The Lost Swinub

Times come and go.

There were ages past when the earth was moist and warm. Giant Pokémon ruled the earth, gorging themselves on the lush vegetation and enjoying the leisure of basking in the sun. Huge, fierce Magikarp and Gyarados were the rulers of the sea, wreaking terror amongst the denizens of the deep.

Then there were other times when it was cold, and glaciers ruled the land. At those times, many Pokémon were almost driven to extinction. It was a harsh time, yet for the Ice types, it was their short-lived time of glory. This is a story from one of those times.

Snow and sleet pelted the surface of the glacier. But the small, rotund Pokémon didn't mind the cold. What bothered it was that it could not see clearly in the storm. Anxiously seeking the safety of its mother and its den, it scolded itself for having lost its way.

"Swin! Swin!" it bleated, unsure of which way to go. It had to keep moving, lest it be buried and lost forever. Helpless and afraid, all it could do was to continue crying for help.

After hours of wandering in vain, daylight was beginning to fade. The storm gave no indication of easing. And with dusk would come its doom.

Was that something moving? It blinked the snow out of its eyes.

Yes! Gradually, it beheld a form congeal out of the white mess that was before it. Had its mother found it?

"Swin! Swin!" it tried to call louder but its voice was hoarse.

Alas, no, the form had the wrong shape. It was not a Piloswine. The little Swinub gave up hope and huddled itself together to await the end.

The Jynx moved gracefully, unbothered by the cold hell around it. It reached the helpless ball, now coated with ice, and embraced it.

The Jynx attempted to console the helpless young creature, but it struggled and refused comfort.

"Jyyynx!" it pleaded.

"Swin! Swin!" the Swinub replied. Had it not been so exhausted, it would have had the strength to escape the Jynx's grasp.

The Jynx was undaunted. It understood the poor little creature's fear. This was not the first time the experienced psychic had to rescue a frightened soul lost in a blizzard.

Knowing what to do, the Jynx bent down, brought its lips to the Swinub's cheek, and administered the treatment it knew best.

The Swinub's resistance diminished. The motherliness it was looking for, the comfort it sought, the feeling of safety it was after, they had somehow arrived after all. It could rest now, it could settle in perfect contentment.

A few moments later the Jynx picked up the dozing parcel and cradled it in its arms. For now it would take it back to its cave. Later, in the safety of the calm, it would see it home.