Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.

Summary: "I'll always wait for you, trainer." Ninetales, oneshot

Um, okay. I'm not even sure what this is. I just kind wanted to do a Pokemon-centric piece, and this is the first thing that came to mind. It's rather short, but I kinda like it. I hope that y'all do too!

The Echoing Future

Paws are silent against the forest floor.

There is a rush of wind, a bristling of fine ivory hair, and a glint of red eyes as the creature makes his way through the brush.

The very look of the fox is one of sadness, of desperation, one that would be enough to instill sorrow in anyone. Of course, the solitude of the place wouldn't allow it. There are only falling leaves the color of fire and the broken branches that sound a little too much like snapping bone when stepped on. The fox is graceful, never stopping in his quest, always searching and always waiting. No one knows why exactly the fox waits, but there must be an explanation somewhere.

There is a story around the town, one that recalls that of a bright and cheery trainer - a girl with bright red pigtails with an affinity for fire Pokemon. She went into the forest, one full of wild and upper level Pokemon, and never was seen again. The only thing that was found was her backpack, splattered with a fine mist of blood.

There were only five Pokemon in the pack. All were released into the very same forest where she vanished. The girl was an orphan, no parents to take in the trained Pokemon, nothing of that sort. It seemed to be the only option to the distressed townspeople.

Four of the Pokemon went in a group on their own way. They needed to get away from the forest, away from the place that stole their trainer.

One stayed.

The fiery girl's starter Pokemon, a Ninetales.

Once a shallow little Vulpix, now evolved into a creature with strength unmatched. Graceful and deadly in the same package.

However, the one purpose he has now is not to fight, but to search.

The fox Pokemon roams the forest. Time has passed, but no one has seen an inkling of age crease the fur of the Ninetales. The creature flits around the woods, constantly vigilant for some sign of his trainer.

Some say the distressed cry of the Ninetales can be heard even in the surrounding town. Always waiting, always looking, not wanting to admit that his trainer was a casualty in a world crueler than it is made out to be.

And still he searches.

They say Ninetales can live to be a thousand years old…

"I will always wait for you, trainer."