How long had it been? When Gunpowder had left the bay, it was night, and it was now midday, but he had seen such a sight at least once before. More than a day and a half of walking straight in the heat. He had no idea where he was going anymore, but he was too stubborn to admit to being lost. At first, he was following the coastline, but had since diverged from that path. He was now walking on what he figured was a road. The dirt was packed down, for whatever reason.

Roads made him think of how sore he was. His body was adapted to harsh conditions, being a land shark, but even he could take only so much. Thoughts of the bay had all been pushed out of his head and replaced with images of water alongside thoughts of dehydration and sore muscles. More vampirism, too, just briefly. All he wanted was something to drink.

Just when he thought luck was against him, out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something reflecting light in the distance. His excitement got the better of him, leading him to conclude it was a pool of water and head towards the source, which was slow and involved a lot of fumbling. He could almost taste it. He could certainly smell it.

It was then that Gunpowder realized luck knew no sides. Expecting to find a luxurious pool filled with ladies, he instead found a stinking cesspit of a swamp. It was not very big, so it was more likely just a standing pool of water. It was certainly not drinkable, not even to Gunpowder. He sighed, bowed his head, as was tradition for him when ashamed, and sat down on a nearby rock to pout.

“Hey! Hey you!”

At first, Gunpowder thought he was hearing things, but the voice shouted again. And again. He glanced around, trying to find it, and to his dismay, it sounded like it was coming from the swamp in front of him. He brought a claw up to his eyes to block out the light, and there, in the middle of all the muddy water, stood a rat-like creature. It looked like it was.. bathing. In that. Ugh. Gunpowder didn’t want to think about it. Gunpowder waved, lest the creature emerge to inspect him further.

“Well, howdy! Glad ya finally noticed, partner,” shouted the creature. He squinted to get a better look at Gunpowder. “Hoy, you’re lookin’ a bit scraggly, aintcha?”

Gunpowder nodded. He was trying not to draw too much attention to himself. All he could think was “please don’t come over here.” The rat hollered something unintelligible at Gunpowder, and then began to emerge from the swamp, and then.. walked straight up to Gunpowder. Great, he thought. This thing can read the opposite of my mind.

The rat put his damp paw on Gunpowder’s leg, which just sent shivers down his spine. Perhaps it was all a hallucination, Gunpowder thought to himself. Those happen to people after walking in the sun for too long, after all. There was no way Gunpowder’s mind could drum up such a creation. It was a dilapidated house in Pokemon form: scruffy and unkempt, walked with a bit of a limp, and was clearly missing its front teeth.

“So, what’s yer name, champ? Whatcha doin’ all the way ‘round these parts,” the creature inquired. It seemed like a curious beast.

“M-my name..?” Gunpowder couldn’t help but stutter. His mouth was too dry to speak without great effort. “... Gunpowder.”

“Gunpowder? That’s a scary untraditional name! Ain’t never heard anything like that before.” The creature wiped his ‘clean’ on his own fur, and held it out to Gunpowder. “Name’s Otis, by the way.”

Gunpowder reluctantly extended a claw to shake the creature’s paw, but before they could come into contact, the rat pulled away. Gunpowder realized his arm was still covered in blood, though by that point it had mostly dried and begun to peel off. Still, it was clear something bad had happened.

“Eh, you ain’t one’a them crazies, aintcha? I can’t afford to be gettin’ killed, y’hear.”

Gunpowder shook his head. He certainly couldn’t tell the truth, or he would be labeled insane. He awkwardly fumbled with his words until he came up with a reasonable alibi: he had finished cleaning meat for food the night before and forgot to wash up when finished. Having such sharp claws was rather handy, he explained with as few words as possible. The rat hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Oy, I hear that. Glad to know there are other meat eaters out there, y’know? None of that pure veggie crap,” Otis said in a rather resentful tone. He continued to rant, and Gunpowder thoroughly paid as little attention as possible. In reality, Gunpowder hadn’t sampled much meat before, his tolerance for garbage was just much lower than usual. Besides, his mouth had its goals set more on liquids than any kind of food.

“Aye, don’ mean t’ be rude, mate, but I’m really damn thirsty,” Gunpowder interrupted. “Got any fluids on ya?”

“Oh! Of course, yes! Got some in yonder carriage! Come with me!”

=====

Part 8 of "Well of Memories" by

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