She awoke to the feeling of her tail being pulled.

"Hey, wake up."

She didn't want to wake up, the bed she was in was warm. She yawned and turned over, hoping whoever it was would leave her alone.

"Hey!" Another pull. "I need to leave soon, you should get up and have some of the leftover soup."

Soup? Right. She had that last night, and it was pretty good. That Ninetales gave her some.

The Ninetales?

She got up in a flash once she realized she was not in her house, and was, most importantly, alone with that creepy fox.

"I knew you could do it! That wasn't so hard, right?" He looked at her with a cheery expression as he said this, and she couldn't tell if he was making fun of her or just being sarcastic. Probably the latter. While certainly weird, he didn't appear to be malicious. Not as malicious as he was acting last night, at least. Besides, a bad heart couldn't cook good soup. Well, probably not. She just made that up, but it sounded correct, and that was all that mattered. Anyway, she-

thwump

A paw landing on the top of her head broke her from her daydream, which was also about the same time she realized she was daydreaming. Bad habit.

Shaking his paw off of her head, she intended to give him a piece of her mind for being so.. weird last night, but found she was unable to. It was those damned eyes of his. She couldn't seem to think of much when she looked at them. Or do much. They were the reason she was convinced into following him to his house last night. She would have never agreed to such a thing in a normal state of mind.

As he tapped her again, he realized why she was having such a hard time not acting like a scarecrow.

"I forgot about that. It's been quite some time since I've had a guest over!" He closed his eyes, and her head felt much clearer. That grin of his remained, though. "Is this better?" He began to hum to himself, slightly swaying back and forth. It was almost cute. Not cute enough to dissuade her from nearly shouting at him.

"Why did you have me come here? Furthermore, why in the world did you have to do.. whatever it is you did last night to get me to follow you?" She put on her best annoyed face, and, even though his eyes were closed, hoped he could feel the intensity of her stare. It's best that his eyes were closed, really. It's rather difficult for a Dratini to appear intimidating, they usually end up looking adorable. He stopped humming.

"Hm? I thought you knew. Didn't you stay up for the better part of the night to tell me your stories? Some of them were pretty good, and it would be a shame if they were never put into a book." He walked over to the fireplace at the far end of the room and extinguished it with his tails. The room immediately dimmed, but other than that remained perfectly visible. The sun had already begun to rise and was letting a small amount of light in through the curtained windows.

She looked around as he tended to the soup pot hanging above the remnants of the fire and realized he had a lot of books laying about.. could he have written all of them? Yes, he did. She remembered now, he told her he'd been a writer for.. quite some time? He didn't tell her a number. Come to think of it, he didn't tell her much of anything. His answer didn't make much sense, either. How could he have known she had stories? She felt that he was being a bit deceitful, and that annoyed her.

"That's ridiculous! You expect me to believe you just followed the trail of a story with your nose to my home? That you just.. magically knew I could entertain you all night?"

He kept his grin, breaking it only to make a face as he tasted the leftover soup. "I don't expect you to believe anything, but, yes! I knew you had stories I hadn't heard of yet, and I wanted to write them down. As for my methods, would you have come with me any other way? Be honest, now."

She shook her head, still angry. "Of course not! Who would want go with you? Do you have any idea how you came off? I thought you were going to eat me!" His eyebrows raised at that remark. "Why couldn't you have just left me alone!?"

With his eyebrows lowering and grin fading, he appeared to consider her questions for a bit. He didn't give her an answer she wanted to hear. "I can still eat you, you know. This soup isn't nearly as good as I'd like it to be." She backed up a bit, startled. "You're all alone in this room with me, and I don't believe you have any more stories to tell." He opened his eyes and started to move towards her, smiling, all teeth.

She couldn't move or struggle, it was those eyes again. As he drew closer, she figured at least her stories would live on. He didn't seem to be lying about writing them down into a book.. she just wished she could have read it. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Then she heard laughter, and opened her eyes. He was laying on the floor, laughing! Really? Was everything just a huge joke to him? Tears started to blur her vision.

"What is your PROBLEM!? Do you have any idea, just how, how-"

He stopped laughing and looked at her, but this time her thoughts remained clear. "Ah! I didn't mean to make you cry. That line about you being eaten was too ridiculous, I couldn't resist."

He seemed genuinely apologetic, or at least, she thought so. She couldn't quite tell what he was thinking; he kept that infuriating cheerful expression on at all times.

=====

Part 3 of narrator by
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