He didn’t seem to have heard them on the ice shelves, had barely reacted to anything save for the Gliscor that helped him down, but, somehow, Ingo was even less responsive as they ushered him through the Alabaster Icelands. It was like he’d shut down the instant Emmet had taken his hand, and Elesa wasn’t sure what to do.

Nothing either of them said registered, and the blankness behind his eyes suggested he wasn’t even watching where they were going, but he followed along without complaint, barely lagging even a forearm’s length as Emmet led the both of them through the snow.

Only his entourage voiced their concerns. The Gliscor hovering just a [idk]s breadth above their heads kept up a steady stream of worried clicks and chirps, occasionally swooping down ahead of them to assess the group, which was incredibly tame compared to the chaos wrought by the Sneasel. Mostly, they tried to cling to Ingo or got underfoot; at one point, a Sneasel managed to scale up to his shoulder– not eliciting so much as a blink in the process– to hiss at Emmet from close range, only to be plucked up by a pincer and deposited on the ground a moment later. A different time, one peeled off and deliberately picked a fight with a Piloswine in a clear attempt to waylay them.

The bunch wasn’t particularly well trained– and Ingo’s standards hadn’t loosened, based on what was so obviously his Gliscor– but neither were they wild Pokemon. Elesa would have asked what their deal was if she thought she’d get any kind of answer.

She told herself she’d get the chance, just not today.

An unexpected resistance cropped up as they set foot on the bridge to the Pearl Clan’s settlement. The Sneasel, save for the one draped over Ingo’s left shoulder, immediately scaled its handrails– so Elesa’s attention was on them when the twins came to an immediate halt.

Moreso that Ingo came to an immediate halt, dragging Emmet to a stop with him. Wordlessly, he tried to pull away, to start walking along the river instead, but the fact that he had yet to let go of Emmet nipped the attempt in the bud. There was a puzzled, pathetic little tug on their linked hands that might have been cute under different circumstances, but all pleas to explain what was wrong fell on deaf ears.

Eventually, the dazed look in his eyes returned and he allowed himself to be led across.

The Pearls reacted to the sight of them with a strange mixture of relief and apprehension, and one immediately ran of to alert Irida.

While they waited, Emmet wasted no time in flagging down a villager who hadn’t had the foresight to leave while they had the chance. “Where do we take him to rest?”

They ran a hand over the back of their neck, looking away awkwardly, “Probably where you stayed before, the travelers’ tent.” Holding the other hand up defensively in response to the look it earned them, they added, “He doesn’t stay here often– I’m pretty sure he lives in the Highlands?”

Emmet hummed something both indistinct and irritated, but offered a curt thanks, then steered them away.

Irida met them halfway to the tent, eyes lighting up as she caught sight of them, and ran the last few meters. “Oh, thank Palkia almighty, you’ve found him! Ingo, we were worried sick about…”

She trailed off at the lack of any recognition, smile fading into a [worried] frown. Sharing a brief look with Elesa, Emmet broke off and [ushered] his brother into the tent; the Sneasel immediately followed, unabashed.

“Gliscor,” Irida said, when the bat looked like it was about to follow, “You know the rules.”

Gliscor swished its tail and flattened its ears at the scolding, then let out a petulant hiss; using its stinger to catch the handle, it yanked the door open a crack and wriggled its way in. If anybody on the inside was surprised by its entrance, there was no audio cue.

“Did– something happen?” The Pearl Leader asked, voice lower than before. Judging by the look on her face, she already had a solid guess.

“Beyond [x] months of isolation?” Elesa asked, and she could only hope the sardonic edge to it didn’t find a mark with the younger woman. She sighed, “Not that we saw. It kind of seemed like he was just taking a walk with his Pokemon.”

Irida nodded along solemnly, one hand raised to bite at a thumbnail in thought, “I can only imagine what it’s been like from his perspective; I’d always thought it odd, how close he was to his Pokemon, but… at least he’s had them with him.”

They fell into an uncomfortable lull, and Elesa decided this was as good an opportunity as any other, “Gliscor’s a no-brainer, and we saw a Tangrowth and Alakazam, but what’s with the Sneasel?”

“They’re the right age to be Lady Sneasler’s last clutch,” Irida said, just as relieved to have a different matter to address, “Part of a Warden’s duty is ensuring the well being of their Noble’s line, so it’s quite common for the younger ones to get attached. Lady Sneasler in particular is…” She hesitated, but was saved from concluding that thought by a sudden, “Oh! Be mindful of their claws. It seems likely these ones are old enough to regulate their poison, but I’d like to spare you a truly awful experience.”

“Shii-noted.” Elesa said flatly.

The silence returned, and she was about to follow the procession into what must be a truly packed tent when Irida spoke up again. “If I might, I don’t believe it’s a good idea to tell him what happened in that state.”

Elesa pushed her bangs up and heaved a sigh, “I’m right there with you, but you could say anything to his face right now and you’d get the same response.”

“I’ll speak to Warden Calaba.” Irida promised, “And, if need be, send word to the head of the Medical Corps.”

Unless Sinnoh had a truly storied history in the field of mental health, Elesa had her doubts how far that would take them, but she wasn’t about to say no. Instead, she nodded in thanks and followed her friends.

She was completely and utterly unsurprised to find them pressed together on the bottom cot, being hounded by poisonous Sneasel. Gliscor watched as she stepped in, technically from the top bed as it hung upside-down by its tail.

“How’s everyone Gol-do-een in here?” She asked, making an effort to keep her voice from pitching into overly-sympathetic.

The response she got was immediate.

“Worse for that.”

Elesa shrugged, “Can’t please ‘em all.”

“I would start with one.”

“Ouch.” Though it was harsh, she understood that the frustration wasn’t really aimed at her, “Irida’s going to get in contact with a couple of people who could help, but one of them’s Calaba, so…” She waggled one hand to signify her feelings on the matter.

Tempting as it was to pick the opposite side of the bed, Elesa wasn’t confident in her ability to dodge four Sneasel’s worth of venomous claws, and so she plopped down next to Emmet.

What neither of them expected was for that to the cue that snapped Ingo back to reality. Startled, he scrambled to his feet past the Sneasel on his lap and blinked at the quartet; though his eyes still passed directly over the humans in the room, it was something, at least.

“Ah,” He breathed, voice rough from disuse, and pivoted to reach into a satchel hidden beneath his coat. Frowning at its contents, he extracted several mismatched berries and [deliberately] distributed them; once that had been settled, he reached for something wrapped in a leaf, which was summarily handed off to Gliscor. “Apologies, it seems I’ve severely mismanaged my time today. If you would?”

Gliscor’s eyes turned to him, pausing its upside-down munching long enough to trill a response. Its attention flickered minutely to his belt– the side opposite the satchel, where a full six pokeballs were mounted– and he nodded. Content with whatever had passed between them, Gliscor went back to consuming its treat, wrapper and all; Ingo, meanwhile selected the second pokeball back and turned sharply on his heel.

He’d wrenched the door open before either Emmet or Elesa could react, and they both shot up after him.

“Is this better or worse?” Elesa hissed, hands poised to grab, but unsure whether she should. Fortunately, Ingo didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though he was very clearly making a path to the settlement’s entryway. It seemed unlikely he’d leave with the Pokemon still in the tent, but if Gliscor could fly whilst supporting the weight of a grown human, it could definitely make up distance while carrying some Sneasel.

“I’m… uncertain.” With the release of first Tangrowth, then Alakazam, Emmet relaxed fractionally. They weren’t going any further; it seemed that it was just dinnertime. “But I believe it’s safe to let him continue.”

Tangrowth’s vines immediately migrated into the branches of a frosted tree, where it began to pluck berries and drop them into Alakazam’s lap. They were quickly joined by the last three Pokemon, a Machamp, Magnezone and Probopass– the former of which began to stretch its arms, and the other two buzzed an incomprehensible conversation. There were no orders forthcoming; they all seemed to know what was going on without being told, and wandered off within a reasonable distance to do as they saw fit. In time, each approached Ingo– either seeking attention or a snack, in spite of the fact that they seemed perfectly happy to fend for themselves in the latter regard.

Magnezone hovered particularly close, its three eyes tracking Alakazam, Machamp and Probopass; Tangrowth, intent on shaking the tree’s upper branches, didn’t even seem to register as a concern. From where he’d settled against the waist-high ledge that defined the path, Ingo absently stroked Magnezone’s chassis.

“I don’t recall rerouting here,” He told it, staring blankly up into the village, “That worries me, but the scheduling certainly works out.”

Magnezone [cry description], its furthest eye shifting away from Alakazam to settle, again, on Elesa and Emmet some [idk] meters away, idling at the edge of the village proper; it didn’t seem to understand what was going on, but that was fine. Nobody could really be sure right now.

Footsteps crunched in the snow behind them as Irida and Calaba joined. Elesa raised a hand in greeting, and, while Irida returned it, Calaba wasn’t interested; instead, the old Warden focused in on the interaction before her.

It really wasn’t anything special. Tangrowth, vines full of fallen leaves, gleefully trundled across the space to decorate its teammates in bits of plant life; it only saw success with Probopass, artfully sticking twigs into the magnetic sand of its mustache.

[…]

There was a long, slow silence as, one by one, the meandering Pokemon decided they were done and sidled up to be returned to their pokeballs. Finally, Machamp was the only one left, and he moved to meet it, instead.

“We must not have challenged the Alpha Lucario,” He said in quiet realization, “Why would I– what possessed me to reverse course before reaching our terminal?”

While the Pokemon had seemed content to ignore their spectators as a group, Machamp’s stance changed now that it was on its own. It straightened to its full height and took a deep breath to bark in their direction; it didn’t seem to be an act of hostility, just… warning.

Ingo followed its line of sight, but still didn’t see them, attention straying up to the settlement at the sound of an answering shriek. He took a deep, measured breath, and visibly metered it out on the exhale. One of Machamp’s hands curled around his shoulder, and he offered it a grateful nod. “Please permit just another moment’s delay.”