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Sojaveña Wilds Silver Riverside

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Seth only sniffed and shrugged to Wes' banter, but his eye stopped twitching, at least.

"Alright, truce on the nicknames," he muttered. "Wes."

He considered Wes' question, not answering at first. They were making progress towards town, and he began sniffing the air for strangers. Longer limbs made a fair difference in walking pace, and they'd be likely enough to come across townsfolk before long.

"I never saw a Celebi myself," he muttered. "Just a fancy rock that had something to do with it, and only as it was getting smashed to bits. And if there's a Celebi on Forlas, they'd probably be called the fuckin', Saint of Onions, or some shit. I don't know. Dunno that there's any point looking for 'em."

Seth had said himself that Celebi was considered a credible threat by Cipher in his world. So what did he mean by that? Perhaps that Celebi couldn't be found in so short a time as they had left. Perhaps that he didn't expect he could get the legendary pokémon to help if he did...
 
Wes snorted at Seth’s “Saint of Onions” joke. “Yeah, true. They’ve got different names for legends here. And I sure as hell don’t know the first thing about where to look for any specific one.”

Seth’s account, though, was an interesting one. “Wait, it was just a rock? How is that supposed to cure Shadows? Cipher really believed the stories enough to consider it a threat?”
 
Seth nodded. Shrugged. Spat in the shrubs to one side of them.

"Something about the rock having Celebi's power in it. The power to bring back memories of happy times, or whatever sappy shit it was. Whatever it was, Cipher seemed to think it could 'open the hearts' of Shadows. They had a bunch of notes in one of the bases I hit about trainers undoing the Shadowing with bonding and care and love and stuff."

Seth's dismissal of 'sappy shit' was very forced. The way he'd talked about his umbreon and espeon, he hadn't seemed like a detached trainer.

"Maybe they had other reasons. Rui was there. There were retired trainers with pokémon who could've stood up to Cipher. Making a statement. Testing their forces. Whatever the reason, they made sure to smash that rock up real good. Gone for good, now, I guess."
 
Wes mulled this over and nodded slowly. “We discovered some of that ourselves—the bonding and spending time with the mon, I mean. It’s been making them more stable over time, and even battling helps, though that one is a bit risky.”

Something else was eating at him, though. “You said it worked by bringing back memories, somehow? I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I buy any of that stuff—seems like it’s just old folklore and not much else. But even if it isn’t true, the fact that Cipher caught wind of it and felt it was big enough threat…that tells us something. About how they make Shadows.”

He glanced at Seth. “It means they mess with their memories, somehow. Erasing them or distorting them, maybe? Make them forget who they are?” Wes paused, then took a breath and blurted out his next question before he could change his mind.

“Seth. Do you remember what exactly they did to you?”
 
Seth grunted, and didn't reply at first. Just kept walking.

Then, when Wes may have been about to say something to break the silence, he let out a pained, sharp sigh. No Shadows, but clearly a lot of mental and emotional strain.

"Kinda. Don't want to, though. So maybe don't ask about it."

Wes might reasonably believe that this was an exceptionally polite and friendly way for Seth to put this particular request. Somehow, it was easy to imagine anyone else getting chewed out, or possibly just punched in the jaw.

"I'm not a fuckin' amnesiac, anyway," he added, with only the slightest tinge of doubt in his rough voice.

They'd be in town soon.
 
He’d fully expected Seth to bite his head off, at least figuratively if not literally. Yet the response was shockingly…civil. Seth sounded more tired than anything, and it struck Wes that the Wolf had already humored quite a lot of his questions for one day.

“Fair enough,” he said.

They walked on for a few minutes in silence, and Wes found himself not sure what else to say. Everything they had in common seemed to be exhausting and triggering for Seth—understandably so, though it left little room for idle chat, and that was something Wes had never been good at, to begin with.

At length, he finally asked, “So…do your vees have an ungodly obsession with bacon, or are mine just mental?”
 
Seth's mouth curved into a smile, that became a grin, and at last a sniggering guffaw.

"Buddy, I cannot buy enough rashers to sate those little fuckers," he said, through his laughter. "Can't really blame 'em, Orrean pokémon food being what it is. Does your espy annoy the shit outta your umbry, or did I just raise mine wrong?"

The two humans-turned-wolves could keep this up a while. Long enough to make it into town – and the Sanctum – and long enough to lighten Seth's shadowed heart. Whatever else was true about him, he definitely loved his pokémon.

Just like Wes did.

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