Set 4 of 17 of the 807 mini drabble collection. I'll update the page as I finish more pokémon that fall into this number range. In general these drabbles will cover a wide range of genres/subjects/etc., hence the vague summary below; if anything warrants a special note, however, it will be mentioned here.
Genre: Varies, usually General
Rating: Varies, usually K
Approx. Wordcount: 100 words each (600 total)
Newest Additions: 185 Sudowoodo on 01/29/2017
"I'm still not following how this happened." The sentret scratched his head as he leaned over to take a closer look.
"It's... it's not important!" his brother said hastily. "I was chasing these rattata, and I almost had them but then they ran in different directions and I got—it's not important!"
"Can your spine even bend that—" The sentret stopped himself and snorted. "Well, I guess it can, seeing as it has..."
"Stop being smart and help me!" snarled the furret.
The sentret laughed, shook his head and set about trying to untie the knot in his brother's midsection.
It happened every spring, without fail: Hoothoot would give his 7AM alarm, just as he did every day, and his trainer would reward him not with a cheerful "Good morning!" but an angry "Dammit, it's eight, we're late!" and a thump on the head.
Hoothoot would scowl and insist that no, it was seven, it would never stop being seven at this time of day, he knew. She never listened. And so it would continue for a solid half a year.
All he could do was hope that one of these days the humans would stop changing the time around.
Noctowl panicked as he flew low through the forest. What time was it? Why was it so dark? How long had he been fleeing the hulking pangoro that was closing in at last?
"It's time to stop running, buddy," said Pangoro. "'Cause now I'm gonna clean your clock."
"No! Please, don't—"
Pangoro's fist slammed into his head.
There was pain. Something in his brain clicked. It was seven minutes, thirteen seconds after midnight, two days past summer solstice—
Noctowl blinked. "Hey, I know what time it is again! Thanks!"
"No problem, buddy! Lemme know if you're on the fritz again!"
He didn't know why he was supposed to avoid the ariados. All they did was watch shyly from the shadows of the trees. He visited them one day, asked if they'd please come out and say hello. "Come play with me and my friends," he said, smiling when one inched toward him. "I bet they'd like to meet you."
Another child called just as the ariados nudged his arm; he waved goodbye and left. They watched him go, silk now furling out behind him. They'd follow it later, more than happy to meet him again—and, of course, his friends.
Togetic yawned cavernously, fluttering lower as she did so the smeargle would see. Sure enough the painter pokémon's jaw went slack and a yawn slipped out, and moments later it was snoring in the grass.
"Yes!" Mike shouted. "We've almost got it! I finally found a smeargle... this is the luckiest day of my life!"
Togetic echoed her trainer's enthusiasm with a backflip over his head. So lucky! They'd never come this close before! She reared back, revved her wings, kicked up a gentle fairy wind... and blasted it straight into a tree, waking it up and sending it scurrying.
So far, the trevenant had no idea that their stand had been infiltrated. Sudowoodo's disguise was flawless! No one would ever be able to tell her that she wasn't as good as a "real tree" ever again!
She had their routine down pat, too. She followed them around, let some fletchling land on her, threatened a few loggers... easy.
Today they were heading somewhere different. The stand stopped by a cheerful poliwhirl, who waved and doused them all with a gentle spray of water.
The stand of trevenant turned, confused, as one of their number bolted in the opposite direction.