Opal & Topaz

S1 Ep4: Leaving the nest

Maps had never been his strong suit. So then, maybe it was a blessing that Sparks had a knack for directional sense. Once they found a main path, Sparks took it from there and led them back home. Now, the hard part was remembering where he put that damn pokeball. He knew it was somewhere. He specifically remembered letting them out after they first moved in, only for them to get their head stuck in a box 15 minutes later. Hank tried recalling where he put it down after that whole fiasco. Nothing came to mind. So, he decided to start in the storage closet at the very back, the one he hadn't quite found a use for yet.

Aside from some old cascoon moults, it was empty. He closed the door, making his way across the house to his bedroom, deciding the next best place was the closet. It took roughly half an hour, thanks to the amount of spare boxes he kept at the back, but neither the closet nor boxes had it. He furrowed his brow. Where the hell was it? Hank made his way to the other side of the house again, passing Sparks who'd situated himself on the couch to have a nap.

He checked the kitchen. Every single drawer. Out of desperation he checked the fridge, wondering if he'd accidentally placed it back there when he wasn't paying attention. Nothing. He took a step back, leaning against the counter. Maybe he had to think back a little further.

He remembered it was a rough ride getting here, even Sparks was grumpy when he let them out for a break, and they usually didn't mind being in there. When they realised they were only halfway there Sparks had started dropping their pokeball into whatever inconvenient space they could find. Eventually, Hank just took it off them. But he wondered if Sparks had hidden it somewhere after moving in. Though, it definitely couldn't be in the house, he'd looked everywhere, and he wouldn't have better luck in the forest either.

Sighing, Hank wandered into the living room, leaning over the back of the couch to look at Sparks. He gently tapped their side, to which their quiet snoring stopped and their eyelids twitched, but didn't quite open.

"Where's your pokeball?" He asked, watching their ear twitch. Of course, they had to give him attitude, so they groaned and placed their paws over their snout, their breathing slowing to that of falling asleep again.

Hank rolled his eyes, "I'm not leaving you alone until you show me."

He fluffed up their mane, forcing Sparks to roll off the couch drowsily to find it, but not without a quiet growl first. He stood back up properly, crossing his arms as they disappeared into the next room over. They came back with their fetching ball. Though, they had to be doing it out of wilful ignorance. They knew the difference between their fetching and pokeball.

"You know I'm talking about the other one." Hank took on a more serious tone, to let them know he wasn't kidding around right now. Sparks dropped it, groaned, pawed roughly at his shin as they passed by, and went out the front door. Either they were looking for it or finding somewhere else to take a nap. If it happened to be the latter, they'd be back in 5 minutes. But just to be safe, he tagged along.

They circled to the back of the cabin, before Sparks began trying to push himself into a small hole under the foundation. Unfortunately, he was much too big. Hank gently pushed them to the side to take a look inside. Within seconds, a red glint caught his eye, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed in Sparks. Hiding it somewhere they could retrieve it would've been fine, but this was just childish.

He turned to look at them, trying to display his thoughts through his expression, but they'd already laid back down, quietly snoozing.

He sighed, getting up to look around the tree line for a stick. They were all either too thin, or too short. So, he ended up just snapping one straight off a tree. When he got back, Sparks was gone, presumably back inside where it was comfortable. He started poking around with the stick, inch by inch, getting it closer. Finally, he was able to reach his hand in and grab it. The hole took up most of his arm length, a little over his elbow to be exact, he could feel the dirt scraping against his knuckles as he pulled it, but he got it out.