Chapter #4Is it really best to let sleeping Zebstrika lie? by: sneakyk  You fight your way forward through the field of towering grassblades, southbound. South, towards the fertile soil, where the farm's vegetables likely lie. At least, you hope that's where your headed. Given the veritable maze of grass that surrounds you, you're just as likely to be heading in random directions. Or an early grave. As you advance forward, you begin to briefly reconsider your actions. The growing vegetables may afford you with better sustenance than the grass-blades, and the soft soil could allow you to cover your body and hide, just like a worm might. The prospect of foraging on uncleaned vegetables straight from the soil and covering yourself in dirt isn't exactly enticing, but it beats waiting to get trampled upon in the field of grass. You grimace as you reflect on your thoughts. You're thinking in much the same way that a common bug might.
But isn't that exactly how you should be thinking? After all, bugs are better adapted to surviving at tiny scales than you are! But is this really the best path? If you do make it to the edge of the grasspatch, what are the chances that some hound might be waiting for you at the outskirts of the field of veggies, ready to convert you into his new favorite chewtoy?
As you are contemplating your actions, you begin to hear a distant rumbling. The rumbles are too prolonged, too constant to be those of hoofbeats. Could it be? A combine harvester? Your heart skips several beats at the thought of your tiny body getting swept up in the metallic teeth of a machine that's gargantuan even by...human...standards. You scramble forward along the grass, using the sounds of the approaching machine as a loose compass to guide your movements. You trip and scrape one of your knees as you rush through the underbrush. You fall onto your back twice, and several times you lose track of your direction. Yet to your surprise, the intensity of the rumbles does not increase. In fact, as you listen to it, you realize that it appears to be happening at a steady pulse. Whatever it is, it isn't approaching you.
Feeling frankly a little foolish for breaking into a panic over something that likely isn't even a threat, you decide to approach the source of the noise, curious as to what it is you were running from. You half hope it to be something worth running from, even if survival should be higher on your list of priorities than maintaining your pride.
As you draw closer to the source of the rumbling, you begin to feel the ground beneath your feet subtly quake. The noise becomes more clear, too...the rumbling seems to be a low, subdued groan, punctuated by powerful snorts. It takes you another moment to make out what it is... snoring. A snore that resembles the whinny of a horse. Realizing that it's likely safe to approach, you head straight for the source of the noise. The equine scent that meets your tiny nostrils as you draw near would be loud even if you were normal size, but at your tiny scale it is practically an aura. Yet you do not retreat, even as the snores begin to make the ground beneath you tremble enough to sporadically stagger you and to make your spine tingle in primal fear.
You at last make it before the gigantic beast that is the source of the noise. A wall of jet black fur, illuminated almost white by the brilliant light of the midday sun. Covering your ears from the reflective light, you gaze over to the side of the creature, and see that this illuminated fur is framed by actual white fur. It is the distinctive, almost artificial-looking, striped pattern of a Zebstrika. There's something almost surreal about it...the air is thick with animal odors, the Zebstrika, gargantuan, almost metaphorical for the raw power nature can hold... yet that fur pattern, those thunderbolt stripes...it's a design you might expected from a painted toy (or, perhaps, a painted war machine) rather than a creature.
You gasp at the scale of the gigantic zebra pokemon..at those thunderbolt-patterned stripes, at the shear scale of it. You weren't entirely off base, mistaking the creature's rumbling snores for the roaring of a combine's rotor blades. For after all, this creature certainly could, and probably has, devoured an entire forest's worth of grass blades in a single day. At least, relative to you. Standing at over 5 feet in height, and a good deal longer than it is tall, Zebstrika is a steed equipped to level a village on its own. A cantankerous breed if left untamed, you suspect this is the sort of horse that would not be reluctant to adding a bit of meat in its diet if hunger -or possibly even curiosity - demanded it. Thankfully the Zebstrika is likely not wanting for food... but what if it finds you to be a source of irritation or, worse, entertainment?
You walk beside the gigantic snoring stallion, still in awe of its scale. Its side is like a wall of fur. You have to crane your neck up to see over it. You begin to ponder how tall you are currently... and if you've somehow gotten smaller since your journey through the farm began. Three inches? Two inches? One? Given the circumstances, you're far more impressed with the enormity of the horse than you are interested in the specifics.
As you move about the snoring Zebstrika, you are half tempted to stroke at its fur. How would it feel? Would you be able to make contact with the Pokemon without waking it?
As you contemplate whether it is better to let the sleeping Zebstrika lie, you are suddenly shaken off your feet as it lets out two consecutive loud snores, a distinct change from its prior pattern. The creature's body is beginning to stir ever so slightly. It is on the cusp of waking up. It may well fall right back to sleep if undisturbed...or it may wake up regardless.
Would it be bad if the creature woke up? Would it be bad if it saw you? There are many unknowns here. You might be able to get a better view of the farm if you get on its back... or you might just anger it. And if you do get onto its back, which path will you take? The tail, or its side? You might be able to avoid a confrontation with it if you ran. Or you may wind up spotted anyway. Perhaps the underside of the creature would be safe? Perhaps it would be best if you got its attention right away.
Whatever the case...you have a decision to make.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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