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Old 07-20-2006, 08:28 PM
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~lil leprechaun~
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Arrow Waiting in Stone

Genre: Romance
Type: Short Story
Author Notes: This is my first attempt at Romance. I think you need to read it a couple times to find any underlined meanings. Other than that, hope you like it.

Feedback: I enjoy any criticism, good or bad, and at any time of the year. Send me a PM or use the Fanfiction Feedback thread. Don't post here. Thanks.


Waiting in Stone

“And that’s why Tentacruel can’t sing.” Elder Paku smiles.

Trunk always loved that story, especially when the youngsters laughed at the end. It was one of his favorite comedies told by the elders.

The Pinsir camp itself was rather open and large, about the size of two battle arenas side by side. This was the playground during the day, when the Pinsir would go about their lives. The adult Pinsir gathered branches and dirt to reinforce there camp while the youngsters ran around playing games like Catch or Hide and Seek. Once a week the elders gathered under a shaded tree, marked with inscriptions indicating leadership. Then they would tell one of the many stories they know to the children, passed down by generations and known to most Pokemon in the region. Some of these stories were true while others were works of fiction, but it didn’t matter because they always held an important message at the end.

“Hey Trunk!” Sickle called out. He was one of Trunk’s favorite friends and a few years away from becoming an elder himself. He had the wisdom and the attitude to help lead the camp but he was not old enough to be considered an elder. And he only knew half the stories by memory.


“It’s your turn to scout. Better hurry before Elder Paku sees you slacking off again.”

Scouting was the most important aspect at the Pinsir camp. Everyday, scouts would leave the camp and watch for invaders, specifically humans that want to catch them. It was a scouts duty to not fight the invader, but rather to warn the camp they were coming. Without scouting, their camp would be open to attack and they wouldn’t have any time to run and hide.

On the off-chance of an attack, Trunk was one of the few who could defend against any Trainer that approached. However, as strong as he was, he would rather hide than risk his own life being caught. But when a Trainer did challenge him, he fought with everything he had.

Trunk didn’t even like scouting because nothing ever happened. He followed the same path every time he went out, seeing the same trees, the same bushes, and sometimes even the same Pokemon. The whole camp knew he didn’t want to go but it was his job. If he didn’t do it, the elders have threatened to banish him. There was nothing worse for a Pokemon than being banished from their clan. And there was always an internal scar, a painful memory of it ever happening. This shame was something Trunk could not live with. Though he knew the elders would not banish him, because he was the strongest Pinsir in the camp, he scouts anyway to keep his honor and dignity.

But on this particular scouting run, he heard something distinct. Some kind of wailing, from over there. It was off his normal route but he had to investigate. He quietly rustled through a field of tall grass, much taller than him. Once on the other side, he quickly looked around, trying to hear where that noise came from. That was when he saw the blue figure on the ground next to a dead tree, weeping. It was definitely a Pokemon.

The blue Heracross sat up, wiping her tears away. Through her clouded eyes, she saw a strong Pinsir approaching. She froze and cowered her body closer to the dirt.

Trunk curiously watched and wondered where this Pokemon came from. Surely the Heracross clan was miles and miles away from here. But there was something about her that made him more curious. Perhaps it was the light green scarf she was wearing around her neck; it seemed to bring out her green eyes even more. Or maybe it was the fact that the plates on her body were shining as if she was an angel.

“I don’t mean you any harm. What brings you so far away from your clan?”

The Heracross was almost too nervous to say anything. “I... I....I was banished.”


“Yeee... Yes. I.... refused to take off this scarf I found. We aren’t allowed to wear any human items.”

Trunk stepped right up to her and held out his claw. “For someone as beautiful and lovely as you to be banished, you’re elders must be complete fools.” The Heracross blushed. He turned around. “I’ll find some food for you. From now on, there will be no crying.”

He returned with armfuls of fruit and nutrient rich leaves. After they ate this grand meal, they sat on one of the branches of the dead tree and watched the sun disappear over the trees in the distance. The lake below accentuates the aura of orange, red, and purple colors as they stream in and around the clouds.

“Thank you, kind Pinsir, for helping me. I know I will never forget my clan, but, I guess, being out here is better. I’ve never seen the sun set so wonderfully before.”

“It only happens at this spot too. During winter, when the lake is partially frozen, it is even more magnificent.”

“Will you show me that someday?”

“Of course, Heracross.”

She smiles. “You may call me Little Horn.”

“Ah, a name almost as befitting as the beauty in your eyes.” She blushed even more. “I am Trunk, the strongest warrior from my camp. Oh.... speaking of which, I must return.” He leapt down. Little Horn followed. “No, you must stay here. We don’t allow outside Pokemon to stay in our camp. I shall return tomorrow. Wait for me.”

“You’re the only person I can trust. Thank you. I will always wait here, no matter how long.”


Everyday after that, Trunk visited Little Horn at the dead tree, overlooking the lake below. He brought her food and even the best sap gathered at camp. They laughed and talked about their own camps, and how much they wish the silly rules would change. But mostly they hung out in silence, sitting close together in the tree, arms around each other, watching the sun set again and again.

Back at camp, Trunk volunteered to scout everyday and even take over shifts for other Pinsir. The whole camp was in an uproar and were surprised from his turn of conscience. However noble he tried to be, every time he went to scout he spent the whole time with Little Horn. And no one was the wiser.

Summer past and fall was almost over. And still, Trunk and Little Horn never gave up on each other.

“Trunk, tomorrow I want to see your camp. I have been dreaming about it for many weeks and I want to meet your elders. Perhaps they will allow me to stay.”

“Perhaps, Little Horn, you are correct. If they can’t accept the fact that we are together, then I don’t need them. You and I can live here ourselves.”

And so, Trunk follows his former scouting path back to camp. His claw shakes as he leads Little Horn behind him. But it was something that had to be done.

At first, the reaction was just as expected. Every Pinsir, whether elder or youngster, froze and stared at the invading Heracross holding hands with Trunk. The mothers rushed out and scooped their children back, as they know an argument was about to break out. Elder Paku rose from under the inscribed tree and stood out front.

“TRUNK! What is this? You know the rules.” Paku snorted from his nose.

“Please, she is a kind and fair Pokemon. Over the many months we have grown closer and closer and there is no denying our bond. You must allow Little Horn to stay with me because without her, I am not whole.”

Elder Paku smacked Trunk in the head. “Are you mad? We are a Pinsir Camp, we have rules. Is this what you have been doing while scouting? ......Do you mean to tell us that we are unaware of the world outside this camp? We put our trust and faith that you will protect us and you expect us to honor your wishes?” He sighed heavily, grumbling. “You are lucky all this time we haven’t been attacked. But now, no one can trust you. And I will tell you only once: I never want to see her in our camp or anywhere around here ever again.”

Trunk stood tall and stared Paku in the eyes. Little Horn falls to her knees and begs, “No, please, I will leave. I don’t want to cause any harm to you or your clan.”

But Trunk shook his head defiantly. “Don’t you see. Our rules are meant to keep us safe, but they don’t keep us happy. And now that I’m finally happy, they want to take it all away. I stay with my offer. Let Little Horn stay.”

The other elders stepped up behind Paku and whispered to each other. “Trunk, for outright skipping scouting duties, bringing an outsider into camp, and disrespecting your elders and camp rules, you are hereby banned from camp. Take your leave immediately.”

Everyone watched as Trunk and Little Horn turned around and walked away with their heads held high.

“Elder Paku! Elder Paku!”Sickle ran into camp screaming. He paused to catch his breath. “I saw a Trainer nearby.”

The elder’s eyes light up. “We have to hide, underground, quickly.”

“Is Trunk still out scouting? Someone has to tell him...”

“No, Sickle, he’s on his own now.”

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Old 07-20-2006, 08:28 PM
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~lil leprechaun~
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Arrow Waiting in Stone

The human Trainer kicked the dirt and looked at the prints. There were Pokemon here not too long ago, he thinks, but where have they gone now? He spotted a unique print in the dirt that led away from the scrambling prints. Hmmmm. He grabbed a Pokeball and sprinted forward.

After a ten minute run, frantically looking all over, he found two Pokemon resting by a small puddle. Aha, I found you. There’s a Pinsir, just like the old man said. That Heracrosss will also make a find addition to my team.

Trunk lifted up from the puddle after drinking and instantly prepared a battle ready stance. “Little Horn, look out, a Trainer!” She gasped and stepped back. “We must make a break for it.”

The Trainer released his metal Pokeball, calling one of his Pokemon out. The tall Pokemon stretched her arms and raised her punching gloves to her face.

“Look Hitmonchan, we have no trouble with you. Let us go freely.”

Hitmonchan punched her gloves together. “Not a chance.”

Trunk pushed Little Horn to run away. He can’t risk her being caught. Little Horn ran as fast as she could, sometimes releasing her wings out from her plates to pick up speed. Trunk followed, pounding the ground as he ran. *SLAM* Hitmonchan quickly rushed in and punched Trunk, knocking him off balance and sliding over the ground.

“I am much faster and better trained than you, Pinsir. There is no escape.”

Pinsir stood up and growled back. He charged, with his horns down. Hitmonchan easily side-stepped away and slammed a punch downward on Trunk’s back, which caused him to fall forward. He stood up again, ready to charge but another punch hit his stomach. The fighter jumps back and raised her fists again. After three solid punches, Trunk felt like collapsing, but he had to keep going. He bent down, grabbing some soil and charged again, this time standing up. Hitmonchan quickly leapt forward and over and landed behind, ready to throw a punch. Trunk gripped the ground with his clawed feet, half turned, and blocked the punch with his arm. With his other hand, he threw the clump of dirt at her face. Still holding on to her blocked punch, Pinsir half turned his body back to normal and threw her back into a tree. As if that wasn’t enough, Hitmonchan carefully stood, trying to brush the dirt from her face, when Trunk slams his sharp pincers into her, pressing her into the tree, and with continued force, knocking the tree over.

Little Horn turned as she heard the familiar sound of a tree falling. She then noticed Trunk wasn’t following her. She gasped... “The Trainer...” and quickly flew back.

Trunk stepped back, tired from all the moves he used so quickly, especially his back from turning so fast with that last throw. But with encouraging words from the human, the trained Pokemon stood back up, fists up, with a black eye. As quick as a blink of the eye, she vanished and appeared in front of Trunk. One punch, after another, after another, almost never stopping, like a hail storm of punches. After two dozen or so quick punches within ten seconds, Hitmonchan leans back, fist down, and sent a glowing uppercut forward, which knocked Pinsir into the air and landing into the puddle. Trunk slowly made it to his feet, wet, and exhausted. The Trainer took advantage of Pinsir being wet, and called for a special attack. Hitmonchan’s glove glowed lightly, with a faint feel of coldness, and slammed into Trunk, freezing every bit of water that hung onto him. He wasn’t frozen entirely, but Bug type Pokemon hate anything cold. The fighter Pokemon smirked and wound up her arm, ready for a final blow...

“Little Horn....” he said as the final punch threw him into the air ten feet, shattering the ice bits. He landed limply, without any energy to try and make it an easier fall.

“TRUNK!!” Little Horn cries as she watched the attack.

*COUGH* “Little Horn... ack.... you must be safe. You are all that ever mattered..... to me. Ack... You must stay free....”

“But... I.... I love you!”

“I love you too.... ack.... wait for me.... I will return......”

She didn’t know what to do and she had nowhere to go, but she ran. For three days and three nights, she wandered the forest, not eating or drinking anything. All she had was her own sadness to fuel her passion to go on, and even that was fading. The crying stopped only to be replaced by heavy sniffling and nervous shakes. At times, she collapsed under her own strength, then manage to stand a couple hours later.

“What foul deed have I bestow upon the world to be treated this way?”

And yet, she continued on. Stumbling and sliding, tripping and falling. It was then, the watching Pokemon became concerned, yet they didn’t know how to help. They watched her suffer as she climbed hills and crossed dangerous rivers. As weeks continued to pass by, rumors spread about her, mixing in fact and fiction. A quick story was compiled, as followed:

“Little Horn, the Heracross. She was a lost Pokemon expelled from her clan. When one day she met a tough and friendly Pinsir named Trunk, whom helped her survive. Trunk could not bring Little Horn back to his camp because they did not allow outsiders. So every day, he visited her and with each passing moment, they grew closer and closer.”
“One day Trunk returned to camp with Little Horn and told them his love confession. The camp elders were enraged and threw them both out.”
“Later, an invading human appeared. The Pinsir camp was spared. Unfortunately, Trunk and Little Horn were out in the open. Trunk fought well for his love but lost. Before he was captured, he told Little Horn, ‘Be free. I will return to you’....”

Through the years, the story evolved nearly legendary and was told among most wild Pokemon camps in the area. The story grew with more detail as more and more Pokemon heard it. As soon as the Pinsir camp first heard this story, five year later, they were shocked. They feared the worse for Trunk but never knew what happened. And now his story was being told throughout the forest as a tale of love and sacrifice

Even though it has been five years since they last saw Little Horn, they were hoping she would still be in the forest. The very least, they had to apologize for their harsh treatment. Since the story had been so popular, the wild Pokemon were graciously helpful toward the Pinsir camp, even when they never talked to them. But the story had brought the outsiders to tears, it was almost a joy to help the Pinsir.

Soon, they appeared in front of a sparkling lake with the most beautiful tree ever seen in all of the forest. The pinkish-red flowers bloomed at the right size while the branches uniformly design the top, as if reaching the heavens. At the base was a large boulder, notched with holes and a single protruding stub on top. No matter how anyone looked at it, the shape was definitely that of a sitting Heracross. And there on the trunk of the tree was an inscribed heart with T + LH in the middle and a scarf wrapped around a branch.

“It was then, that Little Horn arrived at the dead tree, which her and Trunk watched every sun set from. She knew if he was ever to return, this was where he would go. She remained in mourning for many years, ever waiting and hoping that today might be that day. When it was her time to pass on, she instead turned to stone, so she could always wait until her love came back. And the tree, that was once dead for decades, was given life by her tears and had turned into the most beautifully created inspiration of nature in all the world.”

Thanks PE2K for all the memories.

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