[center][h2]Route 117[/h2]
Collab with [@phoenix][/center]

Haven floated back to consciousness like a piece of driftwood pulled in by the tide, slow and languid. Darkness turned to light, shining against her eyelids and warming her skin. Dull, distant pain wrapped around her like water, engulfing and inescapable, soaking her through. Her eyebrows pulled together, the most movement she could manage. A weak, low groan sounded in the back of her throat.

There was movement along her side in response, a familiar chittering and snuffling. Something sweet chimed above her like a bell before seeming to move away. Haven turned her head to the side, away from the light her eyes were still closed to and tried to find that dark warmth that'd comforted her, that peaceful sleep she'd somehow lost. She didn't want to wake up yet. Blades of grass poked her cheek and her lips pursed together in a small pout. The grass was pokey and annoying. Why was she on grass? She wanted to be in bed. 

There was that movement again at her sides. As she swam back to consciousness she finally recognized the sounds of her team, the feel and weight of their bodies along hers.

[i]Shit[/i], she just wanted to go back to sleep. Why were they fussing so much?

But just as suddenly as they'd started, her team stilled. They seemed to press in closer to her. She vaguely registered Dagger's low warning growl. A shadow passed over Haven's body and stilled. Then there was a voice, soft and gravelly, like running fingertips over sandpaper and feeling the grit tickle your skin. It asked her where she was. 

[color=coral]"The ground,"[/color] she mumbled in response. It was the kind of smart ass answer that would get her a smack over the head back home, but Haven couldn't bring herself to care. She wasn't home. She was... in Hoenn. Foggy memories of painting on the streets of Mauville floated through her mind. And then... what? The image was just out of reach, just beyond the haze of her thoughts.

A low grumble, possibly a chuckle, pushed through his thick chest. The air around them vibrated softly. It was easier to feel the sentiment than to hear the response. She seemed aware, and not confused, which was a good sign judging from a lack of medical knowledge. 

One eye finally cracked open, the fog lifting to reveal the blinding green of grass. She blinked a few more times before getting fed up and closing her eyes again. With another groan she moved her neck so she was facing the sky again. The pain was starting to solidify in her arm and back, growing sharper than just the sore cloud that floated through the rest of her. The voice introduced itself as Forrest.

[color=coral]”Haven,”[/color] she said, her eyes still stubbornly closed. She tried moving, readjusting how her spine laid on the ground, but only winced, her face scrunching into a grimace. 

[color=coral]"Ow,"[/color] she complained. An eye cracked open to see… some huge shirtless lumberjack. Named Forrest, apparently. Because what else would a lumberjack be named?  He loomed over her, and she wanted to flinch away from him and his largeness and his closeness. 

"Easy," he whispered, growled with affection for a stranger. "You're not fully healed."

[color=coral]"You mind? You're blocking my sun."[/color]  She closed her eyes again, like that would defend her from whatever it was that made her so uncomfortable. Dagger's growling grew louder and Haven shushed her with a soft sound.

"You need to relax." It was like she was his child, by the timbre in his voice. Soft, but firm. He didn't move, not wanting to strain her eyes by opening them in direct sunlight.

The long whining sound like a siren, but soft and gentle, neared them. The Milotic floated in the air above them. Her long body twisting and curling around itself in an intricacy and fluidness like the psychic energy around her. A periwinkle aura surrounded her. She looked down upon the girl, analyzing what she could and assessing the situation more intimately than Masquerain could. 

Medicham stretched her mind into the girl. Her thoughts hazy, drunken as she slowly stirred to consciousness. She could feel a cool and heavy presence in her mind. Firm, blanketing, but not suffocating. Medicham didn't speak to the girl and only assessed her silently. She found there to be little head trauma. Being thrown around and felled so harshly, she was surprised how in-tact her mind was, despite having been sleeping for so long. But the poison still flowed through her veins.

"Jerrek," the man called out behind him. A few moments later, a boy approached with a bag almost as large as he. It was dragged across the ground, unable to be lifted properly. "Thank you," Forrest said softly.

"Is she alright?" the boy spoke. His voice a stark contrast to the man, though unsurprising for a boy of ten years.

"No, hon," he said, his tone markedly higher, as if he needed to speak to his son in a tone unoffensive and almost-pleasant. "But she will be."

[color=coral]"She's fine,"[/color] Haven cut in, annoyed that they were talking about her as though she weren't even there. Her eyes opened again to see the lumberjack. Now motivated to prove her claim, she mustered up as much energy as she could and forced her palms into the grass to push herself up. 

Immediately pain shot through her right arm, from her wrist to her elbow and echoing up to her shoulder. 

[color=coral]"Aah-!"[/color] Her sharp cry was cut off as Haven grit her teeth together and let herself fall again, only for a large hand to catch the pained arm as well as her back, not allowing her to fall to the ground. He cradled the pain as if to sooth it away by touch. Haven blinked through the sensation, staring up with unfocused eyes. When her vision cleared again she carefully lifted her right arm above her face to inspect it. 

"It's not broken," the man told her. He only knew this due to Medicham's mental inspection and Milotic's aural evaluation.

Pink raised lines zigzagged across the pale skin of her forearm, fresh scar tissue mapping her veins. Spaced evenly between her wrist and elbow were four hollow pockmarks, two on either side of her arm, the size of coins and lined with more scar tissue. Lines of smaller puncture marks arced in a crescent on her skin, surrounding the larger scars. Haven stared blankly at them as though trying to read a foreign language. How…

The flash of fangs and a screech of thunder flickered in her memory. Rain drops so sharp and heavy they felt like needles stabbing her skin, the icy grip of fear in her throat, of death– 

Haven's heart tripped and she gasped, the memory of the night slamming into her with the force of a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. With a jerk she tried to wrench her arm free, to pull away from the stranger. But that only brought more pain dancing through her bones. Another cry escaped her, only for Haven to bite it back to a whimper. Dagger leapt to her feet with a snarl, only for Cloak to shoot up an arm, a thin line to hold her back as she glared. Distantly Haven was aware of vines curling around her uninjured wrist.

"Stop," he said. Firm, accosting, now. "You're making it worse." Haven managed to obey, stilling. Her mind still raced through the events of the night, putting the pieces together. But it was over, she told herself. The night was over.

The man glanced at the Weepinbell and nodded approvingly. A silent "thank you" through a gesture of the head as well as an "it's okay, you can let go." The vines loosened slightly, but Blink still clung to Haven, more for his sake than hers. The hand under her severely damaged arm moved it gently onto her chest, trying not to touch any of the visibly affected areas. Still, she grimaced, anticipating pain. 

"Stay still," he said, more softly now. He twisted his torso so his hand could plunge into the bag behind him. He held a large piece a fruit that looked small between his fingers. The light pink skin of the Pecha berry looked as if it could fall off, indicating how ripe it was. He turned back, his right hand still under her back, and rose the fruit to the girl's lips. "Take a small bite," he said. 

The berry wouldn't have any powerful or immediate affects. Over time, it would cure the inflammation in her veins and nullify the toxins. But he hoped that, for now, it would provide some level of soothing to the victim. 

After she nibbled he lifted the berry away and up, indicating for the boy to take it and keep it at the ready for her when she was more fit to feed herself. His right hand then slid under her knees and gently lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. Haven realized what he was doing too late and let out a startled sound when he rose. Blink released his grip on her reluctantly. Forrest pressed her against his torso, her shoulder into the right side of his chest in order to keep her stable and from moving around too much. Her team hurried after them.

Now that her back was no longer to the ground, she could feel the cool morning air moving against her bare back. The skin felt tight and sore where her spine curved. Shreds of the dirty green robe swayed beneath her with every step. The memory of the Scyther attacking her flashed through her mind and Haven seemed to shrink into herself more.

Forrest carefully paced toward the small stream that formed a pond further down where the Milotic was previously. The giant serpent followed them from above and watched as the man lowered her softly onto the grass, sitting her up so her feet drifted through the soft stream. 

"That should relax you," he said, a feigned warning that the water would be cool but that Milotic enchanted the waters with some calming properties. 

He remained next to her, still towering over her despite their sitting on the stream's bank. He kept his hand behind her back, prepared to catch her if she were to collapse again. He seemed far too familiar with a stranger than normal. However, Hoenn-natives were known for their hospitality among other Regions.

Now in the sun, she could feel the warmth and energy over her skin. It was soft against her face, soaking into her black hair. 

Cloak and Dagger placed themselves on Forrest's other side, still eyeing him carefully, but Blink hurried next to Haven, almost burying himself in the fabric of her robe. Haven lifted her good hand and put her arm around him, gently stroking his yellow skin. After a moment Lace came trotting up, her little legs taking careful steps. Most of her horns had been broken off and Haven frowned in sympathy. Lace hated when she lost her horns. They could never grow back fast enough for her.

But balanced between the jagged pink nubs was a creamy egg with large green spots. Haven blinked at it, having forgotten it was the whole reason for the ordeal. She stared at it a moment before pulling her eyes away. Haven looked down at her bare feet, watched how the water played with the light and distorted their shape. She'd always loved how water changed things. She loved the challenge that came with trying to paint it. Her heart rate was slowing, her breath growing more even as the memories of last night became less sharp and immediate. Instead they were a heavy reality that sank into her. She opened her mouth, thinking of some sarcastic comment or half-hearted joke. But she couldn't find one.

[color=coral]"They wanted the egg,"[/color] she finally said in a soft voice. Haven didn't know who 'they' were, or if Forrest even knew what she was talking about, but she couldn't stop herself from continuing, [color=coral]"Don't know why. Didn't really have time to ask."[/color] She was quiet for a long moment, eyes still on the water. [color=coral]"What,"[/color] she started before cutting herself off. [color=coral]"What happened to them?"[/color] Because something [i]must've[/i] happened to them, or else they would've taken the egg.

The man's eyes stayed on the flowing water. The lights twinkled, the blues and greens faded to different hues and back into each other. Beneath, the forms of stones and the sand ever shifting. Every part of Hoenn was beautiful despite humans' interference.

"Banette performed Dark Void, I believe," he said low. His focus on the waving glass surrounding their feet. Haven raised an eyebrow. She wasn't a battler. She didn't know every move.

[color=coral]"That sounds pleasant."[/color]

"Depending on her intent, they must be in a coma." 

A blanket, woolen and rough, was placed over her shoulders from behind. The boy, Jerrek, wanted to cover her more appropriately, assuming she might be uncomfortable in little more than a robe torn and bloody. He then rushed to sit himself next to the Weepinbell, hoping to listen in on their conversation, too curious to know what really happened.

"Here," he said, his voice bright and smile wide across his face. The Pecha berry she'd taken a small bite from seemed to consume his hand as it stretched out for Haven to retrieve, if she could.

Haven glanced over at the kid and his offering before lifting her hand from Blink and taking the berry. She gave him a small smile in thanks before taking another bite. She looked back down at the water as she chewed. After she swallowed her eyes flicked up to look at Forrest.

[color=coral]"Thanks."[/color] The word seemed frail and small, unequipped for the gravity of what she was thanking him for. Her eyes darted back down. [color=coral]"They ever gonna wake up?"[/color]

"Possibly," he said, uncaring and cold. She stilled at his tone. "She can wake them up if need be. I haven't decided, yet. Probably want to get the Rangers involved before doing so," he thought to himself.

He didn't shift or move. Though his presence was as large as his body, he tried to make an attempt to move as little as possible as to not surprise or frighten any of them.

"So, I assume you didn't steal the egg..." he began, almost insinuating that she could have started the whole thing, almost.

Haven let out a huff and rolled her eyes, his words bringing up memories of her mother and sisters from when she was younger and more troublesome. Though… for all Haven knew, she [i]did[/i] steal the egg. She noticed Dagger had gone oddly quiet on Forrest's other side. 

[color=coral]"I was at the Daycare,"[/color] she supplied, instead. [color=coral]"The guy broke in, trashed the place, grabbed the egg, and ran."[/color] What happened before that was irrelevant. [color=coral]"I chased after him."[/color] Like an idiot. Carefully, Haven pulled her feet out of the water and back on the shore. 

The man just growled in his throat in response, disturbed by the fact that someone would do such a thing to an Egg, as well as Mrs. James. He could only imagine what she went through before he showed up.

But something confused him. There were two men with four Pokemon, yet she only referenced a "him," making him think it was some kind of ambush or ploy to get her to a vulnerable state, or even kill her, which weighed on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

[color=coral]"I'm feeling better. I should probably get back before they think I died."[/color] Haven stopped and closed her eyes against her poor phrasing. But she didn't want to deal with Rangers. Too many encounters with the law enforcement in her youth had left her uncomfortable with them. And really, she just wanted this all to be [i]over[/i]. 

"No, you need to -"

Standing was a challenge, but eventually she managed to get upright with minimal wincing. Her legs didn't feel entirely solid under her, but she was tired of feeling like an invalid. Blink's vine was curling around her wrist again. It seemed the ordeal had made him clingy. 

"Ms. Haven, please," he began, rising to his feet next to her. She barely reached beneath his chest as they stood next to each other. His hands clasped her shoulders to make sure she wouldn't fall over. "You need to rest. Please. Just eat the berry and sit back down for a moment and we can go from there," he said, as if they were traveling together, as if he was responsible for her. "You're in no state to walk back to the Daycare." Haven shrugged off his hands and was already turning away from him. 

[color=coral]"I walked from Mauville to the Daycare in a storm last night, I can do it again with some cuts and bruises."[/color] And a whole lot of new scars, apparently. Part of her knew she was just being stubborn, but the other part really didn't care.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her four pokeballs. Cloak and Dagger had gotten up to move to her side, while Blink still clung to her and Lace looked up at her from underneath the egg. She paused to look at it. That egg had gotten her into a whole lot of trouble already. What was she supposed to do with it? Bring it back to the Daycare? What if someone came after it again? She could leave it with the Rangers, maybe… They were the most equipped to handle something like this, since she had no idea where it [i]actually[/i] came from.

"Fine," Forrest said with a sigh. Haven looked at him over her shoulder, not expecting him to give up that easily.

The cloth around his neck was shoved into the duffle carried over by the boy, once again. He then slung the single strap across his torso. It pulled against his skin and hair with a noticable weight. He then took a few steps and quickly scooped the girl up into his arms as she let out a startled yelp. "You're not walking, though." It sounded tired, reprimanding. 

He clearly wasn't going to just leave herself to hike back to the Daycare, barely recovered from a near-death battle between herself and two criminals. "And then you're going to rest properly when we get there."

"But Daddy..." the boy started to whine. "We have to get back home! Mommy's going to be worried."

"Your mother will be fine," he reassured the boy without much effort. It seemed he cared more about making sure a stranger was okay than reassure his own family or their own safety. 

Haven was quickly regaining her senses, fidgeting in his arms. This was getting annoying. 

[color=coral]"You know I've managed to get this far in life without an escort, right? And I already have a mother, so the doting, overprotective position is filled. Which means you can put me down and I can [i]walk[/i]."[/color] If nothing else, at least this ordeal was working up her energy again. She looked over her shoulder to see the ground far below. How did people even [i]get[/i] this tall? She started weighing her options, guessing at how likely she was to land on her feet if she jumped. Heck, even landing on her butt might be preferable to the mortification of having to be carried back.

"What you need right now is a doctor," he retorted with a vague playfulness in his tone. "And since neither of us possess the education for being qualified as such," – an immediate retort sprang to her tongue that he didn't know she wasn't a doctor, but she held it back – "I'm assuming you shouldn't walk after being sliced open, bitten, and poisoned and then falling unconscious. So excuse the 'doting,' please." She looked down at his words, knowing he had a point but unwilling to admit it. It was odd, though, to think that she was the person he was describing. There was a disconnect between Haven and whoever was attacked last night, like it was just a story or a picture in a book. Not her. 

A quick hum, like an orb of air passing through his lungs, vibrated through his chest. "Just eat the berry and let me make sure you're going to live."

After a quick moment, he began to chuckle to himself. It was as if someone shared an amusing thought or quip, a light-hearted joke that was never voiced. He just hummed in agreement with a slight smile on his face. Haven raised an eyebrow up at Forrest before she remembered the Medicham. 

[i]Psychic types.[/i] 

She sat in his arms, not quite relaxed, but resigning herself to… this. The Daycare couldn't be that far away. Haven would just suffer through this and then take a bath and throw herself into bed after. And… a quiet voice whispered in her mind that maybe she was relieved she wouldn't have to be by herself… not yet.

Haven gave a quiet sigh of defeat and reached a hand into her pocket to get her pokeballs.

[color=coral]"Cloak, grab the egg,"[/color] she instructed. The Scrafty went and picked the egg up off of Lace before the Corsola was called back into her pokeball. Blink and Dagger followed soon after. They had all looked exhausted after the fight and keeping vigil over her after it had ended. 

[color=coral]"What about the…"[/color] her words stumbled as she tried to think about what to call them. The attackers? The thieves? [color=coral]"Vegetables?"[/color] she settled on. [color=coral]"Just gonna leave them here?"[/color] She still hadn't seen them since she'd woken up. But… maybe that was for the best.

"Eh," he hummed. "They'll be taken care of. You needn't worry about it." 

Around them, his Pokemon gathered, wandered along a path as if they knew the destination. They paced ahead or lagged behind. Hovered above and walked beside. Once they made it to the route proper, the path was much smoother. Still, she didn't notice much discomfort in his arms, holding stiff under her. 

The storm of the night broke into a gleaming day. Clouds swiped across the light blue sky, the trees lining the path produced a strong sent of pollens and bark. The leaves rustled gently in passing breezes, giggling to themselves, or possibly at Haven. There were some trainers and breeders casually making their way to either Mauville or Verdanturf. Haven did her best to shrink in on herself, her warm face turned towards Forrest's chest and her long hair forming a dark curtain between herself and the many people. Cloak had the nerve to snicker to himself as he walked beside them, the traitor. Tourists stopped to capture images of the wild Pokemon native to the Region. A few stopped to try and take pictures of the man carrying the young lady with Pokemon all around them, but Medicham worked to make them forget about even seeing them.

Some mentioned him by name. "Mr. Johnson!" they called out. "How's the Academy doing?" Apparently the lumberjack was well known around these parts.

"Ah, Forrest, my boy. What's your father working on?" [i]Very[/i] well known.

"Um, Mr. Johnson, sir," a small boy, younger than Jerrek, approached meekly. "Can I have an autograph?" Haven's head darted up to look at the child with wide, perplexed eyes. She then turned them on Forrest. Apparently she'd ended up in the arms of some local celebrity.

Of course, he had to turn down the poor kid, but his hand were full, quite literally. The man promised "later," and then turned his attention to Jerrek, deciding to follow them for a time until he was called by his older brother to continue to Verdanturf. 

[color=coral]"What, did you pull Timmy out of a well or something?"[/color] But he didn't answer as they walked, instead exchanging pleasantries with the people they passed.

Some offered to help, but didn't seem disappointed to be turned down. Some were curious about the girl in his arms, but he made sure to keep their predicament between themselves. Haven was back to hiding behind her hair, as more and more people came up to them. The too-curious were sent away by Medicham or Milotic. There wasn't too much traffic on the Route, but enough to hinder their hike, nonetheless.

There was no way she'd run this far last night, she thought. Was it just that she was mortified and wanted it to end already, so it was dragging on for an eternity? Or was 'Mr. Johnson' just taking forever? 

Soon enough the Daycare's familiar shape was in sight, the it looked different in the day. The shattered window on the side where the thief had broken in was definitely new. Relief coursed through her nonetheless, and she started pushing away from his chest.

[color=coral]"Ok, we're here, you've done your civic duty. I'm alive and everything."[/color] She was about to die of embarrassment, but she wouldn't dare tell him that. He might insist on carrying her up to her room. [color=coral]"So this has been lovely but you can put me [i]down[/i] now."[/color]

He had to crouch a bit when he lowered her to the ground. Relief stirred in her chest when the ground didn't tip and sway under her when she stood. Haven was surprised to find herself [i]missing[/i] the feeling of a body around her, though. Of being held. It'd been embarrassing as hell, but it'd also felt… [i]safe[/i]. She wrapped her arms around herself, careful of her injured right arm. She absently tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Hold on," Forrest said and whipped the duffle from off his back and onto the ground. "Take another."

Another Pecha berry was extended toward her. The affects on humans were, certainly, deafened, but they had some effect, nonetheless. Only highly concentrated forms of the fruit would have hastened effects, but they weren't at the Medical Centre in Lavaridge, so eating a fresh berry was next best thing. Haven did as she was told and reached out to grab it.

"Take care," he said. His dull, steely eyes pleaded with her to not strain herself and to seek some kind of medical attention, either in Mauville's small clinic or making it to Rustboro to be admitted into the Hospital. She would likely do neither of these things. But Haven met his gaze and in that moment she was reminded of her mother – how she'd be so intense with her worry that Haven would think she was angry. But she'd look in her eyes and see a soft, quiet kind of care. And so Haven only nodded obediently to Forrest.

[color=coral]"Thank you,"[/color] she said again. [color=coral]"Really."[/color] The word seemed inadequate. Haven just stood there lamely for a moment before she opened her mouth again on impulse. [color=coral]"Don't just leave them like that,"[/color] she blurted out. [color=coral]"The vegetables. Make sure they wake up. Please. Don't leave them to…"[/color] To die. Like they would've left her. 

Between her smallness and his largeness, the difference between them forced her to crane her neck to look up at him. She closed her mouth and gave a small nod, unsure of what else to do. Then she turned on her heal (carefully and very slowly) and began the painful steps up to the door. Every time she moved pain seemed to thrum through her, up her back, across her shoulders, down her legs. Getting carried had probably been the right call. Not that she'd ever admit that to Forrest.

When Haven reached the door she pushed it open with her left hand and peaked her head around it. She probably should've stayed to check on Mrs. James last night, made sure she was ok. At least she'd gotten the egg back, whatever [i]that[/i] was worth. She'd almost gotten [i]killed[/i] for that thing, and Haven didn't even know why. She probably should've tried harder to find that out, but the idea of revisiting that night, talking to her attacker… her heart stuttered at the very thought.

Pushing the door open more, Haven took a step forward onto the cool wooden floor of the Daycare.

[color=coral]"Hello?"[/color] she called. [color=coral]"Mrs. James?"[/color]