"Is that so?" A gruff voice uttered, a hint of concern hidden within. The Bouffalant glimpsed then at the ‘mon sitting across from him. The Blaziken took a small sip from a streaming cup, not at all bothered by the hot contents. His amber eyes focused intensely on the Bouffalant. "And you think she will be able to snap him out of his…depression?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Brutus could clearly hear the skepticism in the Blaziken’s voice. “If you were there, you would have been able to see the bonds growing there.”
The Blaziken scoffed. “That may have been then but now he effectively smashed whatever was building.” His eyes soon turned cold, his voice becoming frigid, “She came to me with tears that day. She hardly wanted to tell me what was the problem but when she told me…” His grip tightened over the small cup, threatening to shatter it in pieces. “Did you know what I wanted to do that day?” His voice going quiet.
Brutus inclined his head. “Rainier…,” He earned the Blaziken’s sharp eyes. “I am only giving you the courtesy of this knowledge because you are her father but I know very well she is old enough to know what she wants to do without your consent.”
Rainier was shocked by this Bouffalant’s boldness, by his intelligence. He remember distinctly that he never uttered his name around the Normal type. Where the buffalo had discovered it baffled him. He doubted she would tell him so when.. He gritted his teeth, small embers seeping out of his claws. “She should not be involved with him anymore. She’ll just keep getting hurt around him. He’s a danger magnet and you know it,” he said through his teeth.
"You can not keep shielding her from the outside world. She even expressed joining a guild soon," he could see the Blaziken flinch at his words, eyes wide with shocked but he continued, "She is curious about the things around her. Let her explore and join things as she should Journies are not without trials. You should know," Brutus said sharply.
Rainier questioned the Bouffalant’s age. His words sounded ancient on his ears, his eyes held some knowledge. Definitely not possible of the 28 years the Normal Type had told him. He looked down then, focusing on the small ripples in his tea. “It seems I need to have a small chat with her later…,” he said reluctantly, giving a stern look to the buffalo. “Make sure it goes well.”
Brutus gave a small nod. “I will do what I can.”
Cherie hovered in front of the door, hesitant. Looped around her arm was a small tan bag. She risked a glance at Brutus who gave a small nod of encouragement back. She took a deep breath, gathering the courage inside. I can do this… I can do this… She knocked on the door quietly, anticipation building. She couldn’t quite stop her legs from trembling.
"Go away," a voice croaked behind the door.
She silently shook her head. You don’t get stay away this time. She knocked on the door again, harsher than before. Suddenly the door flew open mid knock, her arm faltering. Ven loomed over her, eyes blood-shot, his ears drooping. His breathing was labored, his chest barely rising. He seemed barely able to remain on his feet, leaning against the door for support. She nearly bit out a curse as he began to fall. Her arms flashed out to stop him from falling on top of her. She struggled under his weight but she managed to place his arm around her shoulders to better handle it.
"Is there a problem?" Brutus called from the other room.
"No no!" She said quickly."I got everything under control!" She put on a face of determination as she dragged the Weavile back inside, quietly kicking the door shut behind them. "Man you’re heavy…," she grunted out, legs wanting to go out from the pressure. She managed to get him on the bed without further preamble with a sigh of relief.
He was unusually hot for her liking. A fever? She placed a gently paw on his forehead, her expression worried. He was burning under her touch. “You got yourself sick too…” She sighed, rummaging through her bag. She carefully pulled out white bandages, eyeing the scars on his arms. Silently, she began to wound a bandage on his left arm. Happy with the left one, she moved on to the right.
A flash of movement and his right claw clamped down on her arm. She nearly shrieked but she kept her emotions under control, staring evenly at Ven’s wild eyes. He appeared confused, eyes moving around wildly.
"Ven…," she started, in a calm soothing voice. His eyes focused on her fleetly, unfocused. "Ven. I’m not here to hurt you," she continued in a gentle voice.
His brows furrowed, his eyes gaining clarity. “Cherie…?” He blinked, realizing what he had done He quickly let go of her arm as if she burned, muttering cursing under his breath. “What the hell are you doing in here?” He focused intently, frost coating his claw. He placed it on his forehead, relief flooding him instantly from the rising heat.
"You let me in here. Remember?" His brows knitted together in confusion, his memories fuzzy. But he doubted she would lie about something so simple. "Whatever. Get out of here." It felt humilating to have her baby him for being sick. He glimpsed the bandage wounded tightly on his arm. He lifted it up to examine.
"I’m not leaving," she huffed, paws on her hips. "You just fainted on me 20 seconds ago!" A light flush flooded his features as he averted his gaze. It was just getting worse- He froze when she leaned in to finish the bandage. He pushed her away with a growl. "I got this!"
Her feathers puffed at his reaction. ”Okay then! Do it!”
He muttered to himself, fiddling with the bandage. However within seconds he somehow managed to unravel it. “Dammit.”
Cherie merely sighed, grabbing another bandage from her bag. “You are so helpless…” Quietly she wrapped it around right arm with a swift delicate touch. “There…”
He quickly snatched his arm away, rubbing the bandage. It felt foreign on him, chafing his fur the wrong way.
She slapped away his probing paw. “Stop touching it. You’ll only mess them up!”
He rolled his eyes before his arms to prevent himself scratching at them. He didn’t really have the energy to be mad though he knew her intentions were in the right place. “Thanks…,” he muttered.
"What was that?" she asked mockingly, leaning close.
"I’m not repeating myself!" he growled, drumming a claw impatiently against his arm. "Are you done here? I want to go to sleep." Though the thought of sleep was something he dread.
"I can see you haven’t been sleeping…" she murmured, cocking her head to the side. "You can tell me what’s up…"
"If our last conversation wasn’t clear enough, I can make it clear now. Go away," he said in a frigid tone.
She threw her arms in the air suddenly, annoyed. “Argh! Why are you being so difficult!? Do you think that person you can yelling about will want you being all depressed?” She caught the merest flicker of his ears. “Everyone is worried about you…” He didn’t response, keeping his attention focused elsewhere. She sighed, disappointed her efforts went nowhere.
She dug through her bag again, pulling out a silver harmonica. She held out the small instrument in front of him, looking away. “Here. I got you something.”
Ven glanced sideways to see the strange object in her grasp. Interest piqued, he took the object carefully, turning it over.
"It’s a Harmonica. I know err you been out of it but I know we give these out to patients to calm their nerves or improve breathing," she said nervously. She reached around to gesture at the small holes. "See, you blow hard here and make a sound."
He frowned at her closeness but his eyes were keenly on the instrument as he twirled it around. “Blow here…” He pressed it to his maw, enjoying the coolness of the metal for a brief moment. He blew into it harshly, producing a strange screeching sound. He flinched, ears folding back as he tossed the object on the bed, far away from him. “What the hell was that!?” His ears still rang from the horrible sound.
Cherie laughed at his displeasure, picking up the small instrument. “It’s not so bad really. Just keep trying at it okay. Remember… There are others who are worried about you. Think about that okay?” She set the object next to him before striding towards the door. She paused, paw on the doorknob. “Get better brother.” She quietly left, the door shutting silently behind her.
Ven moved his gaze to the Harmonica next to. He glared at it with contempt before picking it up in his grasp. He blew it in softer this time, amazed by the sound it produced. A small grin lit up his features as he played. This wasn’t a bad gift at all..