Traveling, though exciting, can lead to hardship. What's important is not giving up!
At least, that's what you had to keep reminding yourself.
Just before sundown, in the middle of the woods, a wild Beedrill swarm decided that they liked your tent so much, that they would rip it to shreds to chew it up and paste their nest together.
Shortly after, it began raining so hard that you could barely see. You stumbled through the wilderness, avoiding the pulverizing rainfall where you could.
After the rain stopped and some time trying to find the main path, you reached a clearing, closed off by a fence with an intricately filigreed "M" on the gate.
A grown-up courtyard, freshly misted by the rain, lay on the other side. Beyond the brush, still breathtaking in its chaos, was a mansion, presumably uninhabited.
All that was between you and shelter was the fence. Although not too tall, it was slick and intimidating; however, you had had enough of today.
You took the extra fabric from the tent that you brought with you, and wiped down the slippery rails. Now that the metal was somewhat drier, climbing over seemed an attainable goal.
With your feet hooked between the bars and your hands as high as you could reach, you began the ascent. You jumped up and grabbed the highest bar, then used your feet to inch up.
You continued the cycle of pulling yourself up and inching with your other half until you reached the top.
Trespassing! It kind of put you on edge. You balanced at the top of the rail of the fence in a squatted position with your back to the woods, contemplating how to get down.
You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard approaching footsteps. In a panic, you leaped down, and landed-- not on your feet, and definitely not in a graceful manner.
Murmured conversation. The gate creaked as it swung open. It was open the whole time?
Someone gently flipped you on your back, relieving the stress on your legs.
Satin gloves rubbed over your cheeks, and prompted you to open your eyes, no matter how much you wanted to keep them closed.
A tear rolled down as you did, and your gaze was met with eyes like cut emeralds, entrancing you.
"You're supposed to check on them, not make out with them! Scootch!" He was hip-checked by a woman with pink hair, who began feeling up and down your legs.
"It's just a sprain, I think. Otherwise, you'd be crying more."
You explained your trouble with your tent and the beedrill. The meowth accompanying the two spoke up, startling you, but you tried your best to hide it.
"Yeah, beedrill are total jerks. They just love showing off their agility by terrorizing whoever crosses their path!" You nodded, eyes wide.
The meowth spoke again. "What, meowth got your tongue? Ha!"
The girl with sweeping magenta hair spoke next. "Oh, shush. I'm Jessie, and that's Meowth.
Finally, the man with hair like lavender brushing over his shoulders introduced himself. "And I'm James. This is-- was my parents home." Your brows furrowed.
"Oh, they didn't like the location and had a new one built. It's about what you could expect for them. You can stay the night with us, though."
Meowth jumped up, placing his paws on his hips and asked, "Hey, who says you get to make these choices?"
Tonight would be interesting.
Jessie and James helped you inside and sat you down on the couch, still plush. The three all lit candles, and finished by starting up the fireplace.
Once cozy, each of you shared stories of your journeys until you fell asleep together.
The following morning, you all split paths, though Team Rocket would linger in your mind much longer.