hello i am taking 1 month for to write this, please do not mean at me. I have many help in order for to finding the correct speling of the words. I am very much hope to catch the pokemon :) thanking you and it will coming more than one parts.
"I have a present for you," Ferroseed purred, watching Wingia closely. Teeth bared, even as he grinned in what was meant to be a friendly fashion, he appeared almost predatory.
'Almost,' Wing thought with a snort, careful to keep his expression clearer than his mind. Most of his anger, however, was directed at himself. 'ALMOST,' he repeated more empathatically in his mind, having to put an effort into unclenching his stiff muscles as Ferroseed's eyes dragged down his body, lingering first on his face. The calculating, cold, grey gaze was enough to make him shudder. No matter how much emotion, positive or negative, was imbued in Ferroseed's voice, he never showed even an overtone of it on his face.
Unnatural looking locks, appearing to be the favored color of those of the gothic or emo persuasion, were tucked back, Wing realized. Ferroseed had something in mind, to swoop up the hairs that Wing had once thought of as dyed, as cliché. A closer look- A much closer look- had shown him that they were not dyed, nor indeed, raven-black, at all. Rather, a deep, dark purple, nearly indistinguishable from the darkest of greys, covered his head naturally.
Sweat drops rolled down his face, slowly evaporating now that he was in out of the hot sun. The rake had been left in the yard when Ferroseed had called, experience telling Wing that his punishment would be worse if he delayed answering the summons to put the rake away than if he simply let it lay where it fell. However, he forgot the hot, sticky mess of his torn shirt- thanks to an angry Weedle whom he had not seen while raking- when he was what Ferroseed was giving him.
This, he thought, was no toy present, no joke, and certainly not something that was more a present for Master than the slave. The usual drudgery he was forced to do was no longer of issue, even knowing he would still have to clean, cut wood, and sweep later, once he spotted the present in his owner's hand.
One pokéball, not brand new but free of the worst of damage-marks. The little circle was a light, faded, pastel red. It was occupied.
"Sir," Wing gasped, smiling in what appeared to be a shy fashion, even as his mind whirled. What was the point of this present? A Pokémon, even a weak one like Weedle (Though, his tortured torso shouted, Weedle weren't as weak as he had thought when he'd tossed one out of the way a bit roughly with the rake!), could be trained to help him escape. Ferroseed was as good as giving him his freedom. It was just too good to be real.
"Take it," Ferroseed said, raising his head. He was proud of the reaction he had derived from Wingia. His smug expression was only added to by the indulgence in his voice; he knew what a great favor he was doing Wingia.
"Why don't we make a little wager?" Ferroseed added, as Wingia took the Pokéball carefully, avoiding the touch of his Master's hand. His own, after all, were still filthy, covered in dirt and a few particles of dead leaves. It was then that Wing, hearing the slightly teasing tone that Ferroseed was using, realized that this meant trouble.
He did not, however, disagree.
"We'll have a battle," Ferroseed said, pressing the Pokéball into Wingia's hand before letting go. "Your Pokémon, against my favorite Golduck."
Golduck, like Ferroseed, was strong, yet also cunning. Agility, a sleek appearance, and subtle or long-term tactics were common among them, or at least the ones Ferroseed owned and trained (Or had had trained for himself). Along with, of course, the ability to talk someone into listening to them, but the mindset to bother doing so only to cause more confusion or damage. Though he knew Ferroseed kept them because he liked to feel that they represented him, privately Wing thought a Granbull might be a better fit for his master. The large dog might have some abilities, like tracking and scent-following, but it was, for all its attempts at cunning, a bully. Ferroseed had seemed like an enigma at first, but it hadn't taken Wing long to figure him out.
Then again, Ferroseed were an apt fit for Ferroseed as well, as least as far as appearance went. Between the hair and the crystal-like eyes, always gazing without betraying any but the most extreme of emotions, Wing felt Ferroseed was rather like the Ghost Pokémon. His figure, too, seemed to fit- Perhaps Ferroseed wasn't as scrawny as the Pokémon Wing thought of as his namesake (or perhaps vice versa), but he wasn't fat, either. He was surprisingly strong for one of such a lean musculature, however, doing the less powerful Wing no favors. He wasn't like his master, he was best described as scrawny. Even the hours of work, hard labor, and chores he was regularly subjected to had done nothing for his 'figure'.
Gripping the Pokéball, Wing prayed that whatever was inside would be useful, and wouldn't simply attack him instead of Ferroseed's Pokémon.
The first thing he heard, after the familiar 'Pop!' of the Pokéball's latch mechanism opening, was the jingle of bells. His heart sank at the sound, even before the little, frilly lace around the Pokémon's neck came into view. The FarFetch'd before him had probably been very expensive- It was a reddishbrown, rather than the usual, plain tree trunk brown- but it didn't look too useful. It seemed to be cared for- the lace was odd, but then, the Pokémon WAS female, so it wasn't just there to embarrass it. However, Wing doubted its usefulness in battle, especially against a Golduck. Ferroseed's favorite stood across from them already, eyes fixed to them, with a smirk on its face. The Pokémon looked streamlined, more lean than gaunt, and ready to fight. To win.