Obvious exits:
North <N> leads to Old Macdonald's Farm.
South <S> leads to Overgrown Lands - Route 11: Off the Route.
West <W> leads to Field and Streams - Route 11: Orchards.
East <E> leads to Footbridge - Route 12: Junction.

Rix arrives from Field and Streams - Route 11: Orchards.
Rix has arrived.

The sky is grey and cloudy, and nothing casts a shadow. It's hot, humid, and still. In the forest, the deep green leaves of the trees are unstirred. While at the coast, the sea broods in the heat today under the dark and foreboding clouds.

The skies are dismal and grey, and the sun that so vividly lit up the earth only a day ago has hidden itself behind a blanket of clouds. The weather is nothing short of depressing, and it doesn't show any signs of letting up. Instead of getting cooler at the day rolls on, it seems to only get more muggy and hot, and irresponsible creatures of the world who procrastinated in their duties earlier today are paying hard for it now. Take Peppy the Growlithe, for example. The pup is practically slithering across the route, his head low, his eyes half closed, his bushy tail drooping so low it almost touches the ground. His fur is sticky and wet from the humidity, and his discomfort is evident in his snail-like pace and hanging tongue. Had Peppy done this but a few hours earlier, he would be long home by now, but nooooo, he just had to play *one* more game with the pups, have *one* more conversation with his mate, take *one* more nap. Predation sucks.

As the old adage goes, some like it hot. Though the weather is muggy and rather unpleasant, it would seem that there are a few pokemon out there that don't mind this one bit. In fact, one of them is headed this way. Skirting the path while playing a game of duck-and-weave, a playful Tigrynx scares up bug and bird pokemon so that she can give chase half heartedly and then give up. It seems to be a fun enough game to play while traveling. The humidity is thick in her bright orange coat and it seems to only puff the large feline out, doubling her size. One might think she were either pregnant or carrying a few extra pounds. "Rrrrynx!" she chortles as she marches onward, tongue lolling, indicating that she does indeed feel the heat. Then, there is a faint movement ahead. <Oh boy!> she whispers, lowering into the grass and weeds and slinking along on her belly at full stealth. <Gonna getcher!> she muses, claws slipping through the sand easily and kinked tail waggling. "Rrrrrrrrar!" she roars as she launches herself as if her body were tightly wound coils. The muscles in her flanks ripple powerfully and the air born feline pounces out of the brush with her claws splayed and her jaws agape, target not fully identified.

The sky is grey and cloudy, and nothing casts a shadow. It's hot, humid, and still.

Uff. This job would be so much easier if I could fly, Peppy thinks to himself, stopping for a brief second to pant up at the sky before continuing on his little journey. Walking is always hard, but it's particularly hard in sticky, muggy, yucky, hot weather like this. How can anybody stand it? Peppy is currently so wrapped up in his thoughts that he has absolutely no idea that somebody - somebody rather close - has determined his presence. Ignorantly marching on, Peppy doesn't suspect a thing until his keen hearing detects a little voice in the underbrush to his side. Coming to a halt, Peppy cocks his head as he peers at the bushes, woofing a curious, "Growli?" And then something dives out of the greenery, hurling itself through the air -right at him-!! "Liiiiiii!!" Peppy's eyes pretty much double in surprise, but by the time he can even take his first breath, the feline's claws have already no doubt pierced through his fur, her body slamming into him immediately afterwards. <Aaaaaaah!> Oomf! The force of the successful sneak attack will either send Peppy tumbling away or pin him to the ground, a way-too-hyper Tigrynx on top of him. The mighty hunter he is not.

Rix flies through the undergrowth and smacks straight into something a little larger than she thought she was headed for. With a hiss of surprise like a trod on Ekans, the feline plummets towards Peppy, most likely knocking him onto his side and pinning him down. The female is far from little, in fact, she is perhaps a touch oversize for a Tigrynx. Now flopped in the grass in a blur of orange and black, the female wails at her victim, <Hoooaaah! What have we here, ay?!> The feline inclines her head straight into the canine's fur, unperturbed and totally unafraid of him. Sniffing deeply, the feline's blazing green eyes widen and then she cuffs at the large firedog with a saucer size paw aimed at one of his ears. <If it isn't the pappa dog himself!> she purrs, slipping off him and sitting up straight and tall like a soldier, white teeth bared in a snaggle-toothed grin. This would be where humans would exchange a high five. The feline wrinkles her pink nose cutely as she grins down at the Growlithe. <You are a sloppy hunter. Mmm. Yes you are,> she states rather than saying a boring old 'hi'.

And what do you get when a slightly oversized Tigrynx tackles a slightly undersized Growlithe? A very helpless Growlithe. "Grrrrrrrrr!" Peppy manages, struggling and squeezing and wiggling and just generally trying to get out from under the larger pokemon. He fails miserably. <Get off! Hey! Get off! Don't eat me, just ge... g... huh?> As he peers up at the feline for the first time, his voice slowly trails off into something of a burble. Wow. She looks, smells, and sounds familiar. And she pounces random Growlithe passerbys, swatting at their ears and teasing them. This Tigrynx can be no other than <Rix?> Now, Peppy is horrible with names; it took him about two and a half weeks to finally remember -Aurora's- name, and a month or two for his puppies. The fact that he recalls Rix's name is a rather big honor. That, or the shock of being pounced fired off his recollection. As Rix hops off him, the Growlithe rolls over on his stomach, pushing up onto all fours, locking his eyes back onto the Tigrynx. <That kind of hurt,> he replies with a mutter, shaking his head briskly, plopping down on his rump to scratch at his side with a hind paw. <Like a lot.>

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

<Pish posh!> the feline retorts with a snotty little shake of her head and an ear twitch. <It will toughen you up. A little pain can help a lot,> she continues, bringing a paw up to her lips where it lingers there as she thinks. <How is old what's-her-name and fur balls?> the Tigrynx manages to spit through pinched lips, her expression sour. This could be because her friend gave priority to his mate, or perhaps because she lacked a family of her own. Rix then proceeds to wet her paw with a pink tongue and bathe casually, rubbing the large yet gentle paw over her face and ears. Her eyes are closed through this process, though she is expecting a reply and one viridian eye pops open to stare at him in a questioning manner, as if to say 'well?' Rix replaces her paw, straightens out again and blinks quite calmly at the flustered Peppy. It is probably a good thing for him that he did remember her name.

Were anybody else - even Navarone, perhaps - to refer to his darling family in that manner, they would likely receive a Flamethrower in the face and a tackle from a very angry, very jealous daddy. Rix, however, is something of an exception - a kind of pokemon Peppy can trust even through long periods of not seeing each other. As a result, the Growlithe only looks at the feline for a couple of moments, before relaxing his stance slightly, his tail wagging back and forth. <Aurora and the kids are great,> he woofs cheerfully enough. The depressed, mumbly Peppy has vanished with the pounce. Peppy's ear flickers once or twice before he continues, and he lowers his head slightly, as though to figure out why Rix's eyes are closed and if she's actually listening to him. <Um, really nice, Briska got a little hurt but now he's good, and they're big and healthy, and oh! Oh!> This gets him a little more hyper, as is suggesting by the rapid swishing of his tail. <They're almost going to start hunting! We have a babysitter and he's a really nice guy and all that's left is for me to... uh... take them out.> The spirit falters near the end, and the grin on Peppy's face has stretched into a more nervous one.

The Tigrynx seems a little over confident, especially with her chum, the Growlithe. Feline nature isn't wan to being demure and timid, after all. The Rixer gives a small stretching, arching her spine and then limbering out and ending with a yawn. Life is good being a single feline. You walk where you want, sleep where you want, eat what you want, talk to whom you want. Oh yeah, Peppy was addressing her. The Tigrynx turns her lamp like eyes back to Peppy, now standing in a relaxed fashion. Her ears twitch as she listens and takes in his tail wagging and her own tail twitches back and forth, urging her to keep walking. A quick glare is tossed over her back and the tail drops still. Then, his posture changes and her ears prick. Flopping to the ground and lounging on her side with a faint pant, the big cat eyes her friend. <Is it me, or is this not something you are looking forward to?> she asks, then tilts her head with a faints smirk and adds, <If I had cubs, I would love teaching them to hunt, mmm.> The feline squints her eyes closed again with a look of bliss on her face.

Kind of figures. The irony is so obvious that even Peppy can pick up on it; the one part he's dreading most about fatherhood is the one part that Rix would be best able to tolerate in her motherhood. <Huh?> Peppy woofs quickly in reply, jerking himself up into a more stiff position. His tail flies into an erect position, the shock rippling through his body evident. The thought of suggesting to Rix - even for just a second - that he's going to be a less-than-perfect father makes him considerably anxious. He must think he has something to prove to her. <Of course I'm looking forward to it,> he snaps, perhaps a little too defensively. He mentally whacks himself for being so crabby, and before Rix should be able to retort with a dry comment of her own, Peppy continues, <... Though that pounce you did on me was really good.> He's got an aching side and a pounding head to attest to that.

With thwack of her tail against the ground and a yawn, the feline doesn't bat an eyelash at Peppy's masculine display of pride. He is only protecting his ego and status, after all. Though, it is difficult to put something like his resistant and almost reluctant stance past the Tigrynx. She may not be old and wise, but she knows how to read body language. As a hunter, that is essential to her survival, as simple as that. The feline is playing mind games with her old friend. Showing him both warm friendship and trust, yet also displaying strength and dominance. Rolling onto her back and letting her paws hang in the air, the orange fuzz ball smiles up at Peppy, head tipping to the side in an almost detached nature. <Hunting isn't as natural to your kind, don't worry,> she informs him with a Cheshire grin. <Like my power pounce, eh? Good good, I've been working on it,> she affirms wiggling to fill her damp coat with sand.

Yeah, Rix definitely is throwing Peppy for a loop. Is she being friendly and nice, or tough and uncaring? The poor Growlithe really can't tell; he's really walking further into the conversation blindfolded. Peppy watches her submissive (or is it just playful?) rolling position with furrowed eyebrows, his tail swaying from side to side slowly. Eventually, he turns his head to the right. Nobody. He rotates it to the left. Nobody. Up. Nobody. Down. Nobody. All the way behind him. Nobody. There is nobody in sight other than him and the Tigrynx. Peppy takes one cautious step towards the feline. Another. One more. He leans forward towards Rix, concern evident in his green eye, which dance back and forth, as though somebody will manifest out of thin air. Rix's keen sense of hearing may be able to the detect that Peppy's breathing rate is surprisingly fast, as though he just ran a marathon. Did those three steps really take it out of him, or is it something else? Finally, summoning up all the courage he has, the male pokemon just barely manages to choke out his request. <... Could you... teach it to me?> The blow it deals him is considerable, and he moves downwind a step, squeezing one eye shut like somebody hit him with a newspaper.

The sky is grey and cloudy, and nothing casts a shadow. It's hot, humid, and still.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

The feline's paws curl over her belly involuntarily as the canine draws closer and she swivels her had to watch him carefully, black satin ears flipping backward in a hint of concern. She notes his labored breathing and the faint peak of interest attuned adrenaline in his stance and stiff movements. As she waits to see what will happen next, the Tigrynx braces, muscles tightening and claws unsheathing faintly. Was he foolish enough to attack her? Had she struck a nerve, perhaps? Green eyes wide as she looks up at him with nearly invisible black slits for pupils, Rix braces for impact. And the words hit her! <Can I what?> she chokes, blinking at him as if he just spit water at her. The feline flops back onto her side and looks up at him intently, nose not far from the canine's own. For a moment, she looks rather solemn, almost affronted, then, a slow grin forms on her face. The small fangs are bared fully to the light and Rix tosses her head back anc cackles with feline glee. <I can try, Peppy. I can try,> she tells him, resisting the urge to call him Growlithe. Enough with the rough love stuff. The Tigrynx punctuates he reply with a merry sneeze and squints happily at her pokefriend, slowly pulling herself to her feet and stretching once more.

The moment the words come pouring out of Peppy's mouth, he regrets even considering saying them. In Peppy's little world, he just said the equivalent of '<I'm weak and pathetic, unable to take care of my own children without outside help. Could you please come in and show me how to do a job I should have learned three years ago?> Needless to say, if Rix really is that good at reading body language and such, she's going to notice that Peppy's condition only declines as the seconds tick on, and it only perks up a bit - along with the Growlithe's ears and tail - when she agrees to be a teacher. <... Really?> he peeps up after a second, his voice rather small and timid, a very, very sharp contrast to the fake "me macho man!" attitude he was asserting earlier in the conversation. He quickly recovers himself to a more stern posture, and he nods sharply. <Thank you very much.> Now it gets awkward on the Growlithe's part, and he comes to a loss for words until Rix speaks up.

Rix listens to him and admires his changling nature. The feline sneezes a few more times in a dainty manner, unable to shrug off her amusement. Then, as if she suddenly put on a mask, the feline goes dead serious. <Canines are built differently. Hunt differently,> she begins instructing immediately, a rather serious look on her face and a dangerous pitch to her voice. <Felines stalk and pounce, canines are made to give chase. But, I can also teach you to pounce. Your body might not be as suited to it, however,> she states, allowing him to take in her appraisal. Know it all? Perhaps, but this feline's life revolves around hunting. Not just for food, but for sport. Now sitting up again, shoulders set back and head held high, the large orange cat studies Peppy, testing to see if this is something he really wants.

When Rix goes dead serious, Peppy stares blankly at her for a moment or two, before jolting up into a strict stance himself. Right, right, time to act serious. Not scared, not intimidated, not nervous, just serious. The Growlithe nods once or twice at every one of Rix's comments, even the ones that aren't particularly important. Even Peppy knows he's not all that great when it comes to absorbing knowledge, so he's putting all of his concentration into this lecture, little as that mental prowess may be. <It doesn't matter if I can't do it as well as you,> Peppy woofs when Rix is finished speaking, taking into full account the risk of interrupting her. <Even if our hunting styles are different, there's probably a lot in common. After all, the result is the same, right?> Wag, wag. Hey, Peppy actually made a point, even if it is considerably obvious and hardly worth mentioning. At least he's trying?

Nodding to herself and then him, Rix allows a faint smirk to cross her lips. The interruption only merits a swish of her tiny tail. <The result /should/ be the same,> she states, implying whatever he'd like to fill in there. <I'm planning on being around for a while. Wouldn't hurt to give you a few pointers,> she says with yet another all star grin. With that, the feline leaps aside into the grass and slinks off out of sight, careful to make as little noise as possible. After a moment, she leaps back in and bats at Peppy playfully. <Unfortunately, it is a warm day, hence your panting, and I am rather ready for a nap,> she states, attempting to lean in and lick the Growlithe's nose happily. The feline then settles back and raises a hind paw to scratch at a black collar that is mostly hidden in her furry ruff. <How about tomorrow? Is there a spare hay stack in the barn? I hear that it is a busy place lately,> she muses, walking away in the direction of the barn, tail waggleing.

Watt? July already? You must be 'lion! Bingo! (Saving!)

Peppy's mouth opens to reply to Rix's first comment, as though he has some input. No sound comes out, allowing the Tigrynx to move right along in her dialogue. The pup's mouth snaps shut, and he continues listening dumbly, only letting his tongue creep out to pant slightly. He's obviously not very aware of the fact that he's panting, for when Rix mentions it, he stops breathing for a second, his tongue flopping over lifelessly as he peers down at the scar on his muzzle, canting his head slightly. Now that he thinks about it... it is kind of hot, isn't it? <H-hey!> he woofs as she starts to walk towards the barn, jumping up to all four paws and scampering up to her. <You don't know the way! Lemme show it for ya!> Funnily enough, Rix is moving in the correct direction, and all she'd have to do would follow the little marked path that leads to the barn. It's not a particularly difficult task, despite Peppy's frantic woofs that suggest his navigational skills surpass the Tigrynx. (Ha.) And no doubt on the walk he'll make little inane comments, like how proud he is of his puppies, how much he (still!) loves his mate, maybe a little note here or there about how the Assisi Barn is where they first met, isn't it funny they're going back? And though he tries to keep his demeanor nice and tough, his walk stern and proud, his voice gruff and low, it's easy for anybody to see - Peppy is holding back the energetic puppy-like self inside of him, ecstatic to see his friend once again.