A Pokemon Problem
(19) - The Gang's (Almost) All Here
With Miranda and Philomena added to our ranks, we retraced our steps (or lack thereof) to find our way back to the clearing where we stopped at with the intent to rest, picking Seth up along the way.
Well, not so much as picking him up as having him carry Miranda, since he managed to evolve into a Piloswine while Ryder and I were out scaring gryphons and rescuing fire birds. According to Seth, he had been periodically eating food he could get his stubby little paws on whenever he was awake, simply because 'he had to.' I understood immediately: it was similar to my own instant understanding of 'needing' to consume that fateful vein of iron in the cave where I found Ryder.
At least Seth didn't have to eat with his ass. I wasn't even sure which part of my body contained my consumption orifice in my current body.
Anyway, I managed to dispose of Miranda onto Seth's back instead of my own, which granted me immediate relief. I wasn't sure why, but having her latched onto my torso made my levitating capabilities much harder to keep up. It was like I knew exactly how much I weighed and how much effort it took to make myself hover, and Miranda's extra weight just screwed everything up.
Seth didn't complain, though. If anything, he seemed happy to be of use, for once.
We traveled at a steady pace (due to our land-locked compatriots) out of the forest, and kept going until we hit the train tracks again. I was certain that they were our ticket to Canterlot (and by extension, to Celestia), and I'd be damned if my strategy didn't seem to be working better than expected, if finding Miranda and Philomena had anything to say for my plan.
After a few more hours of steady walking and floating, I felt Philomena's claws tighten around the skinny portion of my arm. For some reason that I couldn't fathom, she had taken to perching on me rather than flying herself. I wanted to tell her to get off, because her feet felt like they were burning a hole through my arm, but decided against it: I wasn't sure how easily phoenix in general, nor Philomena herself took to offense. I mean, if I could deal with the stupid headache that never went away, I could deal with a burning limb.
Strange. I never thought of myself as masochistic before. Must be the Metang part of me talking.
"Everyone, halt," she chirped. Miranda cocked her head to one side from her perch upon Seth's shaggy, hunched back, evidently confused as to why we all stopped moving. For yet another reason that I had no answer to, everyone was able to understand Philomena perfectly, except for Miranda. I found that incredibly ironic, considering that they were both fire-wielding birds.
"Does anyone feel... something? Hear something?" Philomena asked.
I followed the phoenix's advice and listened. Nearby, I could hear a family of ground-dwelling mammals digging through the moist soil. Distant, but still not completely gone was the sound of the waterfall crashing into the lake. Even farther was a rumbling sound, too far for even me to make out clearly.
"Are you talking about the vibrations?" asked Seth, his voice having dropped another octave after evolution. His voice was more appropriate in a Piloswine rather than a Swinub, but still. "I've been feeling those for almost an hour now, and I don't know what they're from."
"I don't feel any vibrations," added Ryder, "but I feel... wind? Air? It's hard to explain. Kinda like how you can feel the air resistance of something thrown close to you, but amplified."
"All I can hear is a distant rumbling."
"I don't hear anything!" added Miranda helpfully. "What are we talking about?"
Philomena began preening her feathers again, glaring at my ex with one pure yellow eye while she did so. "I don't understand why you put up with that one, Little Guy," Philomena said, putting no emphasis on 'Little Guy,' unlike everyone else. "Nothing that comes out of her beak is even remotely useful or necessary."
The fact that Philomena could understand Miranda, but not vice-versa was news to me. "I thought you couldn't understand each other," I said, directing my thoughts to the phoenix on my arm.
She ruffled her wings and folded them against her slender body once more. "Untrue. She can't understand me, but I can comprehend her just perfectly," she whispered with venom infecting her words. Philomena shook her head quickly in the variety that seemingly only avian species were capable of. "Returning to the subject of why I asked everyone present to listen," she began, addressing everyone once more, "I did so only because I believe there to be a large, angry creature following us."
"W—Really?" asked Ryder, who was trying to peer deep into the grasslands behind us. "I don't see anything."
"Perhaps it's because your eyes aren't quite attached to your head properly," Philomena retorted. Ryder stuck his tongue out at the phoenix. "I presume that I can see further than anyone else here," she continued, "and I am certain that there is something—a rather large something—following us. It is still very far away, but it's moving quickly and relentlessly."
I thought for a moment, digesting Philomena's words. What creature would be out to get us, here, in the middle of the grasslands with nothing but a train track for miles—
I blinked a few times in realization.
"Philomena, I don't think there's a creature chasing us," I said.
She cocked her head to the side. "And why do you think that? I can see it from here: a gleaming, sharp protrusion protecting its mouth, a single horn that is raised to the sky and billows black smoke—"
"Because, Philly—" I received a ruffle of feathers, but no verbal assault, so I continued with a mental smirk, "—that 'creature' (I even used the air quotes) is a train."
"A... train?"
"A big metal contraption that moves things from one place to another with great speed over long distances. They need rails like these—" I motioned to the tracks on my right, "—to move."
"Oh." Philomena's face turned a slightly darker shade of burnt orange. "My apologies: I was unaware of the existence of such a contraption. We should carry on at once then—" She stopped when she looked into the eye closest to her. "What are you planning, Little Guy?"
I looked at Ryder, and he looked back. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked.
"I think I'm thinking of what you're thinking," he replied.
"I think it's time to steal a train."