The day had barely made itself known, and already it was too long. For PK, anyway. She was tired of walking along the ranch, tuning out Malt’s endless talks about the land and the plants and who worked where and what their names were... she hardly cared. She already had a lot of merchants to manage, and really, she had forgotten most of their names. She didn’t want Malt to fill her head with more things she just didn’t care about. So, he was ignored as they trudged on through the fields.
Her mind wandered. Didn’t Malt have a sister? He mentioned something about that over breakfast. Were there more Miltank on the farm besides those two? She suspected no, but wouldn’t have been surprised to find out she was wrong. It seemed like an awful lot of milk for one Pokemon to produce. But nevermind that... What was her name, again? Clover had mentioned it. Some weird word, obviously a foreign name. Ova-something... Oveline? Olivine? Oval... it was Ovaltine! This rang a dull bell in the back of her mind, and she realized it was the correct name. Huh.
“And over here, it looks like this is where the rest of them go when it’s time to clean the--”
“Hey Malt, where’s your sister?”
“--stables and, what? Ovaltine? If I had to guess, she’d be near her place. Why?”
“We haven’t met her yet.”
“Er, yeah. I figured we’d make our rounds there at the end.”
“Why don’t we go there now?” PK’s curiosity was getting the best of her. “I don’t really care about this other crap, anyway.”
Malt stopped in his tracks, causing PK to nearly bump into his backside. She thought he was going to get annoyed, or perhaps even angry with her, but to her surprise he simply placed his hands at his hips and turned to smile down at her in good humor. He was so weird sometimes. “Well, sure then. Why not? It’s been a while since I’ve actually spoken to her.”
He started to walk again, but once more abruptly paused in his tracks. This time PK actually did smash her face right into his back, causing her to stumble backwards and land square on her bottom. This time she
wanted to get angry, but instead found herself laughing. “Dumbass! Watch where you’re going!”
Malt was relieved to hear her yelling in a good natured way. He thought perhaps she was getting over whatever her problem with the ranch had been, and that was good progress to him. “Sorry lady. I’ll try to be more careful with this thing,” he said, wriggling his rear. He reached down and helped her up. “I just wanna warn you right now, you probably won’t like my sister very much. She’s kind of a... well, she likes gossip and stuff.”
PK’s tail quivered a bit. “Eh, I don’t care. I know how to not talk,” she said, even as Malt’s face turned incredulous. “Believe it or not.”
“It shouldn’t really be a problem. Her place is just over yonder, I think. I haven’t seen her very much since the whole place was rebuilt, so I might be wrong. But, you know, I don’t think I am, unless there’s another Miltank-shaped house around here,” he said. PK laughed at that, and partially at how absurd the houses like that really were.
Part 6 of "The Question"