Imagine for a moment, if you will, the world of Pokemon. That sprawling fictional universe, depicted and expanded upon throughout the years by countless games, shows, stories, and all other manner of media.

What do you think of?

A world of extraordinary creatures and fantastical lands, where excitement is said to await around every corner?

A world where humans live in harmony with hundreds of other species, their every path of life affected in countless ways by this world-spanning partnership?

A world where myths and legends come to life, and the gods themselves walk the planet?

...or, perhaps, the world that you are now apparently in, for reasons as of yet completely unknown to you.

Like me.

I push my way past a bush, looking around in search of the symbol I carved into one of the trees when I passed by earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a simple "X", but I've found that it's far too easy to get lost around here without marking the way I came in some fashion. I do wonder if I wouldn't be better off if I wasn't wandering around so much, but staying in one place doesn't get me anywhere, and I'd like to at least try to get the lay of the surrounding land, futile as that is proving to be thus far.

Eventually spotting the tree I'm looking for, I move over to it and immediately start looking for the next one. The next few thankfully turn out to be close enough together that I don't have to search too hard to find them, allowing me the concentration to think back and silently reflect on what my life has been like as of late.

I've been here for about a week now, I think. In that time, I still have yet to come up with a decent explanation regarding how or why that might be. One does not typically wake up in an entirely different universe than the one they went to sleep in after all, much less one previously thought to be wholly fictitious. It's not as though I did anything that could have somehow caused this, at least so far as I recall — hell, the most interesting thing I did that night was fall unconscious, which, as the generally expected result when attempting to fall asleep, doesn't strike me as particularly unusual. Overall, there was nothing notably different about it from any other night.

...but then I woke up, and found myself lying in a patch of dirt, situated in the middle of a freaking forest. One that I quickly discovered to be inhabited by creatures I never once thought I'd see walking around in reality, because the world that they originate from isn't supposed to be real.

At first, I kind of figured I was just dreaming, and was honestly pretty thrilled at finally having managed proper lucidity within one. Evidence started mounting against that theory pretty quickly however, and at this point, I've been here for far too long to continue hoping that I'm actually still just asleep and having the most vivid dream of my entire life. No, seems this just IS my life now — cast into another world, dumped in the middle of some random woodland, left to try and figure things out completely on my own-

Too lost in my mental rant to notice where I'm walking, I accidentally trip over a small root poking up out of the grass. Letting out a high-pitched cry of surprise, I go sprawling head over mini hakama pants, my giant jaw-shaped horns flipping over my eyes and smashing into a nearby tree. Dazed, I let myself just lie there for a moment, the tiny claws of my three-fingered hands digging ever so slightly into the dirt.

...and oh yeah: for some reason, I'm now a Mawile.

Aren't I lucky?

Slightly scuffed, but largely unhurt from my sudden pratfall, I stand back up, using my horns as a counterbalance to lever myself to my feet. This regrettably does not elevate my point of view by all that much, as I now stand at a positively minuscule two feet tall. Maybe a little more than that? It's difficult to tell without any way to properly measure myself, but the fact remains that I'm now short as hell. It's not like I was exactly a giant before this, and in fact I would have preferred to be a little shorter even then, but this is too much by an order of magnitude. I'd like my growth spurt back, please!

Taking a moment to brush my fur off of the worst of the dirt I just faceplanted in, I resume following my trail of marked trees back towards what I've been treating as my home base for the past couple of days. Mind, "home base" in this scenario is little more than a cluster of relatively large rocks that I shoved together into the rough shape of a tiny room and then stuck a thin covering of leaves over top of, but it's still a better place to sleep than the inside of a bush, or underneath a random tree, like I did for the first few days.

...in case it wasn't already obvious, being a Mawile has not been a particularly charmed life thus far.

Don't get me wrong: whatever the cause of this, there are certainly worse things I could have ended up as. I mean, at least I still have limbs, and actually functional ones at that. That may sound like an absurdly low bar to clear, but it isn't something that can be said of a ridiculous number of other Pokemon — I shudder to think how much worse this would be if I had woken up here as, say, a Shellos, or a Voltorb, or (god forbid) a Dunsparce. Not to mention there's a whole plethora of Pokemon out there that don't have any real means of locomotion, period. Compared to them, I suppose I actually DID luck out... though, I feel rather pathetic to be considering "having working arms and legs" as a stroke of good fortune.

On a more legitimate and considerably less pitiful-sounding bright side, my typing as a Mawile is genuinely amazing. Being part-steel and part-fairy makes me innately resistant to more than half of all attack types, and outright immune to two others. In a world where elemental rock-paper-scissors rules ultimately dictate the outcome of a huge variety of scenarios, that's a massive advantage, the importance of which cannot be overstated. In that regard, at least, I have absolutely nothing to complain about.

...the problem is, those natural resistances are pretty much the only thing that Mawile have going for them. Not only are they barely a third of a normal person's size, their base stats are fairly low, and (to my admittedly-limited recollection) there aren't a lot of useful moves that they learn naturally. In other words, unless I can somehow reverse this, I'm most likely doomed to be a tiny, relative weakling in the Pokemon pecking order for as long as I'm trapped in this world. Which is seeming increasingly likely to be "forever", given my total lack of clues as to how any of this happened to begin with.

My jaws tighten, grinding against each other in response to my silent annoyance. It just seems so unfair. If I have to be a Pokemon now, why I couldn't I at least be one whose potential for growth — from both a figurative and literal standpoint — isn't so heavily limited right from the outset? I can't even hold out hope of that one day maybe changing, because in addition to being weak, Mawile are also a single-stage Pokemon. Sure, they technically have a mega evolution, but not only is that state a temporary one, it would be nearly impossible for me to attain due to requiring not just the appropriate mega stone, but also a key stone, and (most crucially) a trainer. None of which I have, and the latter of which I don't even want... but with that possibility eliminated, my only remaining choice is to do the best I can with what I've got. Which, sadly, isn't much.

I stop for a moment, having suddenly spotted what I'm pretty sure is an Oran bush just a few meters away from my tree path. I must have somehow missed it the first time I passed through here. Oh please, let this one have not already been picked clean!

I make my way over to the bush, hoping against hope to find something there, but am disheartened to find that my worries were in fact well-founded. A brief inspection of the greenery turns up little but hard, tiny buds, inedible in their current state. Any berries that may have hung here earlier are long gone by now, leaving nothing of any worth to me.

Grimacing, I turn back around, my stomach growling at me discontentedly. This has not been a good day so far... in fact, it's this sort of situation that makes me wonder if I actually should deliberately try to get myself caught, which I admit I've found myself considering more than once now. After all, I'd presumably at least have food provided for me, and thus wouldn't have to spend so much time just trying to find some like I've been doing for most of the morning now. It would probably be a lot less dangerous than staying out in the wild like I currently am as well, and likely a lot more comfortable to boot. From a logical standpoint, there are genuinely a lot of upsides to the idea.

I sigh internally. Still, I can't help but feel that letting myself get caught would be too akin to letting my fate be determined essentially by lottery. Throwing myself into some random person's care and just hoping everything works out would be a huge gamble, especially when most people are more likely to see me as a pet now than a person. Not to mention there's a distinct possibility of being mistreated or abused as well, and the idea of having someone literally own me is already distasteful enough without adding that on top of it. I just can't bring myself to risk it...

My grimace deepens into an outright scowl. Not that I could currently go offer myself up for capture even if I wanted to, as I've still yet to find an exit to this godforsaken forest. You'd really think "pick a direction and walk until you're no longer surrounded by trees" would be a pretty simple plan to carry out, but that idea has already failed me three times thus far, so evidently no, it's not that easy. I don't know if it's because I cover so much less ground in a given time now, or because there's just something about this forest that makes it extra difficult to navigate, but suffice to say, there's more than one reason I've taken to leaving X's everywhere I go.

Speaking of which, a quick look around brings me to the rapid realization that I don't see my next mark anywhere. Shoot, which direction was it? I don't think I turned around at any point while coming this way, did I?

I spin around in a circle, trying not to lose track of where I just came from in the process, but failing to see where to go next. Argh, I hate when this happens. I can't go crazy with the X's, or they quickly become all but useless for pathfinding, but if I don't make enough, I end up stuck in place for at least a short while, and have to systematically check every tree in the vicinity until I finally figure out where I'm going again. I really need to find a better method of navigation...

After a couple of minutes, I manage to find my lost tree — turns out I made the mark too low on the bark, and it ended up getting obscured by some tall grass. I drag the upper teeth of my horns against the side of the tree to make another one, slightly higher up this time, then get myself back on track again, hoping I'm getting close to my base at this point.

At the risk of repeating myself, I seriously do need to figure out a better way of finding my way through this forest. Not just because my current way is unreliable, and probably unsustainable in the long run, but because if I keep making glorified breadcrumb trails of X-marked trees everywhere I go, eventually some Pokemon is likely going to take issue with me "vandalizing" its territory. It hasn't happened yet, but as I've recently learned, some Pokemon can be extremely territorial over the area they consider to be theirs. The local Beedrill for example are really not fond of the neighboring Combee wandering too close, and the Starly and Pidgey flocks seem to be engaged in the middle of an ongoing turf war every time I see them.

...on that note, for all that's it clear I'm not in my own world anymore, I still have very little idea where specifically in this one I am. I don't even know what region this is, let alone which particular forest, and it's not like I have a GPS on hand to figure it out. The sheer variety of Pokemon that seem to live here isn't helping narrow it down any — even discounting the already-noted birds and bees, I've thus far seen Bidoofs, Stantler, Spinarak, Burmys, Wurmples, Pinsir, Seedot, Cherubis, and at least an entire second Pokerap's verse worth of others. With there being at least four different generations of Pokemon wandering around this place, my location remains an utter mystery to me... I could even be in a region that was never featured in any of the games at all. Or, hell, given that I'm now a Pokemon for some reason, and have yet to see any solid proof of human existence here, this might even be the Mystery Dungeon universe for all I know!

The thought brings me to a pause mid-stride. Huh. Actually, that could potentially explain why I "spawned" in the middle of a forest as well, despite the fact that I'm pretty sure Mawile generally live in caves. I don't think it's all that likely I'm really in the Mystery Dungeon verse; I was mostly just spitballing, but... hmm. Still something to keep in mind.

A ruffle of wings prompts me to look up, spotting a Starly coming to rest on a nearby tree. I tilt my head at it — a Starly, all on its own? That's a first... but maybe without the rest of its flock around...

"Excuse me?" I call up to it, my new voice high, childish-sounding, and slightly scratchy from lack of use. "Um, hello! Have you seen any-"

The Starly looks in my direction, spots me, and immediately takes off before I can even finish my sentence.

Despite having largely expected that, I can't help but slump in disappointment before resuming my previous course. I don't get why this keeps happening... maybe it's just that no one around here has ever actually seen a Mawile before (probably owing to that whole "living in caves" thing), but every interaction I've had with other Pokemon thus far has consisted of them either getting angry at me, being utterly unwilling to talk to me, or seeming bizarrely scared of me, none of which I quite understand the reasons for. I mean, I am admittedly like 50 percent mouth, but I've been trying my best to seem friendly, and it's not like I've been walking up to them backwards with my horns open and on full display. Yet every time, I'm either told to get lost, am completely ignored, or the Pokemon I'm trying to talk to at the time suddenly bolts. I don't even know if I'm doing something wrong, if I'm deliberately being shunned for some reason, or if Pokemon groups are all just that insular...

I let my thought process trail off there as I finally emerge into a small clearing, smiling in relief as I spot my temporary housing sitting in the center of it. I built it on top of where I first woke up in this world, and the small cluster of rocks is quickly becoming an oddly comforting sight for me. I suppose that's simply because it signifies that I know roughly where I am again, and can now rest for a while.

I wince as I feel my stomach growl, a pang of hunger making me clutch at my side. Unfortunately, rest is probably not in the cards just yet at the moment. I haven't found any berries to eat all morning, and from the look of the sun, it's nearly noon...

Damn, looks like I'm not gonna have any choice again. I really wish I didn't have to keep doing this.

Resigning myself to the inevitable, I follow another one of my tree paths to an empty, relatively quiet spot of forest not too far away from my base, where I quickly locate a nearby bush large enough to hide myself inside of. If there's one advantage I've found so far to being so short, it's that keeping out of sight is now much, much easier than it would be otherwise, which has already come in handy multiple times thus far.

This in mind, I push my way into the bush, making sure to position myself almost exactly opposite to the way I actually want to look. Mawile apparently have excellent peripheral vision, so as long as there's still a few small holes in the foliage to see through, this doesn't inconvenience me at all.

Once I've gotten myself adequately ensconced within my leafy cover, I take in a long, deep breath, letting the air simply sit in my stomach for a moment. Then, I slowly breathe it out through my horns, simultaneously opening the small, internal gland required to slightly alter its composition as I do so. A pleasant, almost sugary smell begins to suffuse the nearby air, wafting out of the front of the bush and slowly drifting over the forest in the same direction I'm releasing it.

Sweet Scent isn't a move I would have ever considered useful before, but for the past week? It's actually turned out to be my saving grace. I do need to keep it somewhat contained however — last time, I accidentally overdid it, and ended up with the entire section of forest around me smelling like an oversweetened fruit stand. The sheer number of bugs that attracted... no, I definitely don't want a repeat of that.

Thankfully, I seem to have gotten the amount correct this time, as another Pokemon soon comes wandering into the clearing. A Bidoof, to be specific. Probably not a very old one, based on its size, but it'll do.

The Bidoof sniffs at the air contentedly, seeming slightly entranced by the scent I'm releasing. I lessen my output a little, diffusing the aroma less and letting it concentrate it around the bush I'm in. Come on...

The other Pokemon continues to follow its nose, probably thinking that the scent is coming from a berry cluster of some sort. Eventually, it begins to narrow in on the source, and slowly starts walking towards my hiding spot. I remain absolutely still as it approaches, not daring to do anything prematurely.

Wait for it...

The Bidoof sniffs tentatively at the outside of my cover.

Wait for it...

A smile comes over the beaver Pokemon's face. It definitely thinks it's found food.

Wait for it...

A furry head pushes its way into the bush.

...now.

I lunge, my horns surging through the foliage and clamping down on the Bidoof's head like a vice. Before it can even process what's happening, I whip the conjoined appendages upwards with all my strength, making the motion as sharp and abrupt as I possibly can. There's a loud squeal, a sudden snap of bone... and then silence, once again.

I emerge from the bush, my kill still clutched tightly between the teeth of my titular maw. From the way the Bidoof's body is now swinging at a crooked, obviously wrong angle to its head, my swing must have almost instantly broken its neck. Good, I managed to make it quick this time — the last one took almost twenty seconds of concerted thrashing before finally going still.

Ending my use of Sweet Scent, I lay the body down and start eating, trying hard to not to be too sloppy about it this time. I know by now that no matter what I do, my horns are going to end up covered in gore by the end of this, but if I get too overzealous, I'll get it all over my fur too, and the sticky, blotchy brown it stains makes me feel absolutely disgusting.

...you know, maybe this is why no one wants to talk to me.