Chapter 28 - Melemele Meadow

📓 Evan's Journal 

Month 1, Day 29 

Location: Hau'oli City → Melemele Meadow 

Time: 09:00 AM 

Bag? Packed. 

Food? Packed. 

Pokémon? Fired up and ready for anything. 

Today felt significant; I could sense it in my fingertips. With a full team and a full stomach, we set out from Hau'oli, heading toward one of Melemele's gems: Melemele Meadow. 

[Pokémon: Bug Catcher] 

Everything shifted as we passed beyond Route 3 and entered the winding trail toward the meadow. The air itself grew warmer, touched by something almost enchanted. The scent of wildflowers drifted thick and sweet, wrapping around us like a perfume carried on the breeze. Tall, golden grasses swayed gently, rustling softly beneath a lazy sunbeam. Above us, petals—tiny, cotton-soft flakes—floated like nature's confetti, drifting on invisible wind currents. 

Then, like she had been waiting for this very moment, Trixie's Pokéball began to shake. I didn't hesitate; I released her and the others right then and there. Trixie shot upward with a burst of energy, her wings buzzing like a living harp. Thorn stepped forward, silent as always, but emitted a low, appreciative hum as his antennae twitched. Grip? Well, he launched himself into the nearest bunch of flowers like a missile and didn't come out for five minutes. I could still hear him chewing something in there. 

The Locals 

Cutiefly 

We didn't have to wait long before the meadow's true residents appeared. A cloud of Cutiefly flitted across the meadow like pollen sprites, their wings shimmering like glass dipped in sunlight. They danced from bloom to bloom, their flight paths erratic yet full of joy. One tiny Cutiefly even landed on my shoulder—its legs tickled, and it stared at me with big, blinking eyes before zipping off in a zigzag, as if it had just remembered something. 

I think my Bugforce attracts Bug-types passively. Just a theory, but a fun one. Trixie couldn't resist. She dove into the air with them, turning the sky into a dazzling light show—flashes of pink and yellow weaving like fireworks over the golden grass. 

**Cottonee & Petilil** 

Near some flowering bushes, we stumbled upon a mini soap opera: A Cottonee and a Petilil were locked in a fluffy turf war, both vying for the same sunny patch. The Cottonee puffed itself up, bouncing toward Petilil with high-pitched squeaks of indignation. Petilil? She turned her back, sassy as anything, swaying as if to say, "I'm too pretty for this." 

Grip—still chewing—got too close, and the Cottonee nailed him in the face with a puff of cotton. He froze, blinked, and then slowly backed away. Thorn let out a dry buzz that might have been a chuckle. 

⚡ **Oricorio (Pom-Pom Style)** 

Then she arrived. From the far end of the meadow came the sound of rhythmic wingbeats—measured and deliberate. An Oricorio descended like a beam of sunlight, her feathers blazing gold, with pom-pom wings bouncing with every fluid movement. Every step was a dance, and every motion sparked tiny charges in the air. She was a living metronome of elegance and power. 

Thorn noticed her. She noticed him. The air between them crackled. Oricorio struck a pose while Thorn responded with a wing-flare—no words, no commands—just a challenge. 

She began. Her wings rose in a sweeping arc before slicing downward, scattering sparks through the meadow. Her dance was electric—literally. 

"Thorn—standard opening! Focus Rush!" 

Thorn vanished in a violet blur, his stingers slicing the air in a rapid X-arc toward her side. But Oricorio was already in motion. She twirled, her pom-poms spinning in a cyclone of feathers and wind. The grass rippled, and pollen flew. Her dodge was graceful, and her counter—Revelation Dance lit the air with a ring of golden energy that surged forward. 

"Dodge and feint—then Fury Cutter!" 

Thorn dipped and rolled mid-air, narrowly missing the blast. He vanished into the tall grass. 

Silence. 

Oricorio hovered, alert. 

Then—CRASH! Thorn erupted from below like a missile, his stingers coated in green energy—Fury Cutter, the first of many. 

The strike hit. She flinched midair. Her shriek was defiant as she twirled again, launching Feather Dance, scattering luminous down that clung to Thorn like static streamers. His wingbeats faltered, and his speed dropped. She was clever. 

"Break it! Surge Sting!" 

Thorn's wings whirred louder, then burst with a surge of crackling energy. The Surge Sting we developed—an electric-enhanced version of Poison Jab—lit his stinger like a neon blade. He struck. Oricorio jolted in defence, but Thorn's strike powered through, catching her clean. 

"Now!" 

He rose again—stingers glowing electric-blue—and dived in a spiralling fury. She tried to twirl away, but was too slow. 

CRACK! 

His stinger landed squarely between her wings. She was launched skyward like a broken ribbon, crashing back into the grass and scattering a startled group of Cutiefly in her wake. 

Everything went still. 

Thorn hovered above, wings humming like a low drumbeat. I walked over, resting my hand gently on his shoulder. 

"Good fight." 

I then knelt beside Oricorio, pulled out a Potion, and gently sprayed it across her bruised side. She blinked at me, dazed but grateful, and chirped softly.