Every step felt like a risk, sending quiet burbling through Espeon's lightly-bloated belly and gradually increasing the urge to just let rip here and now... but he was slowly-but-surely getting close to the exit. Once he made his way out, there was nothing stopping him from ducking into some well-hidden alcove and "de-pressurizing" as loudly as he pleased while preserving his dignity. Unfortunately for the lovely, lilac-furred feline, fate threw him another curveball as another friendly face approached, eager to chat. This time, the one holding him up was a Luxio. He didn't particularly have time to chat at this point-- the Zigzagoon from earlier had already gotten him dangerously close to gassing the place with all the small-talk they'd dragged him into-- but... he could possibly buy a few minutes just so that he didn't seem rude by brushing off a conversation.
As the Electric-type came close, Espeon took a calculated risk, using Psychic to... ahem... bottle himself up, so to speak. It wasn't an ideal solution, of course. It didn't do anything to stop the indigestion that was causing him to be so gassy in the first place, and it required quite a bit of concentration to maintain, but he could keep it up for a good while... at least, that's what he thought. He took initiative in initiating conversation this time, starting off with, "Well, hello. You're certainly a friendly face, coming to talk to me out of the blue like this." The Luxio tilted their head and smiled, their tail swishing back and forth as they gave their reply. "Of course I'm going to talk to you-- you're new in town! Word spreads quickly, you know."
"Is that so? I'll have to keep that in mind before I get into any trouble!" the Eeveelution joked in response, giving a little chuckle. The Luxio seemed to find it kind of funny, too, but cattish curiosity soon took hold, and they inquired, "So, are you a lone explorer, or are you part of a team?" Once again, however, before Espeon could formulate a response, another cramp of a higher magnitude gripped his belly, an audible bubbling of protest sounding off from it and coaxing another uncomfortable groan from Espeon himself. His conversational partner, reasonably concerned, completely dropped their prior question in favor of, "Are... are you alright?"
Espeon's gas pains...
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