It was clear enough by his first week amongst the Pearl Clan that he must have worked with Pokemon in his otherwise empty past; he could handle tame Pokemon he’d never met before and cooperate with the more agreeable wild ones with only a little effort. He’d even-- rather unwittingly-- charmed the wildest of the wild, a fact he hadn’t even realized until Calaba’s flat, disbelieving, “What, in all of Sinnoh’s vast space, am I looking at?”

In his defense, he’d thought it was another one of the settlement’s Pokemon who’d walked up and plonked her head in his lap, seeking attention. He hadn’t been entirely incorrect, either; Sneasler was a Pearl Clan Pokemon, just one of more significance than he’d first known.

Wardens, at least, seemed to have more of a grasp on how Pokemon worked-- albeit with regards to their Nobles, and few species beyond. Palina had been a great source of insight, her own Noble’s child newer to the clan than Ingo himself, and Calaba’s years of experience had helped fill in the picture.

It still felt… lacking. Ingo was relatively certain that a good caretaker vetted a potential mate, checked for a number of qualities from demeanor to fighting capabilities, but the other Wardens seemed content to let their Nobles do as they would, and he didn’t want to step on any toes.

So when Sneasler had an empty nest one day and a clutch of solid-shelled eggs the next, something pinged as fundamentally incorrect, but he went with it. The Sneasel that hatched were as wily and energetic as their mother, so there was no arguing with results.

They went through two seasons of this before the ruse broke.

The running of paws across the Highlands-- be it by twos or fours-- wasn’t an uncommon sound, and the call from above, where Gliscor lazily circled, stated that Sneasler was inbound. There was a follow up, screech, however, sighting another-- one of the invasive Weavile. Ingo had to assume it was trying to move in on Sneasler’s territory, and moved to assist in driving it off. Just as one hand dropped to Machamp’s pokeball, however, he found his arms full of something else.

Without a chirp of explanation, Sneasler spun him around and shoved, chittering for him to leave right now. The more battle-hungry side of him argued against it, but the one cultivated by Hisui’s wilderness and Sneasler herself listened; nodding sharply, he darted off to find a haven in the mountain’s crags.

Only once he was hidden away in the shadow of a jagged cliff did he stop to consider that the object thrust into his hands was an egg. What… did that imply? Sneasler’s nest was currently vacant. Sneasel-- Hisuian and foreign alike-- were nest predators, so it seemed likely that the strange evolution would share that in common, but if they weren’t her eggs, why would Sneasler care? He could see the Noble getting jealous and stealing a snack from a rival, but not whatever production had just been acted out.

Was it hers? Had she been attacked in the midst of having a clutch? Well, no. That wasn’t possible-- not the way she’d torn down the mountain. They weren’t even on the right side of the cliffs to be near her den.

What in the world was going on?

The stone above his hiding spot cracked and tiny bits of rock rained down. Instinctively, Ingo flinched, and an upward glance gave him about half a second to prepare for Gliscor swooping into his face, tail hooked into the bluff so it could stare upside-down.

It clicked at him, and he raised a hand to cup the top of its head, absently moving to scratch behind one ear.

Several minutes passed and, eventually, Sneasler made her appearance, nudging Gliscor aside like a particularly enterprising curtain. She made a point of looking over him, ensuring both her Warden’s safety and that of the egg she’d entrusted to him, before reluctantly peeking up to meet him eye to eye.

Ingo said nothing; he tilted his head and turned a wrist in question. She wilted, if only just.

Somehow, in spite of her imposing claws, Sneasler made grabby paws at the egg. He sighed and turned it over for her to inspect more thoroughly, but she just wrapped her arms around it and sprinted off-- albeit at a pace he was clearly meant to follow. It was immediately obvious that she was headed toward her den, and so he opted for the more human-friendly cliff faces rather than the ones she saw fit to traverse, even with fragile cargo cradled in one arm.

To his bafflement, there were Pokemon eggs settled in her nest when they stepped in. There hadn’t been any there that morning, and, to the best of Ingo’s knowledge, Sneasler had been on the opposite side of the mountain all day. She set the egg down with the other three and clambered in, too, looking up.

“That’s not yours.” Ingo said plainly but, after another few seconds of being stared at, sighed and knelt down opposite her. “You rerouted all of these eggs from their proper stations, didn’t you?”

While mildly chiding, his tone was still gentle. Mostly, he just wanted to understand.

She tapped her chest with one paw and then to the nearest egg, shaking her head vigorously.

“You’re unable to have your own?”

There was another, more decisive shake of the head.

“You don’t… want your own?” Given the circumstance, it sounded ridiculous as soon as it left his mouth, but Sneasler’s eyes lit up and she nodded. A little helplessly, Ingo gestured to the bounty of stolen Sneasel-to-be that surrounded her, “Sneasler, that’s-- if you have no desire for your own Sneasel, why have you stolen them away?”

She glanced off to the side. At first, Ingo took it for something approaching shame, but her expression was all wrong. In was a pointed look, through the rock toward the center of the territory. When it failed to click, she looked back to him, and added the chirp that meant ‘Pearl Clan’.

Oh. Well… yes, that would make sense. One of a Warden’s duties was to help raise a Noble’s successor; that necessitated a number of sub-tasks like keeping track of the young, gauging their temperament and working with the Noble to ensure that the Lord-or-Lady-to-be understood what was needed from them. From step one, it presumed the Nobles would have-- would want-- heirs. That assumption had already led to near disaster in the case of Lord Arcanine.

Without quite meaning to, Ingo buried his face in his hands, but it was barely muffled as he said, “So you have been reallocating eggs that do not belong to you in order to appease the Pearl Clan.”

He didn’t see, but could hear the smug ‘aren’t-I-a-clever-one’ in the answering trill.

Ingo looked up by a matter of degrees, hands still steepled to cover his lower face, and fixed her with a stern look. “Is it too late to return these passengers to their rightful homes?”

The sheepish inclination of the head came as little surprise; anything that spent even a moment in Sneasler’s den came away with her scent clinging to it. Even if the eggs’ parents could tell it belonged to them, Sneasler’s lingering presence would likely keep them from accepting it again.

“Then we will care for them as usual, but I will not permit this to happen again.” It was silly to feel kinship with an egg of all things, but Ingo couldn’t help but sympathize with it; they’d been helpless to do anything as they were spirited away from a home they’d never remember, stolen from their parents and nestma--

He blinked, startled to awareness, as his the brim of his hat obscured his vision.

There was a fond whuffing noise from somewhere on its other side, and he had a sneaking suspicion as to who was responsible for both.

“Thank you,” He sighed, and reached to straighten his cap. How ridiculous, to find himself derailing over a few… forcefully adopted eggs. He still didn’t approve by any means, but the damage had been done, and now that he knew, he would see to its end the following year.

The question of how to put this right with regards to the Pearl Clan’s tradition remained. While he could uphold his ward’s ruse and act as though the Sneasel she’d raised were from the line that Sinnoh had blessed, he wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do. Under no circumstances would he encourage Sneasler to act in a way contrary to her desires, so there had to be another way...

Ruefully, he spared a thought for the state of Hisui’s Pokemon education. This was just a step removed from claiming that an egg ‘just appeared!’ to avoid having to explain where it came from.

...he hadn’t questioned it, had he? Sneasler’s previous clutches had ‘just appeared’, and he’d gone right along with it. Sinnoh above, he was a fool.

“I don’t understand, Sneasler.” Ingo said, and he could admit that he was trying to distract himself from the embarrassment of falling for something most 10 year olds questioned, “You’ve maintained this cover for years, and clearly you were able to fend off the Weavile on your own. My involvement seems unnecessary-- and forgive me for saying so, but I would even call it unwise.”

Sneasler huffed and grabbed him by either side of the collar. Something about that act seemed slightly to the left of what should have been, but he was more distracted by the fact that it sent him tumbling against the Noble. Through the worn padding of his hat, he felt her rest her head on his.

Two chirps sounded, rumbling through her chest.

Kit, was the first.

Mine said the second.