too deep into the city, at least, the parts where she frequented. Roaches were a constant nuisance, nothing at all like their more melodic relatives. After going still for so long, they had restarted their joyous chorus, letting it fill the night air with airy tunes.

A stab of longing drove through Joan's chest. If she could bite back the pride that stopped her from settling, she would have loved to have this place as a home. No humans, of course, just her own private space that no one could encroach on. No one but the crickets, of course.

She felt that longing sensation with every step she took, her steps growing slower in her approach. It would be a long time before she was able to feel this cool grass, she wanted to at least savor the memory of it.

One of the larger holes was located just next to the sidewalk leading up to the house. It was noticeable only because it was surrounded by yellow 'caution' tape. It set her to whistling in appreciation, the thought that one little growlithe could dig something like that admittedly rather impressive.

A glance down into the hole, and she found herself chuckling. At the bottom, surrounded by muddy earth was clearly a metal pipe. It had been split open, most likely by an errant, overeager digger. The scent of damp earth drifted upwards, leading her to believe right away it had been a water pipe to the house. She bet that had given him a rather big surprise. It almost made her feel bad for the poor fire type.

The front of the house was all metal and plaster, a prefabricated building that didn't clash with any of the similar homes surrounding it. It was two-story, tucked in with paths on either side leading to a back yard. The windows were darkened, curtains drawn to block any attempt she had of viewing inwards.

It gave her the sense she was being watched, no matter how ridiculous she thought that might be. Still, you didn't live in the city as a wild pokemon this long without erring on the side of caution.

She hoped she wouldn't need to actually enter the human's domicile. If she had to, she didn't think she'd have the nerve to go too far. If nothing else, she could come back some other time. There was nothing wrong with scoping out a potential target. That was something she had been taught by an experienced thief.

Joan meandered towards the side of the house where densely packed bushes were placed in a row. It was darker back here, giving her a sense of relief when the shadows swallowed her. They had always been the blanket that comforted her, a swaddle that could soothe her racing heart.

The dark fur she wore wasn't just a stylistic choice, or due to a lack of clean water. It gave her the ability to hide much easier than her white fur allowed. Joan didn't like being seen, enough encounters with humans told her that they didn't like seeing her either.

Past the corner of the house, she now found herself in a small, enclosed backyard. There was a wooden fence back here, on the other side of which she knew to be the alleyway. It was much larger than the fence in front, resting in a concrete base that would have dissuaded any attempts to dig under it.

The only curious part of it was at the center, where a gate broke the uniformity of it. Set in the base was a rather large hatch. It had to have been a recent installation, still bearing the scent of fresh plastic. A small red light near the base of it made her assume it functioned the same way as the automatic light in the other yard.

It was a sensor. For a pokemon to come and go? It certainly seemed that way. Her claws dug into the soil, her legs tensing up when a thought came to mind.

Why would a little growlithe need such a big door?

Urgency filled her motions immediately after. She hadn't noticed it at first, but the scent of canine had been lingering in the air. It had been weaker out front, nothing at all compared to the prominence it had in the back yard. Just like the front, the back was littered with deep craters and sloppy attempts to fill them back in. While her eyes swept across the backyard, she froze when she saw it.

It was a surprisingly large building tucked against the back corner. Joan had never seen a dog house this big. It stood as large as a shed, rich, textured brown that stood out against the rather drab design of the main home. There was a large entrance out front with a plastic flap set over it.

The closer she got to it, the more she could see. It had ornate patterns carved into the back, most certainly a desire of the humans that purchased it. From what she could smell - that wasn't covered with dog stink - it smelled like fresh wood and lacquer. A door was set on the wall facing towards the house, one the humans must have used to enter and exit it.

Joan smirked to herself. The prominent nameplate resting over the covered entrance read 'Damien' in regal lettering.

So, this is where he lives? She thought to herself, her head tilting slowly to the side. Lucky little brat.

Her paws made no sound as she stepped towards the ornate doghouse, being careful to avoid any pitfall that stood in her way. Now that she had a sense of balance back, she had no trouble traipsing over them.

She hadn't realized her hackles were beginning to raise. Her tail was flagging slowly, an instinctual sign of aggression that she couldn't quite control. This was it, if he was in there, she would have to...

Joan was suddenly taken aback at the thought. If he was in there, would she have the nerve to actually demand the stones from him? Try to ply him by saying they'd be going to a good cause, that he'd be helping those bereft of sustenance living on the streets? She cursed herself. This was something she should have decided on sooner.

There was no time to think about it. Her instincts and natural guile had never led her astray in the past. Right now, they told her to throw caution to the wind and see what awaited her on the other side. Some posh little growlithe wasn't going to deter her, even if she had to get abrasive with him.

It was soon proved that her worries were unfounded. She heard the silence as soon as she pressed her forehead to the plastic flap, a massive wave of relief washing over her. Stepping inside, she found herself in an admittedly cozy, enclosed space that was surprisingly quiet. It instantly felt like the presence of the city faded away, leaving her in the soft, dull glow of an overhead light.

The floor creaked softly under her paws, wooden boards that had been scuffed by constant use. A mat had been put down, cheerfully bearing the word 'Welcome!', rendered nearly illegible due to the coating of dirt that covered it.

A large, plush bed lay against the far wall. It was clearly meant for canines, circular in shape with a slightly pronounced edge to give it shape. The interior looked to be full of soft, downy material, a few pillows scattered about mixed in with an assortment of toys. One, a plush snom sitting in a place of reverence in the center, looked to be rather well-loved.

For a little growlithe, the bedding was enormous. She was certain she could lay any which way on it and be comfortable. It was a far cry from the bed of old cardboard and newspapers she had waiting for her when she got home.

Despite herself, Joan found herself smiling. This dog certainly lived in the lap of luxury. A food and water bowl had been set out towards the side, the former nearly overflowing with an attractive smelling mound of kibble. She wasn't above eating the food humans gave their pokemon, though stealing his dinner seemed like adding insult to injury.

That the bowl was big enough to constitute a feast wasn't lost on her. If the growlithe wasn't overweight from how his humans apparently fed him, she would have been shocked. An aching rumble in her stomach tempted her, making her mouth water. One bite probably wouldn't have hurt anything...but that could come afterwards.

The wall opposite the human's door had been decorated with a variety of objects. Her heart leaped in her chest when she recognized what she was looking at. Resting on a small shelf were numerous stones, each bearing the elemental symbols that clearly designated what type they were. A lightning bolt, a drop of water, a leaf. It made her giddy and led her to forget her caution.

Right away, she realized there weren't a lot of them. A precursory glance told her there only seemed to be one of each kind, and she frowned when she remembered the picture in the paper. Her frustration was only heightened when she noticed the wall had been plastered with more of those newspaper clippings.

Each one showcased Damien, showing him with another haul of stones. He always looked apprehensive for the camera, always appearing with the male and female that were dressed so nicely. She hadn't noticed it before since the picture she had first seen him in was so faded. His paws were dirty in every picture, so unlike the clean image his owners projected.

"Damn it. Damn it, damn it!" She cursed.

This was a decent haul, make no mistake about it. These would move fast, getting her access to the money she could definitely use for her friends.

She had hoped it would be a pile, something no one would notice if she took a few from. This display told her that these were special in some way. Maybe they were the first he had found, a matching set that reminded him of previous excursions. Maybe he looked at these fondly every night before bed.

Joan sighed and felt her ears drooping. All of a sudden, this didn't feel right. Sure, she had taken small knick-knacks and trinkets in the past, always things that wouldn't be missed.

Trepidation stole her willpower away and she bit back the bile that was rising in the back of her throat. Fine, she wouldn't take those. The damnable, spoiled brat could keep his meager trophies, however...

She smirked when her eyes alighted on the huge bowl of food.

Joan had been just about to take a step towards it before the entire doghouse suddenly rattled, as if a large weight had pressed against it. The soundproofing on the walls had dulled her senses, preventing her from hearing the approaching footsteps. Now, she regretted not paying more attention, for pushing itself through the doorway was no puny growlithe.

Her heart threatened to leap from her chest when she saw the colossal head pushing through the flap. It hadn't seemed to notice her, massive jaws wrapped around a dark rucksack that drug along the ground. The soft chime of stones clinking together sounded from within, the only noise that filled the enclosed space. If he had realized she was there, he certainly didn't show it.

Around its neck was a large, fluffy mane of fur, burnt orange in coloration, like the setting sun. That scent of raw canine hit her nose again, this time mixed with the arable odor of damp dirt. There didn't seem to be any dirt in the magnificent coat of fur, rather, his two extremely large paws were covered in it.

Joan tried to remember the last time she had seen an arcanine. They were a rare breed, even amongst the human's servants. Thinking back on it, she had never seen one in the wild before. This one was immaculately kept, his broad shoulders barely pushing through the frame, and even then, he struggled. There were a few on the police force that had given her a hard time in the past.

His full form easily took up a third of the doghouse, and even then, she felt incredibly crowded. The air was sucked out of the room, replaced by her desperate breathing, no matter how hard she tried to keep herself quiet. He was absolutely enormous. She swore she had seen rapidash smaller than him.

He had turned, pressing his muddy paws against the welcome mat she had stepped over on her way in. With a surprising amount of gentleness, he began to wipe his paws clean, allowing the majority of the dirt to collect on the shaggy material.

She didn't realize she had been backing up until she bumped against the wall. Her tail had flagged, and no matter how she tried to stop it, her fur had begun to fluff up. It had always been a giveaway for her agitation, no matter how she tried to control it.

Her ears twitched as soon as she heard it. He was humming under his breath, a rumbling noise that was partially muffled by the bag. There was no denying this had to be Damian, no longer the growlithe he once was. The bed and food bowl, the size of the hole out front, she cursed herself for not realizing it sooner.

All the signs had been there, just waiting for her to piece them together.

The humming abruptly stopped after the arcanine had released the bag. His large nose twitched once, then again, before his gaze shot in her direction. Even in the dim light, with her dark fur, the arcanine's widening eyes indicated that he saw her.

There weren't many options she could take. The door was to her left, useless as it would be to a creature with no hands. His massive form stood in front of the flap, perpendicular to it and blocking the entrance. A sensation of being trapped, of being unable to get away washed over her, accompanied by desperate ennui.

Joan wasn't going to be trapped, not by him.

His mouth had been working uncertainly, opening and closing in rapid succession. It gave him the appearance of a magikarp gasping, pulled from its domain and forced onto solid ground.

"W....What are you doing here?" He challenged her. "This is...this is my house." His voice was deep, the tone enough to set her trembling. It sounded too much like the police arcanine. He had begun to speak again, even though she hadn't answered him. "Oh, man! You tracked mud everywhere, come on, my trainer's going to kill m-"

She struck before she realized what she was doing. She couldn't go around, under, or over him, the only solution was to go through him. Her paw came down hard across his muzzle. Her claws she kept retracted; this wasn't meant to be an attack as much as an attempt to move him. The blood was pumping in her ears, the adrenaline flowing and boosting her reflexes to higher levels.

Joan felt like she was punching a concrete wall. The arcanine barely flinched from her attack, his face briefly turning away in shock before he looked back at her in pure shock. She readied herself for a counterattack, her front legs tensed to dodge should he throw one of those gargantuan paws in her direction.

It never came.

She might as well have been Giratina themself. The arcanine shrunk back, massive rear end bumping against the shed and causing the stones to rattle on the shelf. He looked at her like the specter of death itself had invaded his home, fear evident in the way his tail had tucked between his legs.

"S-Stay back, I'm...I'm w-warning you!" He stammered. His paws skidded on the floor and he yelped as his footing gave out, dropping him to the floor before he scurried over on to his side. "I-I can fight, I know how to u-use Ember!" He rolled over again, this time landing on his plush bed. His ears had flattened against his head, leaving him

Joan hadn't realized her jaw had dropped a few inches at the spectacle. This arcanine was...afraid of her? It didn't seem real. He was easily twice her size, packing enough muscle to upturn a car, not to mention possessing a set of fangs that could do an unimaginable amount of damage to her. Yet he cowered before her.

"P-Please...go away..." His voice had cracked, leaving him sounding much weaker than his stature would have suggested. "Why are you just standing there..."

She hadn't realized she had been staring at him. It felt like she was examining a new species of insect, a fascinating, yet mystifying discovery that left her baffled.

"Why aren't you...fighting back." She didn't ask, she demanded this. It proved to be the wrong choice, as he flinched and lowered his head as soon as he heard her. By now, he had started to curl up around himself, protectively wrapping the snom doll in his abundant fluff. "I didn't hit you that hard."

"You still hit me! I don't even know you, you're in my house, and...and..." he had started to breathe quickly. His chest swelled and distended with every deep lungful he took, the temperature in the small space increasing exponentially with the agitation the fire type was feeling. "I want you to leave. Please, just leave."

Joan could have turned and walked out of the doghouse. It would have been easy, hell, she could have grabbed the rucksack he had brought in with him. He was in no position to stop her, especially since he noticeably flinched every time she glanced in his direction. It was admittedly rather pathetic, and she hated that it was eliciting a swell of guilt in her chest.

"I..." she started, swallowing to clear what she really wanted to say, "I'm sorry I hit you." When he didn't respond, she pressed on. "You're Damian, right? I thought you were supposed to be a growlithe."

"And I thought I wouldn't need to worry about strange pokemon breaking into my home...then attacking me." He tucked further back when she turned her bright, red eyes on him. The massive fire dog allowed his eyes to drop after a moment, a clear sign of canine submission. "I just evolved. What do you care?"

Joan sighed before taking a small step back. "I said I was sorry. I was scared," she swallowed, "you don't have to forgive me."

"Believe me, I won't." An uneasy silence fell over the room, the air sucked out of the room by their awkward introduction. She was about to leave before he hesitantly cleared his throat. "Were you...hungry, or something? I've never lived on the street, but...I doubt you get a lot of food."

His attempt to rationalize her intrusion made her realize he might not put such a high value on his belongings as she did. She nudged the rucksack at her feet, allowing a few dirty, dull stones to tumble out of it. To her untrained eyes, they looked like any other stone you might find in nature.

"I came to get a few stones." The truth flowed forth, no thought of lying to him about this crossing her mind. At his blank stare, she continued. "I have some...friends that live in the alleys. They could get a lot of money for these."

She could have tried to be subversive, lie and say that she had come here for more mundane purpose. She had been considering stealing a bite to eat before leaving of course. Her back leg brushed against the flap of the door, a backup plan, just in case.

Damien's gaze was blank for a few moments, before he blinked and nodded. "Oh, oh yeah! My owners are always saying people really like them." A thump sounded, making Joan jump as his large, bushy tail gave a single wag. "They always get really excited when I find more of them. I always get a bunch of new toys when I bring them to my owners! Last time I found a bunch, they bought me this new doghouse, and the bed, and-"

Joan's attention began to falter when he trailed on about all the nice things his family had purchased for him. The realization had hit her soon enough that it felt like a blow to the chest.

Besides the bag of rocks at her feet, and the shelf of prestigious stones on display, it sounded like there wouldn't be any other riches to be had. To live in a home like this had to have cost a lot of money, money that had been raised on the back of the canine's labor. Joan sat back on her haunches, her ears twitching when she came back to reality and realized he was still speaking.

"-the yellow ones smell like the air before a storm. That's how I always found them. The blue ones always make me think of apricorns, the green ones, weirdly enough! I thought there was one in the front yard and well, I paid for that one. My owner made me go out and find more to help pay for it."

He had grown more excited the entirety of the time he spoke, thinking he had an audience that was interested in his hobby. Damien had even begun to sit up, the canine not realizing just how much he towered over her. When she shrunk down on reflex, he tilted his head towards the side, curious at her reaction.

"You don't think I'm scary, do you? I guess that's why you hit me." He asked quickly. "Because ever since I evolved, some of the other pokemon on the block sure think so. They keep saying I could step on them and crush them if I'm not careful. There's one poochyena the next block over that would always stare at me. She's really nice but now she's always trying to get my attention!" His muzzle moved a mile a minute, overloading Joan with his constant barrage of inane commentary.

There was nothing left for her here. That made her slump her shoulders in defeat, and she shook her head soon after. "Damien, look, I'm sorry I intruded on you. I'm sorry I hit you..." Also sorry she had wasted her time with a fool's errand, especially when she had other stuff she could be doing. "I should be going."

His barrage faltered as soon as she made mention of leaving. His muzzle twitched, words trying to form before he let out a whimper unbecoming of someone his size. "Wait, uh...you sure you don't want something to eat first? My owner always said wild pokemon are starving and that we should help them out whenever we can." He smiled faintly, one large paw raising up to brush against his muzzle in a cheeky gesture. "Also, not to hold stuff against them..."

Joan smiled, ignoring the gnawing pain in her stomach. To accept his offer was tempting, more so than she would have thought possible. Damien's smiling visage and the gentle swish of his tail against the soft material of his bed put her at ease.

When you're living on the street, it wasn't hard to learn how to profile people and pokemon. There were a few in the alleys that had taken to more illicit activities to earn their money. A lot of it had to do with how a person held themselves, how they spoke, and their perception. To her, Damien was lacking in all of these areas. If he were a wild pokemon, he would have been kicked out of his den by an opportunistic rival a long time ago.

"No thanks, I don't feel good about taking your food." Especially after everything that had happened. The dog was clearly naive, his maturity in form alone, nothing else. She said, already beginning to turn towards the exit until she heard him call out to her.

"Don't you want to take a few stones for your friends?" When she turned back, he had gotten up and was already, albeit cautiously, approaching the spilled bag. "I...don't really want to give up any of my first stones." He said, gesturing with his large head towards the sack at her feet, "but you can have these!"

Joan contemplated his offer when he pressed a paw against the bag of dirty rocks and pushed it her way. He was so close now that his pungent, masculine aroma was more prominent than ever before. It smelled of rich spices, undertones of mahogany wood complimenting it. She was certain she smelled nothing of the sort, and it was so satisfying to her olfactory senses that she could feel her ears beginning to perk.

"They're really dirty, I know. I promise they're all good ones, though! I've been collecting that pile for weeks now!"

His offer, as well as the genuine, beaming smile on his face - displaying teeth that were so perfectly white they looked like marble - convinced her he was being genuine. Her gaze fell to the bag, and then back up at him, her eyes narrowing immediately.

"Okay, what's your game?"

The accusation was sharp, meant to eradicate any pretense of trickery he might have thought he had over her. He looked surprised at first, before wincing immediately after.

"I was...just saying...you could have them; I mean. You said you nee-"

"No one gives anyone something for nothing in this town. Do you expect me to trade you something for these?" She scoffed, feeling a surge of righteous anger welling up in her. It was born of countless 'deals' she had needed to make over the years, as well as that paranoia that had kept her independent for so long. "I guess you'll want a favor. Maybe you want me to lift my tail for you? Well, what is it, because I've heard them all."

The way Damien's eyes widened made it seem like they were trying to pop out of his skull. His muzzle had dropped at the very suggestion of this, his tail beginning to curl downwards.

"I..I mean, no..." he stammered, mindful of the suddenly angry absol. "I like to give them to my friends, is all...and...you stuck around and listened to me. No one else has really done that since I evolved..."

Just like that, Joan's burgeoning anger was extinguished like a candle's flame. Her defensive side had always been strong, and it began to drop while she sighed under her breath.

"You really shouldn't give others something for free like that. These are worth a lot of money." She couldn't explain to him how many times she had thought she'd been getting a good deal, only to be blindsided by the outcome.

It wouldn't have made sense to him, the innocence in his eyes was as clear as his fur was clean. He wouldn't have lasted five minutes on the bad side of town.

"Yeah, but...you said they were going to someone who needed it. Plus, you were willing to steal for them, so that must mean you really need them..." He continued to urge her on, gently nudging the bag closer to her. "I...can't do too much. I can find these shiny rocks, and I like to give them away."

"I'm not taking them for free." It felt hypocritical. That she would have stolen them from under his nose had at least made her feel like she was working for them. She had also had an image of him in her mind that made him seem like a pompous, spoiled pet. That image was much easier to steal from than the actual thing was proving to be. She was about to turn through the door, already set on leaving.

"Can I come with you?" The request was quick and rushed, as if Damien hadn't thought it through. He seemed as stunned as she was when she turned back to him, and he quickly worked to clarify himself. "Not like...run away from home. I...I only go into the city on walks with my owner." He glanced at the bag of rocks and sat back on his haunches in front of her.

Out of modesty for him, Joan tried to keep her eyes above chest level on him. The temptation called out to her, however, and she allowed her gaze to drop a few inches. The gasp was definitely audible, no matter how she tried to stifle it.

Even in the dim light of the doghouse, Damien was undeniably well-endowed. His sheath was thick, standing out large and proud from his groin. She felt her eyes drawn to it out of astonishment alone. Those few police arcanine she had seen on the street were nothing compared to him, at least, from what she had seen when she was close enough to them. His balls hung low enough to touch the ground, heavy, black orbs that each individually looked to be the size of an orange. That he was able to walk around with them seemed utterly impossible.

Damien had been staring at his front paws, so he didn't notice the slack-jawed stare of his new 'friend'.

"I want to see the city. I...I always get so nervous going out there on my own. There's so much I haven't seen!" He chuckled weakly, "doesn't help I usually have my head in a hole, I guess..."

He continued to gaze down at his front paws, but as soon as he started to lift his head, Joan snapped out of her stupor. She was embarrassed by her sudden interest in the private parts of his body, even if they were so broadly put on display for her. Living on the city streets meant you had to grow up fast, and naivity about sex wasn't something you'd be able to maintain.

"So...maybe...if I give you some of these...w-we could go for a walk?" He questioned her, verbally prodding her for an answer. "It's just...I think it's really cool how you live on your own with no one telling you what to do. No curfew, not having to wear a leash when you go for walks!" He began to speak more excitedly, and before he could go on a verbal tangent, she lifted a paw to silence him.

"Why. Why do you think it's so cool? Not having a warm bed, or a food bowl waiting for you when you get back." She tried to keep the combative tone out of her voice; she found it was easier with him than any other pokemon she had met. He truly did believe what he was saying, it wasn't his fault he didn't know how the world worked. "Don't you like your trainers? What would they say if you ran off?"

He bit down on his lower lip and glanced at the door in the side of the doghouse. She surmised he must have been thinking of that very thing.

"My trainer's nice. He's just...really, really bossy sometimes." His face curled up, and he huffed, a small burst of smoke escaping his open mouth. "Always telling me what to do, how to do it...he said I'd be happier if I evolved." He glanced down at himself, the uncertainty written on his face. "I mean...it's k-kind of cool being this big, and I feel so energetic all the time, but...no one really wants to talk to me."

She was about to continue her line of questioning until he cut her off.

"My trainer's girlfriend is really nice, though! She always has treats for me and gives me bellyrubs." His tail had started to wag at the thought, a faint smile drifting across his muzzle. His ears had begun to drift back while his eyes moved heavenwards. "Says I'm the bestest boy in the whole city. She lets me sleep in the house when my trainer's away..." He trailed off, lost in thought. "So...maybe we could..."

Joan bit her lip to hold back the immediate retort. It was bad enough making her way through the city on her own, to have him tagging along would make it even more difficult. Add in his red fur and bulk was an instant beacon saying 'I'm right here' to any dog catcher that might see them. She sighed, nibbling on the inside of her muzzle and trying to think of a way to let him down easily. Those excited, puppy-dog eyes never left her, even when it became clear right away, he may not get his way.

"Just a walk?" She finally managed to ask. "Nothing else? You just...want to see the city? What happens if you get caught outside your fence?" The most glaring problem with his plan was the main thing that made her apprehensive. She didn't want to end tonight in a kennel on the back of a truck, getting hauled off to Arceus knows where. "Won't your owners get mad?"

"Oh, that's fine!" He stated cheerfully. "I know all the dog catchers, they let me walk around because they know I always come home!" He gestured towards the bag of rocks for emphasis. "I know a really good spot just a couple of blocks from here. That's where I always find a ton of rocks."

With the wealthy neighborhood on the north side of town he truly didn't have to go far in order to reach the forest that surrounded the city. It gave credence to his insistence he had never gotten too far into the urban jungle that had been her home her entire life. She was disbelieving of this mention of the dog catchers; if she thought he was clever enough to lie, she would have pressed him on it.

"Just for the night, then?" She pressed him, mindful of any indicator he might not be telling the truth. Avoidance of her eyes, sheepish expressions, a tensing of the shoulders. It wasn't very hard to notice a liar when you knew what you were looking for. He gave her no reason to doubt his request was anything but honest. Exacerbated, knowing she might have made a mistake in staying around so long, she sighed and nodded. "Alright, one night. I'll take you down to the docks and then we'll come back."

The loud thumping of his tail immediately filled the small room. His front legs tensed, and he positively wiggled in place, barely able to contain his excitement. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise you won't regret it! I'll be quiet and I won't mess anything up. You won't have to worry about anything going wrong! Not that I'd ever do anything to make that happen, I don't want to mess up!"

Joan tried to swallow back the unease that was welling up in her chest. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake with this.