Reports of Sneasler sightings cropped up on a weekly basis. They hadn’t started with Emmet’s encounter, it was just that he hadn’t been terribly aware of the exact timing prior. Nobody claimed that she’d led them to Lostlorn-- if anything, the frustration seemed to be that she made herself untraceable.

Doubt nagged at Emmet, and had ever since he’d realized his mistake. What was he supposed to have done, though? Being led to the bridge between the human realm and Entralink and then confronted with a smaller version of himself, how was he supposed to assume it wasn’t a trick? Maybe it was, and it was just at a level he couldn’t comprehend-- but he couldn’t leave it at that. He had to do something to get that kid back to civilization.

It was preemptive, but he’d reached out to his parents after the fact, had asked if they had any distant family members who might have wandered off in the woods. The line of question had been promptly-- harshly-- shut down. He’d known they didn’t approve of him living in such close proximity to the forest, but that seemed… disproportionate. He didn’t breathe a word of the fact that he’d ventured inside.

Emmet’s second-second opinion had been Drayden, a friend since childhood and the person he’d been trusted to venture Unova alongside. Unfortunately, he was of the opinion that Emmet had been entirely in the right, and that any further involvement was a surefire way to draw a fairy’s ire-- or worse, its undivided attention. When Emmet had pointed out that fae didn’t bleed red, it hadn’t mattered. Drayden was adamant that he’d handled the situation as best he could-- short of knowing better than to follow Sneasler in the first place.

It wasn’t that Emmet hadn’t known better. It was just that he hadn’t acted on that knowledge. There was a difference.

So it was in direct opposition to his loved ones’ wishes that he began keeping tabs on Sneasler’s movements, and when he worked out a pattern, he did something foolish: he waited until she’d been seen in the city and then headed out to Lostlorn, lurking in the shadows of the trees she’d marked for him.

His intention had been to wait for her, to confront her and make amends for how they’d parted before. In actuality, he was drawn in deeper by the distinct clicking of a Gligar. Another sound answered it: the child’s voice from before, but when he spoke this time, it was completely indistinct, a whine more than anything resembling speech.

He crept nearer, mindful of his tread; it wouldn’t do to alert a protective bat ahead of time, and the very last thing he wanted was to get himself stuck in the Entralink. There reached a point where he could make out pink between the trees, but, as before, the details were dampened by the lack of sunlight. The Gligar was grounded, that much was for certain, and he thought it may have been mantling over the child. Was he hurt?

Unable to get a better look and not wanting to be attacked for stepping nearer, Emmet backed off by several paces, back on the ‘main path’ Sneasler had created. There was every chance the Gligar would avoid him the way Sneasler had, but it wouldn’t be able to flee without either leaving the boy or taking the time to bundle him up. If it came down to it, Emmet could try battling, but didn’t have much hope for that; only Eelektrik’s Crunch and Headbutt would faze the bat, and Durant and Galvantula would be at steep type disadvantages.

For now, he tried something simpler, and deliberately allowed the dry underbrush to crunch underfoot. Gligar’s already muted noise dampened further, but that was no matter; Emmet already knew where it was. He was here trying to broker a compromise, not to enact an ambush.

“Hello?” He called, louder than his instincts told him was wise, “I am sorry for what I said. I misunderstood your intentions. I want to help.”

There was a shuffling sound ahead, and absent visual cues, Emmet had to assume it was the sound of a bat trying to pick up a human kid. He stepped towards it, using the noise as an excuse to start closing in.

When the pink carapace became visible again, he paused long enough to scope out what it was doing. Unlike before, it was sitting upright, ears perked and eyes searching. The rounded form of one closed pincer hovered awkwardly over the boy’s chest, the other arm tucked beneath him, hooking along his side.

Angled to suggest he’d come from their previous meeting point, Emmet said again, “Hello?” and tried to feign surprise as he became visible through the trees.

Gligar hissed at him, ears pinned and fangs bared, but the child didn’t respond.

Much as he would have liked to get a better look, Emmet had to make do with what he’d been given: the deep shade between trees and what could charitably be called a profile view of the child’s face and torso. He was unable to glean much more than he had been the first time, save for the fact that, when he wasn’t being cloaked in bat wings, the boy wore dark, old fashioned clothing.

He didn’t move for several seconds, gauging Gligar’s behavior and trying to work out how best to proceed. The hiss turned into a growl low in its throat, and then, oddly, one ear rose from where it had flattened to its skull.

Emmet didn’t have the chance to puzzle out what that might mean-- he was promptly bowled over from behind.

From his position flat on the ground looking up, it wasn’t difficult to recognize Sneasler, who gathered the child up much the same way she had prior. Unlike before, her claws failed to draw blood, and the child didn’t stir as she seated him into the crook of one arm with an impressive strength. Not for the first time, Emmet wondered what her typing might be-- fairy seemed a forgone conclusion, given her origin point and coloration, but the secondary was up in the air. Knowing precisely what would make all the difference if he had to defend himself against her.

She spent the seconds he took to right himself staring down at him, eyes wary, nose scrunched in distaste.

He raised his hands in something between apology and surrender.

“I am sorry. That is what I came here to say. I misunderstood what you wanted. Your… friend? He’s hurt? Sick?”

The feather plume of Sneasler’s ear swiveled at the last set of questions and her gaze turned calculating. Gligar clicked behind her, up on its own feet now, looking between Sneasler and the deep woods. If it wanted to flee, it could. That would certainly make it easier for Emmet to negotiate.

And, as a matter of fact, Gligar did turn to leave, wings catching on a breeze only it could pinpoint and disappearing into the dark. The only problem was that the movement distracted Emmet from Sneasler, who boldly approached and caught him around the waist, scooping him up off of his feet and hoisting him over a shoulder.

His last view before the realms changed around them was the sun filtering in, weakly, through the Lostlorn’s canopy.

Any attempt at identifying what, precisely, was different in the air of the Entralink was stymied by the fact that he was deposited roughly on his ass, into a forest that looked largely identical to the one they’d come from. There was a short, murmured conversation above. Emmet caught the word ‘home’, but couldn’t tell who was speaking-- certainly not the child-- before a flurry of motion sent both Gligar and the boy that had been deposited on its back away.

Sneasler looked down at him, paws on her hips and claws jutting out like deadly ruffles.

“Rules one and two: don’t eat anything, don’t drink anything. It’ll feel awful, but you won’t die. Rule three: don’t tell anyone your Arceus forsaken name.” Said a rough, feminine voice. The follow up was quieter, like it wasn’t meant for his ears, “Dunno how you’d manage to break those in five minutes, but humans are stupid enough to try.”

‘Humans’? Did that then imply the speaker wasn’t a human? But the only individual around was--

Sneasler hoisted him up by a shoulder, making direct eye contact, and was very clearly the source of it when the voice asked, “What’s your deal?”

He opened, and then shut his mouth.

Sure. This might as well happen. Who was he to say what was or wasn’t possible in the Entralink?

The Pokemon made a throaty, exasperated noise and let go to fold her arms over her chest. “Yeah, you know what? Changed my mind. Why don’t you see yourself out? Five steps to to left, follow the marks. There’s gotta be someone around who’s actually useful...”

Emmet bristled at the dig, but it was also what snapped him back to… reality…?

“I regret how I acted before. I was trying to find you and make up for it.” He made an active effort not to let his tone dip into the brisk irritation he felt. As he brushed the dirt from his sleeve, he glanced the direction the Gligar had left. “The little boy. Is he sick?”

“Don’t know.” Sneasler said, following his lead; her feather fluttered as she turned, “He gets like that every time we stay in the human world too long. He should be free to go. I don’t get it.”

“You’re trying to stay in the human world?” Emmet asked, glancing back at her.

“None of your business.” She said immediately, and then softened a touch, “But yeah, it’d be better for him. I was tryin’ to find someone who’d know what’s wrong, and you’re the same kind of human, so I figured...”

The same kind of…? Oh. She must have meant their physical resemblance. From a Pokemon’s perspective, he supposed that line of thought would make sense.

“I am not an expert. And I did not get a good look before. If you permit, I could check now?”

She shook her head. “Wouldn’t matter. He perks up once we get back here.”

Which implied that the boy had accompanied Sneasler at least as far as the forest more than once-- enough times to establish a pattern. If she was looking to get him help, then it stood to reason that he’d been in the human realm each time she’d been spotted. It also meant that she wasn’t opposed to bringing him with her again.

“He was fine the first time, though?” Emmet said, mind churning.

“I saw you right away.” Sneasler said, eyes flickering deeper into the forest before returning to him in the foreground, “The kid didn’t have time to get sick. He was only woozy when we got home.”

Emmet had no idea what to make of that. Truth be told, he didn’t know what any symptoms might indicate, and had no medical training save for standard first aid. This entire request was well beyond what he might be able to shed light on.

However, it did give him an opportunity. If Sneasler was serious about this-- if her priority was ensuring the boy’s health-- she might permit him to take the child to human civilization, specifically to a doctor. As things stood right now, he didn’t think he could sway her, but if they were already in the human world and he’d proved himself safe, then maybe.

“If you give me one more chance, I will try to help you.” He said, trying to ignore the twist of guilt inside of him.

“Why should I?” She asked bluntly. “He was scared to begin with, and you were an ass to him. Why do you think you get to look at my kit again?”

“You brought me with you.” Emmet countered, indignance creeping into his tone, “You have been to the city multiple times since. Have you asked anyone else for help?”

Sneasler stared daggers at him and grumbled something that sounded vaguely like, “Trying to find another one.”

“Humans do not work like that. I admit I am… curious why your friend looks like me. It was why I reacted so harshly. I had to assume it was a trick.”

She made a noise like a sneeze and, only slightly more intelligibly than before, uttered, “Damn fairies.”

He blinked at her. “But you live here? In the Entralink?”

“Yeah? And I’m trying to leave? The Entralink?” Sneasler sneered, rolling her eyes. “For someone so paranoid about the fae, you sure don’t seem to understand that people generally don’t choose to come here.”

“So you can leave.” He said, less as a statement of fact and more to ensure he understood properly. “Why don’t more?”

“’Cause I’m special.” She scoffed, “And ‘cause they get themselves trapped. Look, as much fun as I’m having here, I have a kid to take care of and you’re losing time in the human world. You leaving, or am I throwing you back?”

Emmet held his hands up again, warding her off. “I will go under my own power. I will not seek your friend out again. In return, will you approach me for help?”

Though Sneasler wrinkled her nose at the idea, she seemed to give it due consideration.

“I dunno. No promises.” She eventually said, but there was a reluctance to denounce his offer entirely. That was probably the best he was going to get for today.

Emmet nodded, offered a short, “I hope your friend recovers quickly.” and stepped back the way he’d been carried in.

It was difficult to qualify what he felt as he stepped out into the rays of evening light. There was a degree of bafflement, of course, from the fact that he’d held a full conversation with a Pokemon, and ongoing concern for the child he’d come this way seeking.

But mostly, it was an air of anticipation that hung overhead. He’d gotten himself involved, now, and something was waiting on the horizon line between worlds.