((As awkward as this post may seem, I needed some time to respond to Evanist's post earlier, to which I wasn't allocated any during to my absence.))

I couldn't stop thinking negatively at myself. That dream obviously had something to do with Davis, but thanks to myself, I screwed up. Went off-topic and left little for that Porygon to respond. He wasn't Davis after all, despite the name in his anagram. Something was terribly wrong, and a cover-up couldn't be coincidental. Why erase my memories of last night? Sure, a message was sent, but then erasing it would've been pretty stupid.

"Hmmm...?" I slowly floated upwards, attracting bits of lint. Like many others in the room, I had heard some rather damaging rumours. I wasn't tired; rather, I wasn't used to the concept of sleep. Someone forced me into bed. I felt nauseated when echoes of voices talking about scarves and disappearing Pokemon began ringing in my head. Then it struck to me like last night - I had a concussion. Heh; the last time I had a concussion was when I was barged into a tree, when floating upwards to reach a seemingly-glowing Sitrus berry. I wearyingly managed to hover out the room, forcing off lint and some fur. [i]Fur? What the...?[/i] I was shocked to find fur on myself. No, I wasn't growing any. Rather, someone had slept on my bed while I was getting bashed in my head. Upon close inspection, the colours of red and dark brown had reflected in the sunlight edging off my magnets. "I suppose some people are that desperate for a place to sleep." I came to a shoddy conclusion that I knew was wrong. Yet, what could I do about it? Was I assaulted in bed by a Pokemon with fur? That conclusion was the best one, and it also happened to suit myself.

"Eh... my head." I muttered, dragging myself from the once-crowded corridors of Arnold's guild. "Morning." It often annoyed me how just one word was acceptable for greetings. I expected more effort going in their acknowledgement of others. At least until now, when I experienced first-hand why they often didn't even bother. "I think I was assaulted in the lobby, because I've got a concussion and can't remember what I did for 30 minutes that night."

"That brings me to the present." With strength in my rotation, I reluctantly (in dull pain) turned to Celes, who fashioned a handmade-scarf, crafted by... Spruce, by the looks of it. "Celes, would you please explain - KINDLY, because I've got a concussion - why there's a bounty out for your head? (Or something; I haven't been remembering things well lately.)"