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[biteoffherhead]

[Just another day, another time for Moro. Though usually quite content to keep her distance from humans (despite her growing fondness and affections towards the captives of Luceti, she was still incredibly hesitant to be trustful), today it seems she's lounging around just outside the village boundaries. She's even stretching and rolling around, participating in very casual behavior, not very typical of her usual demeanor.

Of course, these slightly embarrassing behaviors are only viewable from a distance, as she quickly regains her dignity and sulks into the cover of the trees when someone approaches too close.

The second half of the day is spent idly hunting. Because it's best to stock up on fatty reserves for the winter anyway. You might get that funny feeling of being followed...]

Comments

[biteoffherhead]

And yet you do not understand it. That alone is the reason most humans fear death. So much that they don't like to impart that experience onto others. Unless, of course, they are greedy and want something.

[That last sentence is said rather bitterly, and there's a very slight stumble in her step on the side with the bullet wound.]

But the first thing you must understand is what life is. Because the understanding of life will bring a true understanding of death.

[tsuntrader]

What do you mean? [Understanding life? He's... Not following. He's alive. He's living. That's all there is to it.]

[biteoffherhead]

Your life is not so simply 'there'. Your life belongs to life as a whole.

Look around you. Do you see where life flows? It does not begin. It does not end. It moves.

[tsuntrader]

[...Life flows...] It's a transition, not a start and an end.

[biteoffherhead]

In taking life, you are taking the life to support your own. Whether you are eating it to nourish yourself, or protecting your own life far in advance by killing those who endanger you, that life is being given to maintain yours.

And your own life will, someday, do the same. You will give life to children, and to whomever kills you. You may even be so fortunate to simply wither away with age, as humans are so prone to do.

Death is not something to be feared. But it is something you need to understand. Fearless ignorance is not courage.

[tsuntrader]

[Silver takes a moment to process this. ...The action of killing... Isn't inherently right or wrong. It's an act of preservation. But life is something of high value. Considering it as anything less is wrong. Being wasteful is wrong.

...A nod. Alright, got it.]

[biteoffherhead]

You are a predator. The fangs in your mouth are small, but you have wisdom enough to converse with gods. You have no claws, but you have agile and strong hands to build weapons.

Your intelligence is your claw. Your hands, your fangs. But you have legs and feet. You have scent, and eyes, and ears, though weaker and pathetic in comparison to mine. You can learn to hunt with these in the same way that I do.

[tsuntrader]

[...Yeah, that all makes sense. That's more or less what being a trainer's about. The last part, too. You can't be a trainer without being alert and having quick reflexes. You have to be able to endure things. That's just the way it is. Training yourself is just as important as training your Pokémon.

...But he's still pretty reliant on his Pokémon for offense. Fist fights aren't gonna cut it. Fist fights aren't enough to keep him alive. It feels more important than ever to be as close to on par with his Pokémon as he can be, even if a knife probably just won't cut it.

Another nod.]

[biteoffherhead]

Close your eyes.

Tell me what you can smell. What you can hear. Reach beyond the simple impression you get from both senses.

Your sense of smell is in your mouth. Open your mouth when you inhale, and tell me what the forest smells and tastes like.

[tsuntrader]

What I taste? [How- but- he's only--]

[biteoffherhead]

Do not argue with me!

[ROAR ROAR]

[tsuntrader]

[Someone else might have cringed. In Silver's case, he only straightens out his expression, almost fading out of focus for a moment. Of course, the second that moment is over, he's closing his eyes and doing what Moro says.

What does he hear? He starts gesturing with a hand.]

Something in the bushes over there. [Point.] ...Probably two things. [Pointing over to a tree to a bird nest. And some breeze, and some squirrel which he can't identify making its way up a tree.

This is easy. He can point out the little sounds in the forest. Even Moro's presence isn't hard to make out.

What he smells and tastes, on the other hand...]

[biteoffherhead]

What do you hear, that isn't animal movement?

[tsuntrader]

[...Is this a trick question

Well, he has to say what he smells and tastes. He should be able to listen for something else.

...But what?]

[biteoffherhead]

[The shift of the leaves? The slight sound of wind, and what direction it's coming? How the shift in air makes leaves and acorns fall, or the faint sounds of animal noise, like frogs.]

There is so much to hear. The forest is never silent. It is singing with life.

[tsuntrader]

[...Yeah, but why is any of that important? The animals in the forest are pretty predictable. Any sounds that he would need to pay attention to, he would. Those are just normal sounds.

Is it because it's all alive? Should he be more aware? Is there something he's really missing?...]

[biteoffherhead]

You must know all of her normal sounds to truly hear anything that is not her song. There are no abnormal sounds, now. Listen closely, and understand what the forest sounds like.

[tsuntrader]

[...Nod. And this time, he takes in every last little sound, no matter how trivial it seems.]

[biteoffherhead]

[She remains silent, giving him time.]

Move. Raise your arm slowly, and listen. Take a step forward, and listen to the movement of your body.

These are the sounds that every animal will hear. Will be listening for, for their survival.

[tsuntrader]

[Moving his arms, shuffling his feet, jumping walking, anything he can do to pay attention to the sounds he makes. Once he's done, he returns his attention to Moro.]

[biteoffherhead]

You cannot detect your own scent. But close your eyes.

Do you smell mine?

[tsuntrader]

Yeah. [Moro... Smells like a growlithe. Or something. A dog. And there's a grassy muddy rocky smell to her. He can recognize that much, at least.]

[biteoffherhead]

Do not forget these. Now, open your eyes.

[tsuntrader]

[...Doing so, and directing his gaze right at Moro.]

[biteoffherhead]

Smell. Hear. And see, all at once.