Sometimes Matsika's foresight proved troublesome, but it was a boon more often than not. It made him strange, and the fact that he was strange made it easier to take strange things in stride. He remained oblivious to the Natu's telepathy, not having been targeted by the psychic bird, but that was just as well. There was something else commanding his attention, and he wasn't just referring to the trainer girl. He... he was hearing things. In his worn-out state, it was like a heavy blanket had been dropped over him; the noises were muffled and distant, indistinct whispers and static. Despite his difficulty in hearing the noises, his feathers stood on end in spite of themselves. The grubby, charred plumes didn't do much to make him look bigger or more intimidating, admittedly, but that sort of instinct wouldn't do much good against disembodied voices anyway.
Matsika did his best to shake off the eerie feeling scraping at the back of his neck and instead looked to the human girl. At first, he eyed her with suspicion. Spearows weren't half as cute or friendly as Pidgeys; they were regarded as pests more often than not. His experience with humans had led him to mark them as a species of throwers: their fledglings threw rocks, and the older ones threw those two-tone round prisons that snatched Spearows away. He had half-expected the girl to chuck the berries at him, honestly. After a moment or two of alternating between watching the girl and looking at the berries lying harmlessly on the ground, he seemed to gather up his nerve, and hastily snatched them up in his beak. He hopskipped a few feet away to eat them, still keeping an eye on the human in spite of the distance. The berries were good; he recognized them as something that his flock had eaten in the wild before. They quieted sickness, eased aches, and took the sting out of wounds.
So the girl intended to help, did she? Seemed the Spearow owed yet another stranger. He'd thank her if had the means to convey his gratitude, but experience taught him that speaking to humans was like chatting with a tree trunk. Pointless; he wouldn't get anything across. Anyway, Matsika wasn't so naive that a handful of food would win over his trust. Even so... the berries did soothe his burning throat and quiet his rasping breaths. His exhaustion seemed to dissolve right into thin air. Unfortunately, with the lifting of his weariness, his senses regained their sharpness. The muted sounds of moments before rose, turning themselves into a cacophony of banshee wails. Matsika did an agitated little dance, as if he couldn't quite decide whether he was trying to take off or remain grounded. "Where is that coming from? Flamedog, greydog, tell me you hear it too!"
-----
Mariel Edwards was not the superstitious type. It was a little surprising that she'd turn out that way, if you thought about it; Lavender Town's history was soaked in the supernatural, and the radio tower's location had anchored it firmly to that eerie past. The employees were prone to believing in the spirits and ghosts lingering around the tower, especially when things started turning strange. Mr. Edwards' daughter, Sarah, was especially superstitious; she insisted that Mariel's bed be placed in the center of the floor, because when the Pokemon Tower had stood, that was the place channelers would purify. Even the bow around the Beedrill's neck was safeguarded against otherworldly attacks; the inside of the ribbon was marked with black characters said to ward off evil. Mariel thought it was touching that her safety would be so important, but she never saw it as necessary.
The only ghosts she had ever seen were Haunters and Gastlies, and she could take care of those with her own two stingers.
Naturally, seeing both Kodent and that two-faced Sentret suddenly acting so peculiarly had Mariel downright confused. Hadn't she already told Kodent that being outside at night was dangerous? The last dying rays of sun were already fading; they really didn't have time to be fooling around. Anyway, Mariel was hardly in the mood to spend any time at all near that Sentret! Why bother peeking into the Center's window when the door was right over there? "Kodent, what's the matter? What are you two looking for? You don't need an invitation to enter a Pokemon Center, you know. You can go right in, they won't mind."
----
There was no light in the Rock Tunnel.
Once upon a time, Kivali knew the sun. She lived in a place that was strong and sacred. She slept next to a stone -- she slept next to mother. A wrinkled old human with gentle eyes had explained it to her once, when she was very small. Mother used to be made of strong bones and tough brown skin, just like Kivali, but she went away and that stone said her mother was resting peacefully. Even though she'd been small, Kivali had understood. Her mothers bones hugged her fragile skin and kept it safe from the Haunter-claws and the bad humans, so Kivali had to keep her stone-mother safe too. She patrolled during the sun-times, when things were bright and humans roamed. If anyone got too near her stone-mother, she fought them off. At night, she slept curled up next to the smooth tablet. The stone always felt cold against her back, but by the time the sun came again, it was pleasantly warm. Just like a mother should be.
But there was no sun anymore.
Dark days came, where the humans were relentless in trying to drive her away from her stone-mother. Some of the other stones were moved out of the tower, and then humans stopped coming altogether. Then came the big noise. Dust and booms and cracks, and the sturdy walls swayed and crumbled around her. That was the first time Kivali showed cowardice; she was scared by the loud noise and the earth-shaking, and she left her stone-mother and fled. The tower fell, and the stone-mother that offered Kivali her life-armor had cracked into pieces, mixed with the tower-rubble, and got swept away into oblivion. Kivali abandoned her stone-mother, and so the sun abandoned her. Now her world was made out of Zubat screams, blind reaching, scuffles with foes she couldn't identify over territory she'd never actually seen. But still, she knew when night came.
Kivali the Calamity knew the night, because that was when dark-mother came. Already, the sirens were howling inside her skull, bringing her towards the endlessly bright cave mouth with sweet shrieks and echoes. Dark-mother was not the same as stone-mother; she had never seen this mother or slept next to the cool, unyielding surface. But all the same, the closer she got to the moonlight, the more she felt that warm arms were holding onto her, humming lullabies and coaxing her on. Every night, Kivali the Calamity drifted to sleep before she ever reached the cave mouth. Dark-mother only let her get the briefest glimpse of the new tower that had wrecked her home and plowed stone-mother into the ground. It should have made Kivali sad. She should have been angry. But for some reason, the sight of it just sent her sliding into a restful oblivion. She would wake up surrounded by all-dark again, and dark-mother would be gone for another day.
Step, step... closer now. She could see the stars beginning to show. Step, step... sleepy, dark-mother, sleepy. Step, step... for just a moment, she saw metal. Then Kivali the Calamity drifted away, and something else sank in to take her place.
