The sun is getting late in the sky; not much time left to meet Boc’s deadline; time to go to investigate at the watering hole…
As you make off to the path you set down just yesterday, someone shouts, “Lulu!”
Looking back, you see Maple; a doe your same age, a long-time friend, and just so happens to be Boc’s granddaughter. Maple was there when you watched your other friend, Sara, be killed by a pidgeotto. Maple is currently in a group of four, her friends - an odd group:
Koka, the doe, and Momo, the buck, are mates two years your senior. Momo is a gangly, tall buck and always wears a greasy smile. He is always checking out your ass and has no problems with you catching him in the process - often giving you a nod as if to say, “nice ass.” Koka is a squat, chubby doe who is quick to temper when insulted; but strangely, doesn’t mind her mate checking other doe out and in fact, seems to want her mate to be adulterous - and Momo doesn’t mind if she fucks around so long as she is not in heat, or so the rumors go. They are rude, crass, and vulgar; not afraid to make off-colored jokes, offend, or challenge authority. Their unkempt fur and rank smell only helps to further their undesirable status. And their pichu, of which they have two, are just as unpleasant and are hardly watched over by their parents - often picking fights or just being a general nuisance.
And the other guest in the group is Knot. That’s just his nickname, not his real name. Everyone just calls him that because he likes to tie knots in vines - a trick he claims he learned from humans; though what humans, no one is sure. He is four years your senior and has never been mated - not like Flik though. Flik at least shows some sexual interest if only in bucks, but no one can even recall Knot ever popping a boner at anything. He is a bruting, large buck who just spends most of his day, back against a tree looking out at the tribe with an almost pissed look, tying knots expertly without even looking - a thing he is doing just this moment. All the tribe’s females, including you, feel uneasy around him even though there is no history of him doing anything wrong. So most of the tribe just leaves him alone and pretends he isn’t even there - except for Koka, Momo, and Maple who are his only friends.
And Maple, your friend from the same pichu class, is the odd one out of the odd group. She is pretty, well kept, cheerful, and polite. Why such a nice doe hangs out with low-class, trashy members is unknown; and you’ve expressed your dislike of her friends multiple times, but she always dismisses it with a, “they aren’t that bad.” With that said, there is something odd about Maple; she was always super sweet and nice as a pichu - like she is as a pikachu - but after your friend being killed brutally in front of you, Maple’s compassion and cheerful demeanor seems cold and hollow like her soul has gone. You get the feeling that if she were to watch you or any loved one die, she would have no emotion or might even gain some sick pleasure from watching the event. It gives you chills being around her, especially when she responds to dark news without losing an ounce of chipperness. You guess Sara’s death affected you all in different but equally traumatic ways.
Maple trots up to you with her typically bright smile but soulless eyes and chirps “Hey! My grandpaps ask me to escort you to and from the watering hole. Ya know how he is; always suspicious of chus. But we can catch up on the way!” You head down the path with Maple, her chatting up a bubbly storm. You glance back at the odd group to find the all too familiar gaze of Momo trained on your voluptuous hindquarters, accompanied by his classic greasy smile and followed by the predictable head nod. You don’t know why - you should be disgusted - but as you turn your head and walk away, you reward his perverted gaze by flicking your tail up, rolling your hips back, and accentuating your hip sways just a little, so the pink pussy in between your legs is easy to see and jiggles with the sway. You don’t dwell on why you did that for long and move on as though it did not happen.
Maple talks you up down the path, asking questions about your adventures thus far. You tell her briefly but push past the conversation to ask more about Jet’s disappearance; the more information the better; she tells you she was there but only tangentially. She didn't even see the vulpix; she was with the group that helped take the other pichu home. Ultimately, you learn nothing notable or that you didn't know already…
Before long, you are at the watering hole. The sun is late in the sky and probably only half an hour before setting. Shit, you don't have much time. Looking around, the slowpoke is still sitting in the same exact spot as yesterday with the same exact dumb look upon its face. But otherwise, there is no other pokemon here - other than you and Maple.
Maple excuses herself, saying she still has a few things to do back home. But she'll be back at sundown to pick you up. She departs with a wave and wishes for good luck.
Like yesterday, you look at your options. Then ask yourself a few questions. Did Jet sneak off to the north path? Or did he swim out too far and get swept down the river? Or did the incident happen here? If that then you should probably inspect the brush around the clearing. Or maybe this slowpoke ate him.
Knowing what you learned from asking around the tribe, you make your decision.
