An elite Shadow scout, sporting a brown cloak with a black and silver trim, was sitting silently in a bush. Overhead was his Pidgeot, circling around and watching the area for any movement.
Upon spotting the approaching trainer the Pidgeot let out two short cries, alerting the scout that someone was coming.
The scout watched carefully from his cover, waiting to see who was approaching.
A Pidgeot? Zether wondered, shading his eyes with one hand as he peered up at the bird circling high above in the distance. It was a little difficult to tell at that distance and with the sun in his eyes, but judging by the streamers flowing behind the bird’s head as it glided through the air, it seemed to be a Pidgeot. Unusual to see in the wild, considering how many wild Pidgeys didn’t live long enough to become Pidgeots, but not unheard of.
Perhaps the bird was looking for a prey to hunt. Whatever the case was, the Pidgeot alone wasn’t a big deal. What was were the two cries that had initially alerted him to the Pidgeot’s presence in the first place. One would just initially assume that the bird had simply found a suitable prey, but it didn’t seem to be going in for a kill, either.
With a shrug- Zether was probably just thinking too much about minor details again- he continued on his way, though with more apprehension and wariness. Mere paranoia or not, the wanderer would still rather be safe than sorry, and until he passed through this area without an incident, he would exercise some caution.
As he set off again, he forced himself to walk as a normal, even leisurely, pace, carefully measuring the steps he took.
//OOC: I cannot express how startling this title was for me when I first saw it immediately after reading some horror/suspense stories.//
The Pidgeot began to trail Zether from above, being sure to keep him in visual contact as it slowly circled round.
A grin came over the scout’s face when he saw Zether approach, chuckling to himself briefly as he waited for him to get a little closer.