[h2][center]Pokemon Day-Care - Route 117[/center][/h2]
Haven stared absently at the egg as the old woman spoke, a crease worrying her brow. If Cloak and Dagger hadn't snatched the egg from the daycare then where the hell did it come from? Had they stolen it from some unassuming trainer in Mauville? From a wild nest along the route? Haven leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her sopping hair.

At least she was slowly warming up. Her shivering hadn't stopped yet though. And she could feel a new tightness around her throat that promised trouble.

Yeah. Walking all the way out here with no jacket in a storm hadn't been her brightest idea.

Haven told her that nothing particularly special had to be done with her bag – her spray cans were fine, her clothes were soaking wet, her... [i]shit[/i]. Her sketchbook. She'd splurged and got a high quality watercolor sketchbook so it might've been ok. But who knew if the paintings in them had bled and run with the extra water they'd been exposed to. 

[color=coral]"The only thing is my sketchbook… if you could lay that out and let it dry that'd be great."[/color] And with that Haven was dismissed with the promise of a shower and dinner. She nodded her thanks and forced herself to her feet.

The daycare was a small, homey building, old but still sturdy. With tired legs she made her way up to an empty room with the door that she assumed had been left open for her. A shower sounded [i]wonderful[/i]. And food. And [i]sleep[/i].

Haven had grown up taking short, brisk showers, careful not to waste water or heat in her family's little apartment. And so, despite how heavenly the hot water felt on her skin, she was done in a matter of minutes. Stepping out of the shower she grabbed a large towel hanging on a railing attached to the wall and made her way back into the room. 

A bath robe had been placed on the bed for her as she showered. 

Haven raised an eyebrow at that. She hadn't even heard the door open.

But she wasn't exactly in top form at the moment (the shower had woken her up a bit, but she was still sore and exhausted and could feel the beginnings of a cold) and it wasn't as though she expected the old woman or her pokemon to do anything creepy. The robe was a pale mint color and clearly too big for Haven. She reached out a hand to touch the material – soft and promising warmth. Who cared if it was big? Big promised heat, and Haven had always preferred oversized sweaters anyway. Even if she did look like a kid playing dress-up.

Soon enough she was wearing the robe, the sash synched tightly around her waist causing the thick material to bunch awkwardly around her, and the sleeves rolled up several times until her hands were poking out. She was already smaller than average. The oversized robe was comically big on her. Her thick dark hair fell in long wet clumps over her shoulders and down her back, already beginning to soak through the material. Haven shrugged to herself and after putting her four pokeballs in the robe's pockets (they'd want food too, though she wasn't sure she trusted Cloak and Dagger not to roughhouse… at least Blink would try to keep them in check) she opened the door to her room and poked her head outside. 

Haven could already smell the food. Wasting no more time, she closed her door behind her and walked down the stairs – only to run into an Azumarill when she reached the bottom. She remembered the woman running the daycare had an Azumarill… but this wasn't the same one, was it? No, this one seemed younger, more energetic as it bounced in front of Haven and beckoned her back towards the lobby. Haven raised an eyebrow. When she didn't immediately follow after the pokemon it turned back to her impatiently and waddled back. Very firmly grabbing her hand, it tugged Haven forward to the lobby. Too curious (and confused) to fight, Hven obediently followed until they arrived. The Azumarill released her hand and ran up to the guy standing by himself. It looked very proud of itself as it presented Haven to him.

Haven looked from the Azumarill to the man. 

[color=coral]"Uh… hi."[/color]

Haven vaguely recognized him as the person who'd come into the daycare after her. She'd been a bit distracted at the time. He was young, maybe around her age, and was wearing clothes clearly too small for him (not that she was necessarily complaining). The corner of her mouth twitched up at that. It seemed the daycare had trouble sizing people. Or their clothing options were just sparse. Haven looked up again to meet his eyes.

[color=coral]"Smells like food's ready, so… was there something you needed, or?"[/color] Haven let the sentence trail off. The Azumarill had dragged her here for [i]something[/i] but she had no idea what he could possibly want. And she [i]really[/i] wanted to eat. Or just pass out. Whichever came first.