The red feathers on top of its head twitching in anticipation as it rubbed its claws together menacingly.
The yellow dot on its forehead was almost bewitching as it slowly, methodically advanced.
Leo let out a long, slow breath, accepting what was about to happen.
…
The fear he had been feeling drained from his body as he settled, fixing his posture slightly and shifting his attention away from the visible Sneasel.
He could already hear footsteps running up behind him and Leo tensed, whirling around with his staff swinging, catching the leaping Sneasel in the side and sending it hurling away with a yowl of surprise.
In the next second he was swinging back around, forcing the other Sneasel to back off to avoid the swing.
It snarled at him, and Leo did the only logical response.
He snarled back.
“Get back here!” He snapped, advancing on the Sneasel with sharp thrusts from his staff, not unlike how he would use a spear.
The Sneasel hissed at him and scampered off, well out of Leo’s reach but remained visible, eyeing him carefully.
Leo huffed and glanced around, keeping his eyes on the ground and trees above him, slowly backing up towards the lake.
If he could get his back to the water, at least that way the Sneasel wouldn’t be able to gang up on him from all sides, and he might even be able to draw the help of the Slowpoke herd.
The Sneasel seemingly did not follow, and Leo didn’t understand why until one of them dropped onto his back from the trees above.
Sharp claws dug into his shoulders and Leo howled in pain, dropping his staff when icy coldness began to flood through his bloodstream.
The rest of the Sneasel howled in unison, charging forward to attack, abandoning stealth.
The large creature on his back hissed and rumbled, looking far larger than its brethren as it reared back in preparation for another attack, its maw wide open to reveal rows of razor sharp teeth.
Leo moved then, ignoring the pain simply moving his arms brought as he reached over his right shoulder and shoved as much of his hand as he could into his aggressor’s mouth, curling it into a fist around its tongue.
Pain flashed through Leo once more as it retracted its claws and leapt off, its teeth leaving scratch marks on his fist as it choked and spluttered, the slimy tongue slipping out of Leo’s grasp.
The rest of the Sneasel skidded to a halt and Leo risked a glance over his shoulder to get a good look at the Sneasel – no, the freaking Weavile – that had wounded him.
It was tall, shoulder-height at least, with sharp claws covered in a black-ish substance and red eyes that promised death as it glared at Leo.
Leo’s shoulders sagged as he stood there, his arms dropping to his sides as warmth spread down his shoulders.
He growled at the Weavile, who growled back and once more began to advance.
Leo whirled on it and charged, the Weavile’s eyes growing wide in surprise as Leo kicked it in the chest, putting all his strength into the blow.
The Weavile wheezed as it stumbled backward, eyes flashing and claws further unsheathing as it growled hatefully, feet digging into the ground, ready to attack once more –
Only to be sent flying as a pink mass crashed into it, heralded by a furious “SLOOOOW!” The Weavile hissed furiously as it landed, eyes narrowing as it glared at who Leo recognized as King, the Slowpoke livelier now than he had ever seen it.
A blue glow radiated from its eyes, sticks and rocks hurtling from some unseen force at the Weavile, who batted the projectiles away with its claws and breathed out a vicious wave of ice.
King weathered it unfalteringly, growling in the back of its throat.
Jets of water blasted through the trees as the Slowpoke herd advanced, catching a few of the Sneasel off-guard if their yowls of pain were anything to go by.
Leo gulped in relief and fear, glad that the Slowpoke herd had decided to attack, but both afraid for them and for the pain that echoed deep in his shoulders.
The latter he could ignore for now thanks to adrenaline – which Leo hoped meant it wasn’t too bad – but the Slowpoke were another matter.
Sneasel were part dark-type, which meant they had the advantage over the psychic-type Slowpoke.
Sneasel launched themselves with indignant shrieks at the Slowpoke, who retaliated with headbutts and jets of water as they engaged, King duking it out with the Weavile while the Slowbro stayed back, observing the battle with watchful eyes.
Then one fixated its gaze on Leo, its eyes glowing blue, and cocked its head to the side.
This distraction cost Leo, as he mistakenly assumed the Sneasel would ignore him in favor of taking out the Slowpoke.
A dark blur leapt through the air, sharp claws raking across his chest and drawing a scream from him as he stumbled backward, falling flat on the ground.
The Sneasel leapt upon him but Leo, with pure instinct guiding his movements, shoved his feet upward in a kick, catching the little monster in the chest and sending it stumbling away, where a fierce blast of water sent it sprawling.
A Slowbro suddenly loomed over Leo, staring down at him curiously as a wave of pink energy burst from its body, washing over Leo and the nearby Slowpoke.
His chest and shoulders tightened, pain dulling significantly but strength escaping him as the energy soothed him.
Leo let out a breath as the Slowbro moved back once more, its massive spiked tail nearly smacking Leo as he tried to sit up.
Whatever the Slowbro had done hadn’t fully healed him – he still hurt, and the wound on his chest was now a massive scab – but now he could at least defend himself.
Leo looked up, glancing around the battlefield.
There were only a dozen or so Sneasel in the pack – merely half of the twenty or so Slowpoke – but they did have the upper hand.
King was still duking it out with the Weavile, keeping the agile monster at bay for now as they tested each other’s defenses, while the other Slowpoke attempted to gang up on the remaining Sneasel.
The Sneasel, however, had the same idea, and were ganging up on the Slowpoke with a minimum of two per Slowpoke attacked
Anger flared in Leo’s chest as he stood, charging at the nearest Sneasel – who just so happened to be latched onto a Slowpoke’s back, slashing away – and full-body tackled it.
The furry creature yowled in surprise, claws raking at Leo’s arms as he pinned it to the ground and punched it in the face.
The Slowpoke bellowed and bodily shoved Leo out of the way, looming over the Sneasel before smashing the prone creature with its head.
This seemed to set off the Sneasel pack, a collective hiss echoing out in the night as they scrambled away – the Sneasel Leo had attacked slashing the Slowpoke’s muzzle with its claws, blasting Leo with a point-black wave of icy-cold wind from its maw, and scrambling off into the darkness.
Leo fell over from the attack, teeth immediately set to chattering and ice crawling on his skin.
The Weavile was the last to leave, snarling at King as the Slowpoke stared at it unblinking, and breathed a blast of freezing cold air at the herd as a parting gift.
For a moment nothing moved, the Slowpoke staring off into the night, uncaring of their wounds as they made sure the pack was gone.
After a few minutes they relaxed, one by one ambling towards the Slowbro, who stood unharmed in the back.
Leo remained where he was, breathing heavily as he lay flat on his back.
Pain slowly crept up on him, stabbing deep into his shoulders and radiating in waves across his chest, which was bleeding again.
Then waves of pink energy blasted out from the Slowbro, washing over the Slowpoke herd and even catching Leo, as he lay on the edge of their range.
His skin crawled as it stitched itself back together, feeling far weaker with each successive burst of energy, but the pain was lessening and, when he touched his chest tentatively, Leo’s wounds were healing.
He let out a long, slow breath, feeling dangerously close to passing out.
Well, he thought as he lay there, another wave of energy washing over him.
At least I survived.
But now I need to get a fire started before I freeze to death.
He thought with a shudder, sitting up and dusting the snow off of his arms and now-ruined shirt.
The skin on his shoulders and chest pulled angrily as Leo stood, wincing at the sensation, and moved over to his small wood pile, miraculously untouched by the battle.
It took a hot minute for Leo to assemble the kindling and fumble with his matches, not trusting his shaking hands enough to properly use flint and steel, but eventually he got the fire started.
Soon enough a small blaze licked at the wood, the warmth from the flames soaking into Leo’s skin as he fed it.
Satisfied with the size of the fire he lay sidewise, exposing as much of himself as he could to the warmth that slowly chased away the biting cold.
Even a few Slowpoke joined him, ambling over and flopping down next to the fire with low groans.
“I agree,” Leo murmured in response, eyes fluttering shut.
He was coming down from the adrenaline high, and probably was woozy from blood loss or something, but right now he was too tired to rationalize anything.
His last thought before he fell asleep before the fire, was of pokémon.
“I need a pokémon,” he muttered, and slipped into dreamland.
…
A/ N: The Story Needs More Power Stones 😉