By the time Ralts had made it back to the forest edge, twilight had well and truly fallen. The woods took upon themselves an ethereal haze, as the glow of the moon slowly became the only source of light. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, the psychic weaved through trees and shrubs towards home.

The Poochyena hunted most often at night, she knew. Their natural coal coloring and dark minds made the gloom a perfect hunting ground. Ralts bore this in mind most clearly as the sun faded entirely. Navigating the half remembered surroundings, she became acutely aware of every sound around her.

A third of the way there, she said to herself as time passed. The moon rose near its apex in the sky. A third more. A Taillow’s echoing shriek caused her to jump, terrified. She stilled, listening intently. When nothing further happened, she let loose her stilled breath.

A lone howl then echoed through the darkness, freezing the blood in her veins. Abandoning all subtlety, Ralts fled through the bush. Shadows jumped and twisted in the light as a feral chorus answered the first. Through this bush, jump the rocks, slide under the fallen tree. The cries sounded again, closer.

Ralts took fleeting glances at her surroundings as she passed through. The dim light made it hard to see, but her mind pieced flashes of familiar scenery together. This was… yes, she knew this place, she was so close! Making a hard turn left, she dashed with renewed vigor. Behind her, she heard a crash as her pursuers slammed into a thorny brush. She winced as the pained cries echoed behind her. This is not the time to feel pity, she told herself, and pushed further on.

Just a short time later, she saw a light flickering in the distance. The sounds of pursuit echoed behind her in frightening volume, and she put on that extra burst of speed as she dove through into the clearing beyond.

“What the-” A voice called, startled. The guard from earlier stood in the glow of a floating oil lamp, staring at her with wide eyes. His spear was pointing directly at her.

“Poochyena!” Ralts cried, skidding around his weapon and hiding behind him. “From the forest!”

“You- What!?” The Kirlia halted his half turn and returned his gaze to the woods beyond. The bushes rustled all around them. Ralts huddled closer to the guards side.

“You know,” he mentioned, eyes shifting back and forth. “When I said I’d protect you from the Poochyena, I didn’t exactly mean ‘Go out and find them.’”

“You’re lecturing me about this now!?”

“Might not get another chance.” He shifted his grip and lowered his lantern onto the ground. “Stay low, I’ll get us both out of here, alright?” The shadows danced eerily around the clearing. The wind picked up slightly, whistling through the canopy above. For a moment, there was calm.

From the left, a Poochyena exploded out of the shrubbery, thirty pounds of sharp teeth and fury. Kirlia spun around at once and smashed it to the ground with the haft of his spear. Pirouetting, he levered the mutt and flung him, intercepting another leaping dog in midair. He skid to a halt and stabbed at the third dog rushing down the center.

The dog dodged to the side, but yelped when the spear scored a gash along his body. Kirlia pulled back and stabbed again, but the Poochyena retreated, growling. Spinning, he caught the shaft in the snarling jaws of a recovered foe and with a heave slammed it down, narrowly ducking under the first Poochyenas attack.

Ralts watched in terrified awe as Kirlia spun and slashed at the dogs, barely managing to stay ahead of their ferocious attacks with skill and experience. Shaking, she reached out with her psychic power, searching for any way to help, but found that her efforts slid off the dogs like water.

But there had to be something. Sitting here, useless, powerless… A swell of fury rose within her. Again she threw a psychic blast at the hounds, again her efforts yielded nothing. Helpless, she watched as her guardian faltered, and received a gash to the arm for his mistake. Desperately, her eyes wandered the clearing for anything she could possibly do.

Kirlia panted as the dogs readied themselves for another assault. The Poochyena circled him, looking for an opening to exploit. He winced as fresh gashes on his arm pulsed, launching a fresh wave of pain. Sensing weakness, the hounds closed in from all sides, snarling and thrashing. Desperately, he warded off two of them with a wide sweep and caught the third in the leg, tripping it.

He jerked the spear backwards, jamming the haft into an adversarie's snarling maw. The Poochyena growled and snapped its jaw shut around the shaft and pulled away, almost yanking the tool out of Kirlia’s hands. He stumbled, falling to a knee. The other dogs rebounded and charged in from opposite sides. Panicked, Kirlia turned to his left and instinctively shot a blast of pure psychic energy at the incoming mutt. Ignoring it, both Poochyena darted forward, slavering. Raising an arm in guard, Kirlia braced for the pain.

He was rather startled when they were instead pelted with two rather large glowing rocks. He kicked the hound attached to his weapon once, twice, and finally knocked the beast off. Leaping backwards, he brandished his spear at the Poochyena once more, and glanced backward to whence the timely assistance had come. Face screwed in concentration, Ralts stood tall in the flickering lamp light. Around her orbited tens of stones, whirling and scraping against each other.

Kirlia paused, then broke out a wry grin. “Couldn’t have busted that out earlier?”

Ralts let out a low, annoyed keen, and a rock narrowly missed the guards head. A whine sounded as a dog was downed in mid-leap.

“Point made.” He noted.

Swinging around the haft, he slammed another hound to the dirt. Whirling, he slashed at the third foe which failed to dodge in time, leaving a seeping gash across its side. It was then hit by a stone. Hit by hit, slash by slash, the Poochyena were driven back. Any advancements made or tactics attempted, thwarted by a precisely slung piece of granite.

Finally, after an an age of combat, all of the Poochyena lay upon the ground, exhausted and bloodied. Kirlia, out of breath, watched them with spear at the ready. Slowly, the trio of aggressors climbed to their feet. Letting out a mournful howl, all three slinked off into the night.

Sighing with relief, the guardsman planted his spear into the ground and rested against it for a moment, before turning to his attention to his charge. Ralts had long released her orbiting ring and fell to her knees, gasping for air.

Kirlia staggered over and kneeled down. “You alright, there? It’s okay.” He laid a hand on her shoulder at her shuddering breaths. “It’s okay. We made it, eh?”

He was silent for a time, letting her regain her stamina. “First time using that much energy, huh? Didn’t even think you had that much in you, most younglings don’t. Really saved my butt there.” he added.

Ralts chucked weakly. “Had to… had to do something. Couldn’t sit and do no-nothing.” She coughed, mouth dry.

“Well, I’m glad you had my back. Not many would have started chucking rocks.” Gently, he turned her over and scooped her into his arms. With a bit of effort, he telekinetically lifted his spear and the lamp, which hovered behind him.

“C’mon,” he said, walking through the trees. “Your grandfather was worried.”

“Let’s go home.”