Successor
In the dusk of slowly settling night, Sapling Village was winding down. After a very recent tragedy, it wasn't quite the stirring hub of commerce it often enjoyed being, even at the peak hours of the day. Thus, not much of a crowd awaited a most familiar, monocle-wearing visitor as he approached on the path. There was only a somber silence which accompanied the orange glow of the setting sun through the surrounding trees. The mood wasn't lost on Shroomsworth, even though he'd just arrived. He shared their sense of loss.
With the elder gone, there was only one logical place to first make his return. Shroomsworth sighed to himself quietly as he trudged his way to the entrance of Sapling Library. Much like many of Tao's old buildings and all of the others in Sapling, there was no entry door, in favor of a draped archway. From under the drape, soft light emanated like an offered welcome. With that, the flimsy cloth was pushed aside as the Breloom peeked his way into the building proper.
The library's lobby was a cozy area, one that its caretakers often used as living space. There was adequate seating both with and without end tables, coffee tables, anything that could be needed between them and any number of visitors interested in their literature. Glowing, bulbous flowers, often strange to newcomers, grew from the walls like traditional sconces, freely giving off an adequate, faintly-blue light. Several feet from the entrance, the room expanded greatly into the library itself, with many books sorted for many tastes. That wasn't what interested Shroomsworth, though. In the middle of the comfortable lobby was a familiar face, forlornly buried into a book of some sort over one of the taller tables. She hadn't even noticed him yet.
“Ahem...” Shroomsworth cleared his throat to gain attention. He stepped all the way through the drape, allowing it to properly close behind his tail. The Roserade seated nearby perked up to notice him, and a smile came over her face. He could tell it was genuine... but it was anything but excited.
“Shroomsworth...” she called him by name. Arianna released the book from her viny grasp and pushed her seat back, standing from it. She quickly approached the gentleman standing in her library's doorway, stopping just short of him. “I wasn't entirely sure if you'd come right away... but I'm glad you did.”
“How could I not?” Shroomsworth replied, stepping further into the comfortable lobby. There were no belongings in tow other than his worn monocle, leaving him at a loss to do anything except approach the back of a chair and settle his claws upon it with a sigh. Arianna followed at his side, and he turned his head to look upon her. Seeing the sadness through her smile caused feelings of guilt to well up inside him. “I am sorry,” he spoke up after a moment of silence, averting his gaze once again. “I trusted her...”
“As did I,” Arianna replied without missing a beat, “but we can't dwell on that. It wasn't your fault any more than it was mine.”
Just then, Shroomsworth felt a single vine creep under his chin, gently coaxing him to look its owner in the eye once again. Her smile looked a little more welcoming than it did before. It certainly did the trick. After the intense feeling of betrayal he'd suffered before making his way westward, a genuinely friendly face from his childhood was much like applying salve to a wound.
“I'm simply happy that you showed up. I'm certain your siblings will be too,” Arianna assured in a calming tone. She then utilized the vines protruding from her flower-like hands to pull the nearest seat out from under the table. “Please, make yourself at home.”
So much time spent traveling made the offer all the more pleasing. A relieved sigh sounded from Shroomsworth as he let himself settle into the wooden chair. “Thank you,” he accepted graciously, wincing down toward his own feet once he was off them. Their combined ache made him wish he had simply taken Barty's air service, but the rather explosive consequences of his departure didn't exactly make room for the idea. No sense worrying about that now, he guessed.
Arianna let her smile fade somewhat as she walked around the table and returned to her seat, leaving Shroomsworth at the left side of the table from her. The book she had been reading was still in front of her, but she certainly didn't wish to go back to reading now that she had a most important guest. “I know you must be weary of the subject... but I'm sure you would like to know that the burial went along as planned.”
The news felt like a stab to Shroomsworth's heart, but it carried a feeling of closure with it. There were worse possible fates. Ones that made his skin crawl. “... I am glad nothing went wrong. To even think of those bone-yard scavengers finding him first, I... I can't bear it.”
“I made absolute sure we moved him as soon as possible. The worry was on my mind too...” Arianna admitted with concern. Her gaze averted to the book she had been reading prior, and she picked it up in her vines to accentuate its importance, “I had been studying the history of previous elders... most of them passed within the village itself, ensuring that they will be... prepared for burial, and then--”
“Miss Arianna!”
The gentlemanly Breloom stood quickly after his stern-sounding outburst, pushing his seat out behind him with the motion as he settled his clawed hands upon the wooden table. “I... ahem, pardon me for the interruption,” Shroomsworth apologized, shame in his voice over his own rudeness, “but I really must arrange some quarters for myself. I plan to reside in this village once more.” He really didn't know what came over him, but... he couldn't listen to more of that thought.
It was strange. Not once to Arianna's recollection had Shroomsworth ever outright interrupted someone like that. Her eyes averted until she heard of his plans, which brought her to smile once again. In light of confirmation that he would stay around, Arianna was willing to forget all about that minor faux pas. “I see... I can offer you spare quarters here, if you'd like.”
Though it was a nice gesture, Shroomsworth shook his head, stepping to the side and pushing his chair back in, “I will be quite fine with one of the caretakers' quarters in the hub, but thank you, dearest Arianna.”
With solemn understanding, Arianna nodded up at Shroomsworth. “I suppose that would be most comfortable for you. Perhaps on your way, you could pay your respects at the elder's grave before sundown,” she suggested, lifting her book to continue where she had left off.
The suggestion caused Shroomsworth to freeze for just a moment. “Quite...” was his only reply, low and somewhat unsure, as he made his way back out of the drape he had entered from, into the relative low, orange glow of the outdoors.
On the way across the unpopulated square of the village, Shroomsworth briefly pondered the suggestion he was given. Very briefly. Before he knew it, his feet had taken him to the front of the Shroomish Hub, a building he was very familiar with. It was once his home... he never thought he'd call it that again, but it wasn't a bad thing. He would have to tread carefully though – an early bedtime was something he remembered clearly from his childhood.
As Shroomsworth entered through the drape, he was greeted with the sight of many toys, desks, and other activities that his brothers enjoyed so much, basking in the glow of those same sorts of flowers found in the library and most other buildings. It always gave him a sense of accomplishment to remember that they were once making do with makeshift toys crudely made of leaves and wood, only to have him put actual funds toward importing well-crafted things. His funds went toward expanding the hub as well – a large bedroom, accessible by two draped archways across the room from the entrance, housed many beds, which were currently full of his slumbering siblings, if he had to guess. They previously had to slumber in the entry room, with all of their belongings.
There were two more bedrooms off to the sides of those. While designated caretakers often had their own dwellings to return home to, they would need to stick around at night to watch over the little ones. Sometimes there was more than one volunteer at a time, necessitating multiple private quarters to retreat to. Shroomsworth approached the arch leading to one of those very rooms, being as silent as he could. He was just about ready to peek inside, to see if a current caretaker was utilizing it. That's when he heard a most peculiar noise.
Sniffling.
That was a clear sign that they were awake, but what was wrong? Was it someone grieving? Shroomsworth felt that he should at least check on them, knowing that they were awake. He pushed the drape open to a nearly pitch-black room. The soft light from the central room shone in on the darkness, revealing his closest, tie-wearing brother seated on the room's relatively large bed, sobbing quietly to himself. “Sporegard..?” he called out, pushing his way into the room.
There was a segmented half-sphere covering on the wall with a handle in the middle. Shroomsworth reflexively turned it, causing the upper segment of the sphere to rotate so that it was cupped inside the lower one, releasing light into the room from a previously-enclosed flower. It was the village's light switch, so to speak, and it allowed Shroomsworth to see his brother gazing back at him. Though teary-eyed, it would seem that his presence warranted a smile.
“Brother!!” Sporegard exclaimed, though in a whispered tone that was mindful of the others sleeping nearby. Eagerly, the little Shroomish slipped from the edge of the bed and ran for Shroomsworth, making a very trustworthy leap toward him.
“Oof!” Shroomsworth exhaled as Sporegard impacted lightly against his stomach, though he still caught him in his arms and embraced him in a warm, brotherly hug. However, he immediately felt the stain of those wet tears against his body, accompanied by another sniffle. “Goodness, Sporegard...” he began, carrying his smaller brother back to the bed and sitting down on it himself, allowing Sporegard to rest on his knee. “I had certainly hoped to see you, but not so very sad. What is the matter?” he asked in the most calming manner he could.
“Oh... it's indefinitely nice of you to ask, brother,” Sporegard started, pausing only to sniffle, “I went to the elder's burialment ceremony, because Miss Arianna said it was respectful... but not all of our brothers and sisters went! I tried really hard to get them to go, because I want them to be respectable to the elder too... but they would not go. Then I got in trouble... for yelling.”
It was quite unlike his closest brother to shout at anyone. Still, Shroomsworth understood what it was all about, wearing his best comforting smile as he looked down upon Sporegard. “You must understand, not all of your brothers and sisters are as brave as you are...”
“But what does it have to do with bravery, brother?!” Sporegard replied, looking up through teary eyes. “It is not about that, it is about being respectable to the elder, right?”
The notions brought up by his smaller brother made Shroomsworth look away for a brief moment with nervousness. It was certainly not an easy subject. “Eheh... well, that is true. Still, you should not pressure them if they feel uncomfortable with going. Surely you know that all of your siblings, myself included, have the utmost respect for our elder. You may be shouting at them for things they cannot help.”
Sporegard looked down in thought. “I suppose that is true... I should apologize,” he concluded, hopping right off of Shroomsworth's lap and landing effortlessly on the floor below. He turned to face Shroomsworth, and a smile was crossing his face for the first time, though his eyes were still teary. “How long are you visiting for this time, brother?”
With a relieved sigh, Shroomsworth placed his claws together in his now-empty lap. “I am not visiting this time, dear Sporegard. Let us say you and I will be seeing a lot of each other from now on,” he hinted quite blatantly, with a wink through his monocle to match. A rather upbeat gesture for such hard times, but if anyone would bring good feelings out of him at this point, it would be his closest little brother.
It took a moment for Sporegard to get it, but when he did, his smile went from mild happiness to absolutely glowing. He even hopped in place with glee, though he did his best to refrain from making too much noise with the gesture. A curious look came over him once he stopped though. “What of the Merchants then? Are you not still working with Miss PK?”
Another question that felt difficult to answer... even though it wasn't. “She is responsible for...” Shroomsworth almost said outright, then paused. He gazed into his brother's curious eyes, and he just couldn't say it as he would to anyone else. “... she and I decided it would be best not to work together anymore. She is staying with the Merchants, and I am going to stay here, with you.” It was the best way he could think of to put it... though it was certainly not telling the whole story.
“Oh...” Sporegard acknowledged. His smile didn't return upon hearing that news. “She was ratherly fun to be around. Are you sure it is alright for you to leave and come here? It does not make you sad?” he asked with innocent curiosity.
Shroomsworth let his gaze lower to the floor as he became lost in thought. It certainly was regrettable that everything turned out this way. He soon returned his eyes upon Sporegard, and a pleasant smile crossed his face. “There could be nothing more 'alright' than spending more time with you and the rest of our family. Please, worry not and let us get some rest.”
Those were some reassuring words for certain. Ones that returned the smile to Sporegard's face. “Very well! I am feeling incredulously better now, so I am going back to my bed. Good night, brother!” he whispered, seemingly in a much better mood as he waddled through the arch drape.
Alone again, though at least with a proper bed to rest his weary bones on once he settled his monocle upon the nearby table. It felt so physically pleasing to roll back onto the cushioned surface, to pull the smooth, pleasant sheets over himself. Shroomsworth had finally found proper rest after having so little ever since Sorbet's rampage. He'd sent his brother to bed feeling uplifted, but as the side of his face nestled against the pillow, he found himself gently pulling it to cover his eyes. In spite of his earlier stoic manner, it was dampened with tears until he could find the peace of mind to sleep.
For all that went wrong, for all that felt wrong, it was at the very least a peaceful night's slumber. It was only nearing sunrise that a commotion rang out from the rest of the hub, stirring Shroomsworth from his rest. Groggily, he eased himself up to sit at the side and rubbed his half-lidded eyes. Like he'd done many times before, he reached to the side without looking to grasp his monocle, but had to adjust his reach somewhat to account for the different room and thus, different furniture. With ease, he attached it and settled it upon his face, only to have it nearly startled off of him as he heard shouting.
“Let me go!” a familiar, youthful voice rang out.
“Look at that bag of goods he's already pilfered. What a little sneak! Planning to take some Shroomish eggs next, hm?” another voice followed. Another familiar one.
Whatever it was, it required his attention. Shroomsworth reared back from his seat and hastily sprung to his feet. Once upright, he noticed that he had left the light cover off. It hadn't interrupted his sleep at all, after how utterly exhausted he was, but he still remembered to slide it closed on his way out into the hub.
Within that large room, many of the Shroomish had awakened already. That wasn't so odd. Early to bed, early to rise, and all that rot. The Serperior in the middle of the room throttling his coils around a Sneasel? That was odd. The Shroomish were gathered around the occurrence. Some were frightened, others almost seemed happy, likely thinking the act was deserved. There was also a strange sack near the two. It was easy to infer that it must have been carried by the Sneasel.
As the smaller Sneasel struggled in the Serperior's grip, the green snake wore a righteous scowl. “What do you say, kids? Send him back featherless and with a mouthful of soap instead of eggs? he suggested in a playful, yet grim manner. It was met with several of the Shroomish around the room cheering aloud.
The Sneasel, clad in a green scarf, shook his head briskly and pleaded up at the snake, “I'm not here to steal anything! Please, let go!”
“Ginko! Let that boy go!” Shroomsworth intervened, marching right up to the scene. Everyone regarded him with some degree of surprise, except for Sporegard.
“Shroomsworth?!” the Serperior responded in kind, though he kept his captive in his grasp. His eyes darted back to the captive Sneasel with confusion, then to Shroomsworth again. “Are you sure? You know what they've done before!”
With a sigh, Shroomsworth rested his face in one of his claws. “Yes, he is one of mine from the guild,” he explained. That was enough to convince his friend to release the Sneasel, who he promptly approached to place his claw upon his shoulder. He appeared somewhat distraught; understandably so, given what had just happened to him. “Rhodes, dear boy, are you alright?”
“Yeah...” Rhodes answered, sputtering a minor cough in the process. He turned and crouched to pick up the simple sack he had dropped before, looking up at Shroomsworth and offering it to him in his claws. “Miss PK told me to bring you your stuff. Like... mostly tea stuff. I was real careful 'til now, but I don't think I heard 'em break!” he added, throwing in an optimistic smile at the end.
“Eugh...” Ginko chimed in, worrying at his own mistake, “... uh, sorry about that, little guy... I'm supposed to be looking out for these little guys.” He extended a grassy vine from just under his gold-adorned neck area, gesturing to the many Shroomish in the room. They were varying degrees of confused and perhaps still worried over the presence of a Sneasel.
The apology grabbed Rhodes's attention as Shroomsworth accepted the belongings from him. He turned to the larger snake, still a little tense after their run-in. “... It's okay...” he forgave, though his averted gaze and unsure tone were quite apparent.
Inside the sack given to Shroomsworth was indeed what Rhodes mentioned... though he grimaced at the contents. Some dishes were cracked or chipped, but if the Sneasel's words were true, then it must have been out of his power to do anything about it. At least most were intact, and his spare monocles were there too. His claw reached in to shuffle things aside, looking for something in particular... then he found it. One of the monocles within was a little more crude than the others. The frame was just a little smaller, and the string attached was a bit simpler than the rest. It brought on a relieved smile.
“Oh wow..!”
Once again, Ginko spoke up. He slithered close to Shroomsworth and leaned in, gazing upon that specific monocle with interest. “You don't wear that one anymore?”
“Not really, no,” Shroomsworth replied, carefully cradling his childhood eyewear in his claws as he looked down at it. A little dusty, but not a scratch otherwise. Very lucky. “It is a little more difficult to keep on due to its size... but even then, I would never want it to be broken or misplaced.” As he placed it back with the rest of his things, he added, “I had worried something might have happened to it.”
Knowing that he'd brought something so important seemed to make Rhodes happy again. He approached Shroomsworth, no longer wary of the snake that had been throttling him minutes before. “What are you gonna do now that you have your stuff back, Mister Shroomsworth?”
As he carefully toted the sack of goods to the room he had slept in, he considered his options. “Hmm...” he sounded out while pushing the drape aside, setting his belongings just inside the room. He'd arrange them later. He then turned back to Rhodes with a most upbeat smile. “Since you are here, why not accompany me to the Commerce Mushroom?”
From the crowd of Shroomish, Sporegard bounded forth excitedly, settling right next to Rhodes as he looked up at Shroomsworth, “I wish to go too!” He then turned around, gazing at Ginko expectantly, “Please, Mister Ginko, may I go?”
Ginko looked down upon Sporegard briefly before cracking a smile. He shot a temporary glance at Shroomsworth, who was smirking with amusement right with him. “Alright! Truthfully, I'd like to go with you and catch up with my old buddy, but the children do need watching over.”
“Splendid! We can 'catch up' in due time, my good fellow,” Shroomsworth answered as his little brother was already excitedly making his way outside. With a wave of his claw, the Breloom bid farewell to Ginko for the time being, and exited the Hub alongside Rhodes.
Outside, things felt a little less dreary than they did the evening prior. Villagers were making their ways around for this and that. The sky was mildly overcast, making the morning a little darker than usual, but nothing that would stop anyone from getting on with their lives. Most were, as usual, coming to or going from the Commerce Mushroom, and that's where the three would be heading. With Sporegard and Rhodes on either side of him, Shroomsworth made his way there. Soon enough, that huge, familiar arch stood before them, beckoning them to enter the village's enclosed market.
What seemed like, though couldn't have been, scores of stands, booths, and even some enclosures stood before him, separated down the middle by a single, mossy path, marked on either side by rows of various mushrooms. At the far end of expansive holding was what appeared to be an indoor fountain, yet its rocky, natural look suggested that it must have indeed been natural. Behind it stood a constructed wooden wall that effectively enclosed a good portion of whatever stood behind the fountain. From the top of it all hung several giant, glowing flower bulbs, always casting adequate light upon the many Pokemon below regardless of the time of day outside. A curiosity to a newcomer would be that one side of the path had wooden booths completely run by grass-type Pokemon, while the other was much more diverse in both Pokemon and the styles of their stands.
Shroomsworth was proud to have spent much of his life here. He peeked over his shoulder and grinned when he found the young Sneasel marveling at the sight. Further in he went, with the two trailing closely behind him. “It is wonderful, is it not?” he began, gesturing with his claws as he went. “Our local market operates on one side, while we let foreigners operate on the other. They sell their wares, and often partake of ours!”
As the Breloom led the two younger Pokemon through the main path, many stalls were just setting up for the day. From both sides, local and foreign, Pokemon were putting up wares. Foodstuffs from raw ingredients to freshly prepared goods, souvenirs of various sorts, medicinal supplies, toys; the selection was surprisingly vast for such a humble village!
Eventually, they came to a single, wooden stall at the far end of it all. Its sign simply read 'Berries', with a crude painting of assorted berries to the side, obscured by a hanging placard that read 'CLOSED'. It gave Shroomsworth a nostalgic feeling to gaze upon this, his old stall. The place where he started it all. It was big enough for your average medium-sized Pokemon, so he always had to stand on a small wooden block just to see over the counter. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself when he stepped around just to see that it was still there, tucked under the stall with a batch of berries. Others had likely been using the stall on some days, but there were other, more convenient ones that sold the same thing by now.
It was obsolete, but it was his favorite. It just wouldn't do for it to go unmanned while he was around. “Fellows?” Shroomsworth began, stepping up to the counter and placing his claws upon it. It felt so strange to be the proper height. Rhodes and Sporegard stood before him on the opposite end of the stand, and he simply smiled at them,”I think I will commandeer my old post, so to speak, to warm up to being here once more. What say you two be my helpers for the day, hm?”
“Of course, brother!” Sporegard spoke up excitedly. “What shall I do?”
“You have a very important task, Sporegard!” Shroomsworth said with such confidence. Though... he didn't quite have an idea of what task that would be. At least, until he glanced under the stall. There was quite an assortment of berries stowed away in various sacks. Right away, he knew what needed to be done. “You know where the other berry stalls are, yes? Do see what they have on display, so that we may show off something they do not.”
“Oh, smashing idea!” The little Shroomish, with all of the excitement of a well-mannered child, immediately waddled off among the other stalls.
With his brother off on his task, Shroomsworth was left with Rhodes. The young Sneasel had been rather silent, and appeared distant at a glance. As he reached up to pluck the closing placard from the stall, he decided to speak up to break the odd silence, “Something on your mind, dear boy?”
Rhodes didn't exactly snap to attention as though he weren't paying any of it prior. Instead, he glanced up at the Breloom and nodded, “Yeah... Mr. Shroomsworth, I have a question!” Showing a bit less regard for manners than he likely should have, the Sneasel hopped over the front of the stall, letting his legs dangle off the side as he used it as a seat. “Is your brother really a kid..?”
That was out of left field. Shroomsworth was so taken aback that the placard slid out of his claws, harmlessly dropping onto the counter-top. “That's... quite a question. Why do you ask?”
“Well... that guy called all the Shroomish kids, right? Sporegard acts like a kid too, but... somethin' feels different. Maybe he just sounds a li'l older, I dunno...” Rhodes shied away from his explanation and twiddled his claws together the more he went through it, realizing it might be insensitive.
While the truth of the matter wasn't pretty, Shroomsworth couldn't help but smile weakly. “You are actually quite perceptive! Sporegard is, in fact, older than you are,” he admitted, following up with a displeased sigh. “As it turns out, age is not a factor in determining the perceived youth of Shroomish in this village... they are almost all children in the eyes of the other Pokemon who live here.”
“Really..? Why?” Rhodes asked with genuine curiosity.
It was actually a little strange for Shroomsworth to have to explain his village's ways. It was usually a thing best left to Arianna and her scholarly interests, but if Rhodes of all people wanted to know, he could at least summarize. “It is a most interesting traditional thing! As far back as this village's roots take it, Shroomish resided here even longer still. However...” Shroomsworth paused to sigh, gazing down at the aged wooden surface of his stall, “... early texts suggest that they were very simple-minded.”
Apparently very interested, Rhodes turned to more comfortably face Shroomsworth and nodded, hugging his legs to himself rather than letting them dangle.
“The early villagers took them in out of their respect for the forest, seeing as the Shroomish were part of it too. They began teaching them.” After a brief pause, Shroomsworth smiled once again, “Miss Arianna suggests that many of our charitable traditions come from generations of this relationship between the Shroomish and the other villagers. In a way, we were very important to shaping the future, despite unflattering beginnings in history!”
While he was obviously a little confused, Rhodes tilted his head with curiosity, prompting a brief bounce in his head-feather. “So when do they get to grow up?”
“That is a good question!” Shroomsworth praised, leaning both of his claws upon the surprisingly sturdy surface before him. “Our elder decides that. At their discretion, they may make it some sort of test, or a reward for one who excels, ah-haha!”
“Wow... it sounds kinda hard to have to do some kinda test to grow up!” Rhodes remarked with amusement. “What'd you hafta do? Sell a whole buncha stuff?”
While trying to quickly find an answer to that question in his head, Shroomsworth tapped his claws upon the sturdy stall before him and averted his eyes. It wasn't really as simple of a story as many might have guessed. “Ahh... oh dear. Well, you see...”
In perhaps the only instance where stalling for time by drawing out a sentence would work, a rather questionable savior turned up. A large, purple form waded through the foreign trade stalls, headed straight for Shroomsworth. “Look who it is!” it called out in a deep, rumbling, yet jovial voice. A Nidoking's large, plated form stepped out over the middle path on his approach. Around his shoulders hung a long, simple, and well-kept cloth draped over the back of his neck that flowed down his chest. It displayed an array of randomly-arranged colors dyed over it, doing wonders toward making the large Pokemon appear as non-threatening as possible.
Despite the welcome interruption, Shroomsworth still couldn't help but breathe a low-profile sigh of dismay. The lumbering poison-type Pokemon approached the other side of his stall, only to hold up what appeared to be, by all respects, a blue rubber ball with a crude happy face on it. It might as well have just been a toy. However, given who this was, Shroomsworth knew it couldn't be that simple, and looked upon it with skepticism. “... What is it?”
“I heard you were back, and I knew you'd like to see some of my hot new products since you've been gone!” the Nidoking asserted before giving the ball a squeeze. Though he apparently put much strength into it, the ball's form only distorted to a minor degree. “I call it a 'happy ball'! You squeeze it, and the exertion pulls all the unhappy toxins out of your body 'til you're happy again!” he proudly explained, looking down upon Shroomsworth with a grin.
It was rather difficult for Shroomsworth to hide how unimpressed he was, especially as the ball was squeezed once more in front of his face, producing a mild squeaking noise. Eventually, he brought one of his palms up to rub one of his cheeks, feeling within them the minor burn of being embarrassed for another living being. “Tell me, Trudeau... how many of these have you sold?”
Just before Trudeau answered, Rhodes reached out and grasped the ball, which he was allowed to hold and squeeze with the dull bases of his claws for the time being. The Nidoking didn't appear to be stingy with his merchandise. “Not many yet – mostly foreign visitors from Alomomola.”
“Oh, thank goodness...” Shroomsworth muttered under his breath. The last thing he needed to hear was that his village was buying into this.
“That's always the story...” Trudeau went on dejectedly, “... I don't know how to reach out to the villagers here about cleansing their bodies, you know? I thought maybe something they didn't have to eat would work...”
“Maybe you should sell it like a toy? It's a nice ball!” Rhodes interjected, smiling up to the Nidoking as he tossed the happy-faced ball as such that it bounced once upon the stall before Trudeau could grasp it.
“Oh, I can't do that. It would be dishonest to call it a toy if it's medicinal!”
Much like several times in the past, Shroomsworth bit his tongue, but he was thinking it very heavily.
Luckily, it was all over as the Nidoking lumbered around, careful of his tail's potentially wrecking sway as he returned from whence he came, weaving through booths harmlessly. “I'll think of something and get back to you. Welcome back to the village and all that stuff!”
As far back as his earlier youth, Shroomsworth recalled that Nidoking. The fellow approached him one day and simply started showing off his wares, all designed to cure some sort of ailment that Shroomsworth had never heard of, or remove 'toxins'. Did everyone contain toxins? He wasn't sure, but it kept happening, and dealing with those run-ins over the years had made him a little weary of it.
As luck would have it, Sporegard returned shortly after that moment, having missed the entire spectacle. He shared his knowledge, and in but a few minutes, the stall was set with its own assortment of berries on display. Sure enough, there were customers in an out within the hour, and for much of the time following. However, there weren't quite as many as in times past. The recent issues in the region had only just subsided, after all. When daylight was winding down, Shroomsworth's humble stall had still managed to turn a profit. With a sizable sack of coin in hand, he placed the 'CLOSED' sign once more when nearing nightfall and made his way to that peculiar enclosed area behind the fountain.
