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As Tenebrae spoke there was a startled yelp from one of the Growlith, followed by at least three others and a sudden scrambling in the snow as the advancing group bounded back, tumbling over each other in the effort.

The Teal eyed one somehow managed to collide with the others, and the both of them went rolling into the snow before everything fell silent again.
Perking his head up out of the ground, shaking his head out as he pushed to stand up, flattening his ears along his head.

He asked. He asked. Though it suddenly occurred to him that maybe it was poison or something!

The growlith leaned his head back at the reply, it seemed to have upset the other pokemon for some reason.
He repeated sounding confused

In fact, what were any of these things? He knew they were pokemon, but none he had ever seen before
A few through sniffs of the air brought him the resemblance of fire from one of them, but none of the others.

It sounded like the pokemon was making up words, but it was fascinating at the same time.

one of the Growlith barked, bouncing back and forth in the snow as he tried to get the others to follow.

Sounded like a waist to him. The Young Man looked like he was hurt, and out here there was so little food, he wasn't sure he would make it.

The Growlith tilted his head perking his ears again Made sense to him,

"Raaw?" His muzzle wrinkled slightly The Growlith answered

What in the world was going on, He had never heard a pokemon talk like that before, or go on about something that was as part of their life and life itself was.
his muzzle was still wrinkled, very confused about that point.
think's[ /i]going to happen when you die? Someone's gatta eat you.>

A questioning bark from the fire type, clearly having never heard anything like what the Umbreon had said, and honestly found it a little unbelievable.
Care and companionship? It sounded like a pack to him, but the idea that this other pokemon was calling what pokemon here accepted as a normal part of their life 'freakish'

Urged the others in the pack, pacing back and forth.

With a last glance back to the other pack the fire type pounced through the snow and departed back into the dark with his pack.

It hurt.

Everything hurt, but as his consciousness faintly began to stir, he gradually came to understand that this was different. It was sharp and needlelike, prickling, hot...

"Hey." Luke withdrew his hand, swatting lightly at the Flareon that had been biting his hand and wearing an expression that was likely intended to look stern, "No biting."

Mieu, an intense relief replacing panic in his demeanor, gave an apologetic "fieuu" in response and gently licked at the marks he had left. After spending a good half an hour unsuccessfully trying to get the trainer's attention through nudges and cries, it was all he could think to do. He was glad it had worked, even if the response was strange and groggy. 'No biting' was a reprimand Mieu had heard often as a mischievous Eevee, and it was unexpected to hear it again after so long.

Luke, for his part, had little recognition of exactly what he was saying, though now that he had woken he was gradually becoming more aware. With his returning consciousness came his memories of the previous day's events and of the situation he was in. From what he recalled, it wasn't a good one - the conclusion was supported by a brief survey of his surroundings. Groaning, he raised a hand to push through his hair, recoiling abruptly with a hiss of pain from the contact to his forehead. He dreaded his first encounter with a mirror.

The trainer spared a few more minutes immobile, enjoying the warmth of the Flareon pair that had taken up places in his lap in an effort to ignore his various aches and pains. Eventually, he heaved a sigh, gave a reluctant "okay," and shifted his posture. The pokemon nestled beside him cleared away to make room for their trainer to rise, watching him carefully as he did.

Luke's body violently protested his attempts at movement, his muscles seizing and his head spinning. He leaned backwards against the tree, shaking, as he gave every effort to prevent himself from being ill. It was awful; he couldn't remember feeling so awful in ages. Head pounding, vision spotty, stomach knotted, he sank down back onto the ground, folding his arms on his knees, resting his head against his arms, and desperately fighting to recover his bearings. At some point he became aware of the concerned cries of his pokemon, and he dropped one hand to a side to clear a space in his vision to regard them.

"Don't think I can go any further," he said, his voice weaker than he was expecting it. "Let's hang out here, okay? Can you make a fire?"

His companions were uneasy with his words, but they scattered nonetheless. Lorelei remained nearby as a heat source and Tartarus as shelter as Rem darted about the immediate area to gather fallen sticks, bringing them to Tenebrae who arranged them and Mieu who ignited them. It was a small fire, amateurishly constructed, but it produced warmth and comfort, and for the time being, that was all any of them could ask for.

A great guilt weighed on Luke's heart as he realized that he could only depend on Rosie's promise. He'd given her his word that he would do his best, but it seemed now that surviving was really the best he could do.