Snippet #1825630

Songrose looked over herself impatiently. She had found a mirror that was broken, and was probably meant for the trash. No, this wasn't her at all. She only wished she could turn back into a human; go home and sleep in her own warm bed again, possibly arguing with her parents again about hanging out with the other kids. She could almost handle all of that now. She sighed and stood up, turning away to walk down the street again. No one seemed to notice her anymore. Even the Pokemon seemed too busy to notice her anymore. It only made her even more depressed to think about it. These Pokemon used to be her friends; now she seemed to just be some irritating being that wasn't worth paying attention to.

And no one else here seemed to be able to communicate with her, or even start to understand. She sat against a building, hanging her head. She was stuck like this, she was sure. If she couldn't find someone to help her, there was no way she'd turn human again. Even if she found the book, she wouldn't be able to speak it aloud. She was sure that had been the key to activating the spell. Her tails wrapped around her feet, keeping them warm against a sudden chilly wind. It wasn't really until then that she realized just how different she was from most other people here in the village. Had she seen a Pokemon looking as miserable as she felt, she'd have picked it up, taken it home, and taken care of it. But very few even looked at her, let alone offered to help her.

As the gust of wind died down, she stood back up, making her way towards the Pokemon Center. Most often, it was only used for people whose Pokemon had fallen ill, or had wandered off into the woods and been attacked, or a young Pokemon that had a small scratch, brought in by a small child who thought the scratch was a tragedy to happen to their Pokemon. Every now and then a trainer would pass through, though, and that was normally their first stop. There had been few trainers to pass through the village, and she doubted one owuld today, but she still found herself drawn to it. Maybe because she was a Pokemon now, and thought she'd find help there.

In any case, she sat outside the building, tails wrapped around her now wet paws; it had rained a few days before, and there were still puddles here and there. Her clumsiness had found her stumbling into a few of them, making her paws numb when another gust of cold wind blew through. She tried to dry her paws by licking at them, but gave up soon after a child stomped into a puddle nearby, making more than just her paws wet. Well, not she probably looked more like she felt. She let out a small, pathetic cry, more to complain than anything. She had stopped talking in general; the Pokemon didn't listen, and the people couldn't understand her. So what was the point? She lied down, covering herself as much as she could with her tails, leaving only her face exposed. She wanted to see what was going on and who was passing her, even if she couldn't get enough of their attention to get them to help her out.