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[personal profile] brightberries
Written originally for a Fictionkind community prompt, #76 in fact. I also uploaded this as a chapter in my slice-of-life multichapter fanfic anthology over on Ao3. I no longer identify as a female, human-owned, domesticated bloodline eevee, that's been evolved into a vaporeon via a Water Stone, by this point. It's become just an alternate form of my main fursona, sans the backstory (which has been recycled for an OC), and that's fine by me.

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The river runs frothy; its sound is near a roar, but gentler.

It’s a vividly orange autumn this year. Leaves smother the ground, though the tree branches above are not yet bare. Brightly blue, the vaporeon female stands out starkly against it all. Her eyes glitter with curiosity as she approaches the flowing freshwater. Her human has never brought her here before. They seemed unusually chipper this morning about the trip; despite this, she had slept the whole car ride in the backseat.

Whatever makes her human happy is probably good news for her, she figures. Eyeing what’s before her now, she takes a slow, deep breath. A vaporeon never fears water. They’re made of it more than any other pokémon. So, it isn’t quite anxiety that makes her hesitate, but apprehension for the likely temperature. She also easily sees this river—or is it a big stream? She could never tell the difference—doesn’t seem too broad, and can’t even sweep away a grown human. Her kind are far smaller than humans, except perhaps a small child, but she’s confident she can deal with anything.

She steps in, and indeed, it’s unfathomably cold. She’s accustomed to lukewarm water everywhere else in her life. Slipping further in, her underside gets completely soaked, and she shivers, but it’s not impossible to endure. She decides to suck it up and take it, dunking her head completely underwater and staying there, adjusting. Vaporeon have gills and lungs that cooperate to make an incredibly amphibious creature.

(It’s too bad she hasn’t spotted any fish pokémon. She wouldn’t mind a self-gotten snack, for once.)

Pushing against the current, she forces herself to walk upriver, still submerged. She could easily “melt” into it like she’s done in bodies of still water, but that would just make her float downstream, and she doesn’t want that. Beginning to realize she doesn’t have much experience with moving water, it creeps up on her that this is going to be difficult.

The river keeps pressing her back, stubborn. Her blue paws slip on slick stones hidden beneath white froth. She dislikes feeling so clumsy; still waters have always obeyed her as a Water-type, so this restless flow demanding more effort is new…but not undoable. She adjusts, pushing herself deeper where the current is a little slower, tail lashing for balance. Bubbles trail past her as she steadies, half-dissolving into the river in that way only her kind can manage, until she senses she’s become part of it yet continues pushing against it. It works—but if she slacks, if she lets go, she knows she’ll be carried downstream in a sweeping heartbeat.

Something flickers in the corner of her vision. Blinking, she turns her head just in time to spot a round little body: a wildborn poliwag, darting quick as a shadow. It vanishes beneath a swirl of bubbles, only to pop up once more, twitching its tail. Mocking? Like it’s trying to bait her. She stares at it cluelessly, suddenly remembering how she’d joked to herself earlier about wanting prey. She’s a spoiled house-pet; she doesn’t know how to hunt.

A breath later, a freshwater magikarp bursts from the shallows in a messy splash, smacking the surface with its fins before unceremoniously flopping back under. The sight makes her wonder. Are they just being playful with her? Well, then…

She gives chase. Uncertain, foolish-feeling, but excited. With sharper kicks of her limbs, the current tugs harder, as though the river itself is trying to restrain her. Her paws catch solid ground again beneath the surface, and she presses forward, chasing until the two prey ‘mon vanish into their secret hiding places, shielded from predators like her. The thrill that had been building inside her dies a slow, begrudging death.

She sighs, disappointed, about to turn back toward her human—when she notices. It had been right in front of her nose all along: a deeper pool tucked between big, peculiar boulders, shaded by arching branches heavy with red-and-gold leaves. The water here is calmer; a placid mirror compared to the chaos before. Tilting her head, she slips into it, easing seamlessly.

Something stirs inside her. A pulsing sensation, like recognition. This pool is older, sharper, more alive. She can’t name why. She only knows she wants to stay here forever.

It doesn’t quite make sense. Why would there be a patch of magic water here, of all places?

Maybe it’s all in her head.

She doesn’t know how long she remains there, but eventually something pushes her out—or pulls her. She breaches the surface, drawing air into lungs she hadn’t been using, and finds herself face-to-face with her worried human. His expression shifts to sheer relief.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he hisses, pressing her close to his ribcage. “Arceus! I thought you’d gotten caught in rapids!”
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