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  "description": "A mouse who has lived her whole life in Unova’s Village Bridge as a carpenter finds herself hearing a mysterious song on the wind every Friday night. After hearing it week after week, she finally tries to get to the bottom of its source, but none of the other villagers seem to hear it… Legend has it of a mysterious voice that lures villagers to another world, but surely the answer is more mundane?\n\nAdult content warning: Vore, Oral vore, digestion, Feral predator, Pokémon predator (Lapras), Anthro prey.\n\nMisc. content warning: long story, vore doesn’t happen until pretty late in. Somewhat sad themes. On the edge of dub-con, though the mouse is willing her instincts and fears are difficult to quiet.\n------\n\nAuthor’s Comments: It’s been too long since I’ve done a proper story. I’ve been focusing a lot of my writing on novels (and getting, admittedly, a bit caught up in RP – it’s nice to tease friends, and be teased). I wanted to try something new. This has been on my burner off and on for longer than I’d care to admit, but I wanted to push it forward and make a step towards actually writing for myself again. I hope to (eventually) get back to a facility with my writing that lets me feel comfortable enough to offer commissions again, but, until that point… I intend to keep up the momentum so to speak.\n\nThis story in specific is definitely a bit of self-indulgence, featuring my own two characters. The preyish Molly the mouse, and my predatory Sophie the Lapras. I had a lot of fun constructing this one, and it was a great excuse for me to work more on my worldbuilding and conversation writing in specific. I hope you all don’t mind too much making this a bit more story besides the indulgent smut!\n\nThis story could potentially continue from here, if there’s an interest in that – though for now, this is a fairly self-complete tale.  \n",
  "description_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>A mouse who has lived her whole life in Unova&rsquo;s Village Bridge as a carpenter finds herself hearing a mysterious song on the wind every Friday night. After hearing it week after week, she finally tries to get to the bottom of its source, but none of the other villagers seem to hear it&hellip; Legend has it of a mysterious voice that lures villagers to another world, but surely the answer is more mundane?<br /><br />Adult content warning: Vore, Oral vore, digestion, Feral predator, Pok&eacute;mon predator (Lapras), Anthro prey.<br /><br />Misc. content warning: long story, vore doesn&rsquo;t happen until pretty late in. Somewhat sad themes. On the edge of dub-con, though the mouse is willing her instincts and fears are difficult to quiet.<br />------<br /><br />Author&rsquo;s Comments: It&rsquo;s been too long since I&rsquo;ve done a proper story. I&rsquo;ve been focusing a lot of my writing on novels (and getting, admittedly, a bit caught up in RP &ndash; it&rsquo;s nice to tease friends, and be teased). I wanted to try something new. This has been on my burner off and on for longer than I&rsquo;d care to admit, but I wanted to push it forward and make a step towards actually writing for myself again. I hope to (eventually) get back to a facility with my writing that lets me feel comfortable enough to offer commissions again, but, until that point&hellip; I intend to keep up the momentum so to speak.<br /><br />This story in specific is definitely a bit of self-indulgence, featuring my own two characters. The preyish Molly the mouse, and my predatory Sophie the Lapras. I had a lot of fun constructing this one, and it was a great excuse for me to work more on my worldbuilding and conversation writing in specific. I hope you all don&rsquo;t mind too much making this a bit more story besides the indulgent smut!<br /><br />This story could potentially continue from here, if there&rsquo;s an interest in that &ndash; though for now, this is a fairly self-complete tale.&nbsp;&nbsp;<br /></span>",
  "writing": "An eerie voice tugged at the wind, echoing its wordless song across the placid rooftops of the Village Bridge. In the shimmering, cool-blue glimmer of moonlight it almost seemed to fall like rain from the pillowy clouds. Molly found herself staring into the dark, tracing the treetops again as the mysterious voice returned precisely on schedule.\n\nThe mouse had to remind herself that music in the ancient bridge-bound town was not an unusual occurrence. Musicians of every kind brought their colorful voices and instruments to the natural music of the bridge. Everything from the dull tambour of drums to the bright twang of guitar might float through her porthole of a window. Molly's sharp murine ears let her pick up even the subtler hums and quieter voices that drifted atop the placid river as it bubbled beneath the flowing arches of the bridge. Even without her sharp ears, though, it was impossible not to appreciate the natural amphitheater of the thick ash and oak trees that framed the cool water and soft brick housing.\n\nHer mousey tail swished, unbidden as it followed the enchanting voice on the air. It was hard to believe it was simply a voice as its sonorous notes arched into a reverberant flute. It made her ears shiver, and her bones quiver as though vibrating to the strum of each rise and fall of the song. Tonight's song hummed in the air like quavering crystal, each note painting unseen lights into the sky. The song was a shimmering tapestry in her mind, painting colorful stars and shimmering curtains just out of reach outside her window.\n\nEvery Friday night the same singer returned, ever since the first night the song had woken her two months back. The voice was bright and feminine, its swaying vibrato too perfect to be Katz. The young beaver was a skilled singer, certainly, but his voice simply had never met that pitch, nor did he have the experience that could match that forlorn, cold tone. A lonesome, longing song, it touched something inside Molly that made her want to leap up, find its source, and reassure it. \n\nThe worst part of it was that none of the other villagers could tell her where the voice came from. The closest she ever came to an answer was from the eldest in the village who spoke of the mysterious voice under the bridge that reached out to snatch children who thought of leaving the ancient bridge and their families. Of course, they argued, no one else could hear the song. It was a sign that she should redouble her attention to her work as a carpenter. But how could everyone miss something so soulful? \n\nThe lamplight seemed to dance with the song, swaying the shadows of her books and papers on the wall behind her desk. It was as though everything around her was shivering to face the song, like cobwebs stirred aside by a sudden hopeful zephyr. It was only when Molly read the same sentence of her book for the third time that she realized she had stalled, her attention fully listening to song. Finally giving up on her reading she fetched her bookmark only to find she had barely started the chapter. Had she been waiting for the song to return? She should have known she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the story if the singer were to return as they had every Friday night prior... The voice tugged at her imagination, made her heart skip with the promise adventure, something more than just the dusty old brick of the ancient bridge.\n\nMolly pushed away from the table, her chair creaking as she stood and walked to the window. From there she could take a finer look out along the forest, a dull silhouette in the moonlight only disturbed by the flitter of nocturnal Pokemon flitting to and from their nests. Could they hear the song too? A part of her wanted to believe they stirred hearing the siren's song and like her were trying to find its source. Wasn't that just fanciful thinking, though? Such a beautiful song couldn't have been the product of her imagination, not when it spoke of things she had only dreamed of experiencing. The trees nodded in the wind, caught in the swelling tune. Their dance rustled and swayed with the beat until the melody quieted, and they seemed to still again.\n\nCould someone from the village be playing an elaborate trick on her? That was an unlikely proposition. Sure, Katz and her neighbor Darrel would have loved to take credit for making her wonder so, but they didn't have the patience to keep up the charade for months. One of them would have at least dropped a hint about it by now!\n\nThe simplest answer was that no one in the village was awake so late on a Friday night to hear the song. Was that a reasonable explanation? Molly pushed her window open, its carefully maintained hinge hardly breathing a sound as she leaned over to try to catch a glimpse of the shadowy riverbank below. But the shadows were impenetrable. Her house was higher from the river than those of her neighbors, but it was closer to the water than any besides the one directly across from her, or across to the other side of the bridge. \n\nMaybe... Enough maybes! She braced a hand on her hip and her tail stabbed toward the ground. The soft cushion of her carpet kept it from hitting solid wood, but her thoughts were on the source of the mysterious song. She whirled from the window and snatched her hooded cloak from its stand beside the table. With a hasty toss over her shoulders, she skipped down the stairs two at a time. It took a shake of her head to get her mousey ears into the slots of her hood, but that was an afterthought as she darted across the room without sparing a glance to her kitchenette.\n\nAs soon as her polished oak door swung open the song hit her with a trilling surge of notes that made her totter. Quieter, perhaps, as she was closer to the center of the bridge and the sound was shaped by the archways and echoed back from the trees to reach her... but the voice was still just as strong in her ears. It told her whoever was singing was beneath the bridge, their voice carried by the gentle breeze that tugged at her cloak as though beckoning her onward. She hardly registered the aged creak of her door closing behind her as she pondered the rich serenade, and the bridge around her. \n\nThe oil lanterns danced as though conducted by the voice, swelling to each rise then lilting as the tempo quieted again. Above, the stars were a gorgeous glitter peering down at her swaddled in the fluffy blue-gray clouds. A waxing moon caught the shadows around the warm yellow orange of the lanternlight, illuminating the rooftops os the village set into the bridge. Even the nocturnal Pokemon were quiet, each she imagined listening to the song from their hidden perches.\n\nMolly let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It caught her heart and held her as still as the quiet buildings around her, drinking in the crystalline voice with a faint ear twitch. Somehow, it sounded like it was all around her, its echoing voice, but she was sure it was coming from beneath the bridge, and... to the south? The notes rolled off each of the bridge's arches and seemed to be everywhere, but she knew it well enough to follow. The song felt louder tonight, clear enough to reach beneath her fur and make it all stand on end.\n\nShe tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders to keep it secure as she jumped over the bricks. The arch of the bridge was a gentle slope, but she let it carry her momentum downwards in a small rush. Was it a trainer from the city to the West? Was it perhaps instead a musician perfecting their craft? The voice seemed so polished that the latter seemed a silly proposition. The voice could have been a superstar at Pokestar Studios without even trying!\n\nCool night air whipped through her white fur, and she realized she was running. It pulled her cloak open around her sides, and though it wasn't really that cold out the haunting song made her long for its added warmth. She slowed at the last few steps down, keeping to the sloped brick to the side of the bridge's stairs as she pulled her cloak back around her and clasped its buttons together. Snap. The sound was almost startling, amid the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind, and for a moment she feared the singer might hear her and flee. \n\nQuickly, now, quickly. The voice hadn't faltered, but Molly didn't want to miss it as she caught her tail around one of the twinkling streetlamps and used it as an anchor to preserve her momentum around the side of the bridge. The soft gras brushed along her boots, leaving them damp as the wordless song soared into a climactic series of notes. \n\nNo time to follow the white fence to the gate - she pressed a hand between the bar between two posts and vaulted it into the tennis court's grassy field. She stumbled onto her knee, her fur and hand left damp and wet as she caught herself and pushed back up. The transition from grass to soft court tiling only helped her get back up to speed as she made for the gate opposite. \n\nDespite her rush, the song found its final few notes, a forlorn farewell to that surging climax that had her heart pounding. The chill breeze along her damp fur was an afterthought, a leap over the line at the center without even thinking that its net wouldn't be there. The river was quiet, an almost eerie silence lingering in the air as not a single creature dared to speak up and break the reverent afterthought left by the serene song. No one emerged from beneath the bridge's dual archways, and it had only been a moment.\n\nMolly pushed through the gate and looked beneath the bridge, trying to catch her breath as she stared into the shadowy dark under the archways. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the polished rocky riverbank was illuminated on either side of the arch by soft moonlight. The dancing torchlight atop the bridge hardly reached this far down, but it was clear there was no motion, no glimpse of the woman she expected to see vanishing not the trees. \n\nShe darted her gaze across to the small islet where the two arches of the great bridge rested, then to the bank opposite, but there was no movement. Somewhere in the distance, the droning croon of a Kricketot tentatively began to chime in, almost questioning whether it was ok to speak up.\n\nNo one was there.\n\nWas it a ghost? That couldn't be right. Molly found her tail curling around her ankle, and she gave herself a reassuring squeeze as she stepped out of the light and beneath the bridge. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark to pick out the glimmering ripple of the river, the dull moonlight spilling a softer blue illumination of the rocky riverbank. The story went that the siren's song would lure villagers into a room beneath the bridge, but she knew the bridge like the back of her hand. There were no openings in the wall on either side of the bridge the song might have come from. The Village Bridge was once again placid, peaceful, quietly awaiting the next performance. \n\nMolly paced to the edge of the riverbank, then back, leaning down occasionally to check the stone. There were no footprints, no scuffs, no mark on the pebble-strewn rocky banks of the river. Still, something should have been there, right?\n\nA small voice in the back of her head told her, I have no idea what you're looking for. The voice was right, she admitted, though she found herself turning back to the river as though it might offer her an answer. Its only reply was a swish of subtle waves, lapping against the shore. There was no one here but her.\n\nDefeated, Molly turned from the river and began a slow walk back, through the grass around the tennis court. The song seemed louder tonight than it had the weeks prior, but was that a fair measurement when this was the first time she'd come outside to listen? For once, she was certain she hadn't simply imagined it. Not if it was louder when she went out. A part of her wanted it to be some greater mystery, something more exciting than just another in a long line of singers to come to the bridge... but the fact it was a song only she could hear hung in her mind. Could it be she was creating it, something to explore beyond the brick and mortar she knew so well after living her whole life in the Village Bridge? \n\nNo. The song, wordless as it was, spoke of things so much more than she could imagine. It spoke of adventure and unknown, love and loss and loneliness. Every week more colorful, complex, painting pictures so much more personal than her fantasy novels.\n\nThe song seemed to cut deeper tonight. Louder and clearer than it had been any other night, it had filled the village. Someone had to have heard it... She would ask again. It couldn't have been just her this time, not when it had been so clear, when every wild Pokemon had been lost in reverie, listening.\n\nThe Village Bridge's quiet seemed almost deafening as she found herself back at her door. The quieter sounds of nature were far off, none so clear as the song that had played for her. Her door creaked again, and she took her boots and cloak off with another small snap. She all but fell into bed, mind racing on the possibilities, the stories in that enthralling voice until sleep finally found her and took her away into dreams.\n\nA Tranquill's song woke Molly from a deep sleep, the scattering wisps of a mystical, fantastical dream floating away from her like tattered ashes on the wind. While the avian song was not quite as refined, its happy tone brought an energy to her step that the Village Bridge so often lacked. The bright morning washed away the disappointment of once again losing the singer the night prior. Today, she would get a better answer to her mystery, she resolved. She hardly thought of her clothes - a simple beige tee and jean shorts, then she was picking up her cloak and draping it around her shoulders again. \n\nWhen she stepped outside, though, the noonlight sun stalled her in place. How late had she been out last night? It seemed it had only been a moment to get to the riverbank, but she had slept in far past when the respectable villagers were supposed to wake. She felt eyes on her, but none of the villagers paused as they milled about from building to building. At the center of the bridge, a plump and stout chipmunk was handing pastries over her food cart to a gaggle of children. Even from her house, Molly could see the friendly wiggle of her nose as she leaned back, the fresh scent of banana bread almost as sweet as her smile. Beatrice reminded her sometimes of her grandmother, though the woman was only a few years older than herself.\n\nThe gaggle of children darted away, cinnamon prizes clutched to their chest, and Molly waved. She crossed the bridge towards the scent, drawn towards the sweet aroma.\n\n``Molly!'' Beatrice beamed, leaning against the sturdy cart. Molly couldn't help sharing her infections smile.\n\n``Bea! You're looking happy today. How are you?''\n\n``Oh, hun. I'm doing well. I can't keep enough pastries on my cart! I've saved you a cinnamon twist, if you want one? I know those are your favorite!''\n\n``Sure thing, Bea, I'd love one.'' Molly's whiskers twitched, her smile settling into a bemused half-grin as she pulled out 200 P. The chipmunk tried to wave her money away, but Molly quietly insisted. Once she had her cinnamon twist, she leaned in close, ``Listen, Bea. I heard it again last night. The song.''\n\n``Again, Molly?'' Bea shook her head, but her smile was a constant on her bright creamy fur, ``Your singer certainly has a thing for Friday night Performances.''\n\n``Again, Bea. Don't tell me you didn't hear it last night. I went out to try to figure out who was singing, and I could hear it so clearly.''\n\n``No, dear. Timothy and I slept sound as babes last night. I think our window was even open! Are you certain it's not just a dream, dear?'' \n\nMolly sighed and took a bite of her twist. For a moment, her frustration slipped away in favor of a honeyed cinnamon explosion across her tongue. The twist seemed to melt like butter in her mouth, and she couldn't restrain a murmur of appreciation.\n\n``Mmn, Arceus, your twists are just divine,'' she shook her head and swallowed. ``I'm sure, Bea. Her voice... I'm sure it's a her, Bea. I got so close to it last night. After last time, I had to be sure I wasn't dreaming, and it was everywhere. She got my heart pounding. I'm sure it was someone singing under the bridge.''\n\nBeatrice crossed her arms, a brief flick of her tail visible as it peeked around her hips as she looked down the bridge from Molly's house to her own. They were neighbors, and Beatrice was one further from the river.\n\n``I don't know, Molly. It seems odd to me that someone would only sing at night. And only every other week... Have you talked to Katz, or Rachel?'' Bea was trying to be kind, Molly knew, by not mentioning the obvious, that only Molly seemed to hear it. \n\n``I asked Katz last week. He didn't have any idea what I was talking about,'' then seeing Beatrice raise a brow, she added, ``Or, at least, he seemed genuinely confused. I know him, Bea, and this wasn't anything like his flute.''\n\n``Rachel would know, if Katz or Darrel won't tell you. Goodness knows they're all together enough practicing.''\n\nMolly dipped her muzzle, and nodded, taking the chance to snatch another bite of her twist. Despite not learning anything, the sweet flavor and Bea's warmth kept her smiling. ``You're right, Bea. Thanks. Do you know where she might be today?''\n\n``Oh, I do, dear. She came by my stand not too long ago. She went down to the west side court with Arturo.'' Beatrice's tail pointed to her left, down the bridge, and she nodded after it, ``If you see her do send her my love. She's always such a dear.''\n\n``Of course, Bea, I will,'' Molly said as she stepped away. She gave the chipmunk a bright wave before she was too far, ``Thanks again for your help. I'll let you know what I find... I will get to the bottom of this!''\n\nA gently exasperation colored the chipmunk's parting wave, but Molly paid it no mind. Again, Beatrice had heard nothing, and this time Tim hadn't either. Beatrice could be a deep sleeper, she knew, but one of them should have heard the song. She let herself drift to the side of the bridge, taking the smooth metal railing in her hand. Its cool touch helped clear her thoughts.\n\nStrange singers were not something new to the Village Bridge. A part of her knew, and she felt a little guilty for trying to uncover the source. If it was someone who didn't want to be discovered, that was one thing, but for no one else to hear such a heart-stopping melody... Beatrice wasn't a singer, and Rachel's baritone was much too deep to be that pure vibrato. The chipmunk was right - If anyone would know the vocalists passing through their small town, it would be Rachel.\n\nA handful of travelers passed her as she crossed the bridge, the soft patter and click of shoes on brick. One gentleman in a brown bowler cap and suit tried to catch Molly's eyes, but she raised her hands and gestured at her empty beltline. He tipped his brown hat and continued on his way down the bridge. Molly was glad her parents had convinced her not to pursue becoming a trainer herself. The man was certainly a trainer, and likely would challenge Beatrice and her Heatmor. Many of the villagers had a trainer's license, but it was such a hassle to be stopped by every wannabe champion who passed through the bridge... She shook her head, slowing as the downward arch of the bridge smoothed into the gradient of brick into grass. Somewhat on autopilot she turned to the right, carefully moving around the fence and back onto the pavement leading up into the nook of trees where a basketball court hid. \n\nSurrounded by trees, the far-off burble of the river was muffled and overshadowed by the subtle susurrus of rustling branches, and soft strum of a guitar. A lanky wolf sat on a bench tucked into the nook of trees, strumming his guitar. He looked up when she waved, though he didn't stop playing.\n\n``Arturo! It's good to see you. Do you know if Rachel is on the court?''\n\n``Ah, Molly. Sure, sure she is, but she's a bit busy right about now. Why don't you take a seat, let me play ya a song?'' He flashed a toothy, too-wide grin.\n\n``Not right now, Arturo,'' Her arms went akimbo as she turned her gaze across the court. As he said, Rachel was there standing across from a heavyset man with the bearing of a hiker. The two were caught in a battle, though it was hard to make out how it was going from where she was. She turned back to the guitarist, and took the chance to ask, ``I don't suppose you heard it last night? The song, I mean. I'm sure it was loud enough.''\n\n``Issat the voice you were talking about last week? I thought Katz told ya, we didn't hear nothing,'' he seemed to sneer, and Molly just scoffed.\n\n``You know, it's not funny. Whatever you three are up to, you should cut it out before you all get into trouble.''\n\n``Nah, we ain't up to anything. Though if ya wanted to babysit us, you know - '' \n\n``Ew, no. Fine, I get the point. If you can't be an adult about it, I'll just ask Rachel.''\n\nMolly clicked her tongue and turned to move into the court before he could respond. Arturo was an ass, but at least she knew he wasn't clever enough to plot something as detailed as her mysterious singer. At least it was good timing, and the battle seemed to be over. She approached the hiker and Rachel just as he shook the weasel's hand. The bear of a hiker turned, then caught her eyes. Once more she raised her hands in a peaceable gesture.\n\n``Hey. I'm no trainer. No Pokemon here.''\n\nThe bear just grunted and pushed past her and out of the court\n\n``Hey!'' She stumbled to the side.\n\n``Don't give him the time of day,'' Rachels hand squeezed her shoulder, and the familiar deep and soothing voice helped pull her attention back, ``I'm not even sure he speaks our language.''\n\nMolly stifled a huff and flicked her tail. She brushed a hand over her shorts as though to clean off the bad mood, ``He could at least have some manners. I'm sure wherever he's from, it's still rude to shove. Are you ok, Rachel?''\n\n``I'm fine, Molly. He did a number on Azure, though. You don't happen to have a revive on you, do you?''\n\n``No,'' Molly shook her head and frowned. ``You know, you don't have to battle them. You could just ask them to leave.''\n\n``I know, Molly. But it's a great chance for Azure and me to meet new people. We aren't the best battlers, but she tries her hardest,'' Rachel tucked her pokeball into her purse with a sigh, ``I think you'd understand if you became a trainer.''\n\nMolly grimaced, folding her ears back. ``I don't think so. I still don't understand why it's so hard to just refuse a challenge. I'm not a trainer, and... ``She trailed off, then sighed. They had been over his many times before, and Rachel had that kind, patient smile she always had when she went off on that tangent again. Molly cracked a smile, ``Look. It's not important. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.''\n\nRachel gestured to the benches that looked over the court, and Molly followed her into the shade of the ash trees. The pleasant breeze rustled through the branches loose leaves wisping whimsically over the asphalt. Besides Rachel, there were few others in the court playing a simple game of hoops\n\n``What can I help with, Molly? Is it my father again?''\n\n``Oh no, nothing like that. I really appreciate that you were able to convince him to let me work. I'd almost had it with his stubborn attitude. No, I wanted to ask about last night,'' And for once, it was refreshing to see someone not make a face at her asking again. Rachel's brow furrowed curiously, and she went on, ``I heard the mysterious woman singing again. I think... I'm sure, she was under the bridge. It was louder last night, too. You must have heard her, right?''\n\n``A woman, singing?'' The weasel lifted a paw to her chin and looked to her left toward the river. ``I know that I've heard the old stories. You know the ones our parents used to tell, about the mysterious singer in the room that doesn't exist, under the bridge... But last night? There wasn't anything like that last night.''\n\n``Are you certain? That... Can't be. I heard it as clear as day. Clearer than you're talking to m now, actually. Not just in my bedroom on the second floor - but when I stepped out to the bridge, too.''\n\n``I'm pretty sure, Molly. I was up late last night practicing our new song. Darrel wants us to practice for our first real performance. Like the ones our grandparents used to do, you know?'' Then she paused, and let out a little, ``Oh! Maybe you heard me singing?''\n\n``No, no. I know your voice, Rachel. Trust me, I'd know if it was you.''\n\n``I don't think there was anyone else singing last night... Not that I heard, unless it was after I went to bed.''\n\n``That can't be right,'' Molly shook her head, ``Katz said the same thing last week when I asked him. I was sure it was him and Arturo, somehow, playing one of their stupid jokes again...'' Molly found herself clenching her hands, and she bit her lip, trying to think of some other possibility.\n\n``I don't know what to tell you, Molly, I'm sorry. There have been a few singers coming through, but most of them have been trainers. Or, on their way to perform in Opelucid city. None were here yesterday.'' Rachel's concern was clear, though her friend was doing her best to be gentle.\n\n``I-it's not in my head, I swear. Look, Rachel, I'm not sure what's going on, but there's someone singing down there. I know it. The same voice has been calling out for the last several Friday nights. I don't know why no one else has heard it, but I'm not imagining it!''\n\n``Maybe...'' Rachel placed a hand on Molly's shoulder, her manicured claws giving a tender squeeze through her shirt. ``Maybe it's the way the Bridge is speaking to you, telling you something. C-could it have been your own voice you were hearing?''\n\nMolly scoffed. ``No, not at all. My voice can't reach those pitches, nor be so smooth. I'm no singer, besides. I'm better with my hands, building things, you know? I've never had any interest in singing. ``\n\n``Maybe it isn't just singing,'' Rachel pondered. She looked away, to the river again. ``My grandfather always used to say, the river speaks to us all here in its own way. Maybe you should reconsider living alone as you do. No, no, don't make that face, Molly, you wouldn't need to battle.''\n\nMolly let loose a long breath and tried to will the incredulous look from her features. ``Maybe.'' Then she followed Rachel's gaze to the river, ``Every time I think about that, I hear my father's voice telling me how silly it is to be a trainer. How it'd take me away from my home here. I know that isn't the case now, but...''\n\nRachel gave her another squeeze and nodded again, before dropping her hand to her lap again. ``Maybe it is a singer. If it's someone who doesn't want to be found... maybe, you should go back and wait for them. If it isn't in your head, whoever it is should come back... Or...''\n\n``Or, maybe it was in my head all along, and I need to start thinking of something to keep me from going bonkers?'' Molly flashed a wry grin as across the court, the ball hit its hoop with a loud clang and bounced off to the side. \n\nThey sat together quietly, the subtle song of the river taking over where their conversation had stopped. Its dull rush mixed with the staccato notes from the bird Pokemon in the trees, a subtle sway under the carried hum of voices and lighter twang of Arturo's guitar. Finally, Molly sighed and reached over to give the weasel a fond push.\n\n``Listen, Rachel. Thanks for being straight with me. It isn't a bad idea, really. I'll go to the river and listen. Whatever it is, I don't think I can ignore it,'' she turned and met Rachel's smile. Her friend's whiskers twitched curiously.\n\n``I really just want the best for you, Molly. You've been all alone here... I know you aren't interested in Arturo or Darrel, but... Maybe a companion wouldn't be the worst for you. Azure has been such a joy, for me. I don't know what I would do without my Azumaril....''\n\nMolly's tail curled tight around one of the legs of the bench, and the mouse found herself adding almost too quiet to be heard, ``And... it'd make it easier for me to go somewhere other than the Village Bridge...'' Whether Rachel had heard her or not, the weasel gave no sign. Unwinding her tail felt like bending iron, but she somehow managed and stood. She turned her flat smile back to Rachel.\n\n``Maybe,'' Molly continued, ``There isn't a lot going on here, but I honestly appreciate the quiet music of this place sometimes. Maybe a companion is what I need to get me out of this funk. Really, thanks Rachel.''\n\nRachel's eyes twinkled, and she felt her friend's compassion as quiet as it was. She knew the weasel could feel how fake her smile was.\n\n``Yeah, Molly. And listen. If you ever want company, you're welcome to join me more often. I could even teach you how to sing, you know?''\n\n``I know. I appreciate it, Rachel, I just... I really don't have much interest in singing. I...'' Molly turned back to the bridge, her tail curled around her waist, ``Listen. I have some business to tend to. The village won't build itself, you know? It's been good to see you, Rachel. I'll tell you what it is when I find it, ok?''\n\n``Alright, Molly. I look forward to hearing what you find, you know?''\n\nMolly nodded and stepped away. She wasn't sure where she was going, but by the time she was at the entrance of the court again she could hear Rachel's deep voice singing a foreign song. The strings of Arturo's guitar plucked up alongside it, and the flowing music followed her back to the bridge, and each note led her thoughts through what her friend had said.\n\nThere was a chance it really was her imagination, vivid as the song was. No one in the town heard the singing... at least, from those she trusted to ask. She stopped to ask a few others on her way back to her house, but they all had the same answer. Maybe it really was the bogeyman parents warned children about, the singer under the bridge who sung about love and adventure in far-off lands. Perhaps it was that Rachel had the heart of it, that she was unhappy with things here. And it was hard to admit that Rachel was right, that she wanted more than the Village Bridge could provide in its slow, traditional way. \n\nMolly stopped atop the bridge again. Beatrice's cart had moved down to the east slope, and there was no one else passing by. She leaned against the railing and wondered. Was it possible that she had simply made up the voice in an attempt to give herself something more to do than fixing the same roofs and walls of the village every season? Was it really that boring here? \n\nMaybe she was lonely. She looked down at the glittering river, and two Basculin jumped from its glittering blue, only to splash back down and vanish again. She had decided years ago, none of the boys of the village appealed to her. That hand't changed now. She didn't have someone like Rachel's Azumaril, or Beatrices' Heatmor. Maybe it was time to fix that...\n\nWas that what the song was trying to tell her? Another voice in her head wanted to insist she was happy, and she pushed her frustration away with the railing. She turned to walk away, only to find herself snagged by her tail caught on the railing. It couldn't just be her imagination. This had to be something more. It had to be. When Friday came again, she would have a plan. Until then, she would keep her evenings clear. Just in case the song came again at an odd time, an odd place. She would get to the bottom of this mystery. If it was a trick, she would find the source... But even better if it wasn't, she could finally get some answers from the mysterious voice beneath the bridge.\n\nThe week passed in a blur with no answers. Even the anglers who lived and breathed the river were confused when she asked about the mysterious song. The gentleman who ran the bed and breakfast had raised her hopes, but after a few questions it became clear that he had only heard Rachel's voice on the wind. Fixing his window's broken hinge was a quick repair, at least.\n\nMolly pushed her toolbox back into the base of her closet and straightened her denim jacket. The quiet bridge would need no more work, at least not until someone's desk broke, or a roof repaired, but a part of her pondered if she should take them anyways. No, she shook her head to herself, need to overburden herself if she needed to run again.\n\nHer lucky flashlight, though, was an obvious choice. She pulled it from her toolbox and hooked its chain onto her belt. It was a small explorer's light emblazoned with a cowboy's hat... a memory of younger adventures and unknown crooks she had tried to discover around the Village Bridge. She had her C-Gear charged and ready to take a picture... and just imagining the look on Katz and Darrel's faces as she gave them solid proof brought a grin to her muzzle. Especially if it was them behind the matter, but even if it wasn't she wanted to show them she was not just imagining things. \n\nShe pulled a warm jacket over her shoulders and took another look around. That should be everything, right...?\n\n``Oh,'' she murmured, her notebook briefly popping into her thoughts. If she found no answer tonight, she could at least note down the song's melody and the feelings it evoked. It would be better than leaving her notebook in her room by the window where it usually lived, waiting for her to return. She plucked it from its perch, pondering who she might go to that might know the source of the tune. Perhaps, someone in Opelucid City might have an answer? She tucked her book under her arm and her pen into a pocket, then dashed from the house.\n\nTwilight toasted the bridge's bricks in a pleasant orangish hue, a dull orange-purple glow lighting the cloth of Beatrice's pastry stand like a cloth lantern. Though it had long since been cleaned of goods, the sweet scent of pastries lingered lazily on the air alongside subtler hints of flowers from the nearby clearing. The rich thrum of Katz' guitar floated up the river, framing the quieter rustle of river water bubbling downstream and a duller hum of Darrel's gravelly voice. Behind their song was a faint breath of a breeze, carrying far-off Pokemon cries along the bridge to greet her.\n\nIt was perfect weather to linger outside. Cool, clear skies and a pleasant lingering warmth keeping the chill at bay. Her dash slowed to a powerwalk down the bridge, taking the steps one at a time. The bridge was quiet and calm, and the tennis courts were empty as they had been on the night of her frantic flight toward the river. This time, she took a longer path through the gate, and by the time she was again halfway across the villager's songs were drifting off into placid quiet. A few final guitar strums floated on the air as though blown along by the subtle breeze, their fading buzz following the sun to rest.\n\nThe Village Bridge settled into its usual slumbering quiet. Everyone returned home towards their dinner and bed. The only exception would be the rare trainer, but hers were the only paw-falls to sound out around her. She met the river with a curious gaze, first through the bridge then down its stream. No one was there. Not yet, at least.\n\nReason told her they should arrive soon if they were going to arrive. But it felt silly being so early - had the singing started now, the whole town should have heard it. A part of her still hoped to find someone waiting under the bridge, perhaps ready to greet her. All that met her was the splash of a Magikarp in the fading light. \n\nThe quiet hung heavy in the air, an almost smothering blanket of placid calm she had thought she was long used to. Molly found herself pacing, the solid clatter of stone beneath her boots breaking the oppressive silence. Somewhere above, she heard the dull rattle of a bicycle glide past, a midnight traveler unknown in the night. Who were they? She wondered, Were they a trainer? Might they have a partner Pokemon, or more? The cool blue-green water held no answer for her, an almost passive twinkle of moonlight glittering brighter and brighter on the waves around the bridge's central support. Then the cyclist was gone, their rattle replaced by the dull papery rustle of grass and leaves brushing shoulder to shoulder in the dark.\n\nIf she had a Pokemon of her own, a companion... maybe it was time to reconsider her stance on having a trainer's license. That none of the villagers had believed her still stung. She could understand when it came from the trainers and wanderers she didn't know, but her friends, those whose homes and furnishings she had repaired more times than she could count? She pressed her back against the arch of the bridge and slid down the smooth brick wall until her jeans met the cobblestone. She was out of sight beneath the bridge, so the only ones who would see her wrapping her arms about her knees were the river fish.\n\nMaybe the singer was one of the Hoothoot who sometimes roosted on her balcony at night, or... What other options were there? She didn't relish the thought of battling, but the mystery had ignited a strange urge in her heart. \n\nMolly nodded, whiskers bobbing. An adventure would suit her, through the unexplored corners of Unova. How many other unanswered questions lingered? Questions that had been so easily dismissed as the fantasies of girls like her. And...\n\nSplash. A ripple broke the dull reflection of the crescent moon and broke her from her reverie. Across the river, the dull purple glitter of a leaping Magikarp's scales caught her eye, lingering a moment in the air. Then it splashed down again, seeming to bounce into a series of quick, rippling leaps downstream until it vanished.\n\nHours had passed, and it was nearing midnight. Even with the moon hidden out of sight somewhere far above the bridge, its shifting light had moved far enough to tell her she had been here hours rather than minutes. She shifted in her seat, unconsciously leaning in to meet the cool rush of a fresh breeze gusting through the bridge's tunnel. A hum lit the stones around her, its serene, natural voice surging into liquid notes. Somehow even the bridge was a musical instrument when the wind hit it right, and she imagined the trees swaying along to the nameless tune... Her ear flicked as the music swelled, caught in a deeper note, and like a fire had lit beneath her she leapt up.\n\nAs though ignited by the very wind itself, a noble song had begun to hum, quivering in the air over the river. Where was it coming from? It almost sounded like it could have been on the other side of the bridge. Leaping across might take her there, especially as cresting the bridge would take much too long. She was halfway through plotting her path when her thoughts were cast aside by a rushing surge of water bubbling over the water's surface.\n\nA regal blue form emerged from the misty surge, its blunt horn framed by two sweeping swirls. Molly's back hit the bridge's arch, a pinch at her tail all but forgotten as she found herself looking into two glimmering purple eyes. It was a Pokemon... as the water fell from its form Molly's eyes caught the lighter cream of its neck, and the subtler hint of a smile softening its blubbery visage. A few darker blue speckles adorned the creature's cheeks, and she knew others lay turned away from her. Even without spotting its iconic gray shell, she knew the Pokemon. Lapras!\n\nWhile she marveled, the song swelled around her, a victorious thrum of notes. The Lapras's mouth didn't move, but its eyes glowed, and the song seemed to catch and echo from around its presence. Then she felt it, a sudden wordless touch like a breeze rustling straight through her body. It put her fur on end as an inquisitive presence brushed alien emotions and thoughts along her mind. All at once she was aware of the ache of her tail, and how far she was from the shore staring slack-jawed at the towering creature. It was large for a Lapras, and amidst the fading song it opened its mouth to emit an echoing, soulful cry. \n\n``Lapras,'' Molly wondered aloud, then blushed at her obvious statement. The Pokemon cooed, careless of her faux pax, dipping its muzzle down as though trying to make itself seem less threatening. Molly found herself approaching, a flick of her tail idly trying to shake free the pinch that had come from hitting her rear against the bricks. ``You... you must be the one who has been singing.''\n\n``Lah,'' the Pokemon's answer wasn't verbal as much as it was the song winding down as she came close. Lapras nodded its head.\n\n``You... Your voice is so beautiful,'' Molly wondered, a hand brushing over her pocket, over her phone, but she couldn't pull her gaze from the creature's deep, pink eyes. Were those natural for a Lapras? They held so much emotion.... ``But... Why? Why could no one else hear it?''\n\nLapras's eyes just twinkled in the moonlight. It... Her voice swelled around her, an otherworldly hum that was less words than it was a rush of feelings woven into song. Clearer than it had been floating through her window far above, the voice resonated deep into her until it felt as though her bones were quivering along each note. When the Pokemon had crooned at her, that was verbal, but this...\n\n``Psychic?'' Molly wondered, and her question was confirmed by a swelling crescendo of notes. She found herself raising a hand to greet the Pokemon's muzzle as it dipped down to touch her chest. The rush of steamy, fishy air billowing through her top and hair was almost an afterthought as she sorted the puzzle pieces.\n\nLapras's glimmering pink eyes caught hers, and Molly tried to think of something to say. Perhaps the Pokemon would say something back, instead? In legends, Pokemon with psychic abilities almost always communicated with clear telepathic sentences. But this wasn't a legend, and the mouse had never had a chance to be so close with a Pokemon that could use psychic power. Was there supposed to be a voice beneath that feminine croon? Lapras's voice was a tender lilt, almost lapping at her mind like waves. It seemed perfectly in time with the subtle ripples around the river around the transport Pokemon.\n\nLapras's eyes glowed pink, and almost by instinct Molly closed her eyes. She was glad she did - a moment later, a flurry of images washed over her mind, foreign to her memory.\n\nShe saw the Village Bridge lit up by its flickering windows, smoldering firelights seeming to make them dance beneath the magnificent purples, blues, and oranges of a twilight sky. She felt the ghostly sensation of her neck turning, yet it wasn't her neck, it was the remembered image turning to take in the quiet ash forest that sheltered the village. The forest seemed to dance to the lingering gentle song in her mind. The image faded, and another took its place. The village bridge lit by bright sun, houses blending into each other and the bridge below them. The image lingered, then faded into a far-off view of the windswept grasses around the base of the bridge, rustled by the occasional Pokemon and trainer. It was a disorienting rush to shift between images, sometimes watching Pokemon trainers with a curiosity, yet she felt beneath that voice the intimate touch of a feeling... was that a distaste for their lust for power and fame?\n\nHow long had Lapras been watching the people of the Village Bridge? \n\nThe answer came as though she had asked her question aloud. The images spilled together, the sun rising and falling in a blur. Days turned to weeks, weeks became months. Little changed over the seasons - the bridge always looked the same, though occasionally she caught a glimpse of her familiar tail and jacket, or the people she knew visiting the side of the river. She felt a chill down her spine as she found herself reflecting on how little happened... Every day bled into the last, and everything was the same.\n\nQuiet. The Village bridge, the small corner of Unova off the beaten track. The quiet would have been deafening were it not for the reassuring brush of music across her mind, and the glittering, almost understanding gaze of the gorgeous blue creature staring into her. She found herself nose to snout with the Lapras, each warm zephyr of breath rushing in and out around her leaving her fur feeling damp. It was a tether to the present, even amidst the wordless images.\n\nAn image swam to the front of her mind of a curious doorway in the bricks beneath the bridge. A rectangular entrance into pitch blackness, on the western bank. Then two orbs glittered shimmered to life, two glittering eyes peering out of the darkness. The rest of the room was cloaked in shadows... Then a woman's voice she didn't recognize floated down from the bridge above. Sometimes, I hear a song coming from the bridge...Some days it sounds sad and soulful, other days it's a bright, cheery tune... Do you think, it could be a ghost?\n\nMolly didn't recognize the doorway, nor the voice. It made no sense. She had lived here all her life, long enough to have been over and under the bridge hundreds of times and there had never been a doorway in the bricks under the bridge. Yet, it caught her imagination - could there be a secret room under the bridge? Were the old stories true, about a ghostly siren's song luring children from the bridge? She was hardly a child, yet she'd responded to the Lapras's song. Her hand brushed along the rubbery, sleek hide of the Pokemon before her. This was hardly a ghost. But the song she heard had matched what the voice said, the voice of legend.\n\nThe distant hoot of a Noctowl reached her from the trees, and she found herself back in the quiet Village bridge. She stared into Lapras's eyes, searching. A world of experience was buried in those eyes, places and things she had never seen. A flicker of images came again, but this time they were harder to parse. The hint of a great iron and steel bridge bustling with traffic and noise flickered a crisscross of metal beams supporting it, followed by an ancient sandy ruin with harsh flecks of stone bristling swirls over a cliff adorned with sun-like carvings, which faded into an image of a towering city of lights and bright bustling life, then others still too quick to make any sense... until Molly pulled herself back, tail tugging at her ankle.\n\nIt was all too much. She recognized a few of them. Tubeline bridge, the great metal and steel span busy and bustling with traffic, she had seen in pictures. Never from the river below, but it was unmistakable. The city... That had to have been Castelia city, the bustling gem at the heart of Unova. The image of the ancient ruin clung in her mind, lingering with the curious secret door in the Village. What lay beyond that door? Was it still there, just hidden? Had it been built over? There would be evidence, if so... Was it related to the image of ruins? And...\n\nLapras dipped her nose down and nodded. Molly had taken a step back, but she was too overwhelmed to move. No new images came, though. The Pokemon nodded, and in that nod closed the distance to brush her cool blubbery hide against Molly's side. In a single brush of sleek skin, it felt like the cobwebs were lifted off her mind. A rich, vibrant hum escaped that neck, lingering and chiming at the air like a rich flute tugging at the fur behind her ears. A part of her wanted to push the Pokemon away. The images were of things so foreign to the village bridge, things time forgot. But they clung to a hidden, adventurous part of her. That little voice that had wanted to get out and explore, to be more than... carpenter fated to take care of the village Bridge and its selfsame bricks year by year.\n\nHow have I let myself get trapped here? Her thoughts raced, unbidden. How... How can I get out?\n\nThe Pokemon held no answer. Thoughtful pink eyes seemed to listen to her thoughts, an almost motherly gaze peering almost through her. Maybe she could... Then another voice rang in her mind. Her mother's words, How would you make money out on the road all day? A trainer could win their own funding, even as a contest star you'd make more than enough to get by... But you refuse to be either! You can't get by on - \n\nShove. Lapras's nose pushed, and Molly stumbled backwards. ``Hey! What...'' Her ears dropped, ``Y-you can hear my thoughts.'' She looked away, tail tucking down between her legs, ``Of course, I'm sorry.''\n\nSplash! Lapras's flippers pushed the Pokemon from the river, bringing her cream-colored chest up onto the rocky shore. Her eyes glimmered and glittered, rolled her head forward. It was a soothing croon, yet those eyes began to glow. A clear energy taking over them. A tentative hand met Lapras's cheek, and this time a clearer series of images flowed into her mind.\n\nThe watery image of a fisherman flitted into Molly's mind, reeling and wrangling in a Frillish. Then others, similar fishermen and women, seen from underwater. Then Lapras surfaced, the glittering splash of water clouding the image until a beach came into view. A line of swimmers dove into the ocean one after the other towards a far off buoy. The images paused, flickered, and molly took a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Then another image pulled from her memories of Rachel singing while her Azumaril hummed along, tail swaying. Then it shifted, pulling back from her memory into an image from Lapras, down the river to a row of berry trees. \n\nMolly's eyes widened. ``It... It isn't that easy, Lapras. This is... this is my home,'' but even she didn't have any conviction behind that statement. ``I... I have a job. I could leave the Village, but... I don't even have a Pokemon, and I'm no trainer. Where would I sleep, without... How would I even...''\n\nIt was harder and harder to think of a proper rebuttal. Her thoughts went to Rachel... Lapras seemed to take hold of that thought, taking the opportunity to emphasize the image of Molly's house. The tiny collection of rooms, her table with only two chairs. Only on the rarest occasions did she have a guest there - and in recent years it had only been Rachel. Her room upstairs, framed by the small bed and the window she so often kept open so she could let her mind wander out to the forest and beyond.\n\nYet, it was all so small. Was that Lapras's perspective? It wasn't clear, as she realized, she'd thought the very same thought hundreds... no, thousands of times over the years. Then she realized it was - Lapras's flippers would brush against the wall, and she would have to crane her head down to fit even in her parlor, to say little of her room. It was tiny. The sudden pang of sympathy came, and with a jolt she realized it was her own. She wanted more... More than her little mousetrap. She wanted to escape.\n\nWhen the image faded from her mind, she found herself slumping forward as though her muscles had simply stopped. Lapras caught her, the brush of a horn under her arms lifting her up, keeping her from hitting the floor. Here she had someone ready to rescue her...\n\n``C-can you? Take me... take me away from here. Anywhere... please,'' her voice hitched, and the world blurred through tears. Lapras's answer was to catch her, a sudden forward bounce pressing her face into rubbery, surprisingly warm hide. Molly sobbed, pushing her cheek in close. The subtle rushing shift of the Pokemon's breathing, the dull and softly muted drumbeat of her strong heart... and a soothing, rumbling croon, as that long neck dipped down behind her, the faint touch of muzzle tip to the top of her head.\n\nMolly felt the faintest swallow, a flex and flutter. Like a ripple seen through frosted glass, it was subtle and just barely there, rippling down from the top of that long neck. Glp. Her sensitive ears told her what the motion was. Her fur stood on end as an outlandish possibility flitted through her mind. She could... so easily hold me. Take me.... Then I wouldn't have to worry, wouldn't have to be alone... She realized her tail had frozen behind her, and she pulled back to gaze into those rich pink eyes. Calm, cool, glittering softly in reflected moonlight - but there wasn't a glow.\n\nWas that radical thought really her own? She pulled back just far enough until she was nose to nose with Lapras. What did she really have here? Eventually, the village would pressure her to choose one of the unappealing men... And she'd be caught in the same routine. The mysterious, otherworldly song had woken the adventurer she had thought long buried in her... And then those images. There was so much more to the world than there was in the Village Bridge, so much more... right in front of her. It would be the perfect excuse, too... Captured by a Pokemon. She felt her cheeks flush, unsure where the thoughts were coming from, why she felt she could so easily fit into those jaws.\n\n``S-sorry girl, I know y-you -'' \n\nYawn. Lapras jaws gaped wide open, cutting off her stammering apology with a rush of steamy, fishy air rolling through Molly's fur. It pushed at her ears like wind caught in sails, but her gaze was caught deep in the depths of the Pokemon's jaws. A plush, oozing expanse of pink flesh couched Lapras's pillowy tongue, slick streamers of oily saliva connecting a cushy palate to her tongue and conical fangs. Their spacing and blunt nature told her they were more for grabbing than biting... But rather than bite down on her, the broad tongue arched up, lifted from its housing with a squish, almost threatening to brush over her with a lick\n\n``O-oh,'' Molly's cheeks might well have caught fire. Why couldn't she tear her gaze from the fluttering grasp of muscles and heat? Lapras's throat relaxed, letting her glimpse into a sweltering tunnel. Glistening, rich red-black heat leading deeper... only to cinch tightly closed, into a tight kiss. Sqlrch, lrck. A swallow, Lapras's tongue lifted, her jaw's tendons shivering as she kept her mouth wide open and made a show of the process.\n\nTime seemed slowed to a crawl. It felt hours before Molly realized she hadn't said anything, that she had just been staring. Lapras was braced against the shores, but she seemed to bob and sway subtly with the brush of waves against her lower half. The Pokemon could have bit at any time, snapped at her, but instead she had held her jaws agape for the mouse. Instead, they simply hovered in front of her... inviting her mind to wander inwards. Tugged almost as though caught by the swallowing pulse of peristalsis.\n\nMolly had to think. She had to make sense of it all. It felt like she'd found herself again. But even as she tried to clear her mind, the adventurous and blushing spirit reached her hand up. It was almost like it was another person that pressed her hand to the tip of Lapras's proffered tongue. Gush, the slimy, oozing saliva greeted her fingertips and clung like oil, joined by an approving croon that rumbled through her. The Pokemon's voice lit a sonorous song, dappled pink flesh quivering as her hand dimpled into it. She could feel the faintest hint of that pulsing, powerful heart through the flesh... so much clearer than through the protective blubber outside, everything was so much closer, so much more intimate than - \n\nSlrrrck. That strong tongue shoved forward and scattered her thoughts again, taking a clear, firm taste over her, curling around her elbow, stretching up to lap over her shoulder then back. Retreating to get every taste, beneath fur, along her clothes, it all seemed as interesting to Lapras, until that tongue danced over her fingertips and pulled free. Gooey saliva spiderwebbed between her fingers and connected her to the tongue as it came to rest again couched by blunt teeth. It was almost a red carpet, as inviting as the siren's voice. She couldn't see her entrancing pink eyes, but even with the crooning song at rest, each rushing surge of fishy breath and drooling warmth took over, seeming to draw her inwards with each inhale.\n\nEyes closed, Molly pushed herself forward. Ignoring the voice of reason and instinct in the back of her mind that told her in no uncertain terms what she was doing... She had to push her feet from the ground. This was no simple predator in the night, no ravenous, thoughtless beast. At any time, Lapras could have overpowered her, stolen her away from the Village. Since she had surfaced, Molly had been in her flippers. The only `move' the Pokemon had used was her well-placed licks...\n\nSplrt. Her head caught into the tongue, meeting her forwards push with the giving weight of smooth, slimy flesh. It curled around her, squeezed along her cheeks, then unfurled and pushed down along her neck. Molly found her head following the natural incline up, lifted into the squishy squeeze as a bassy murmur expressed the Pokemon's delight over her flavor. Molly could only breathe the oozing, fishy scent around her, its steamy zephyr urging away the natural chill of the outside world. A burning kernel of heat ignited in her chest by the swiping curl of Lapras's tongue, each breath a steamy cascade tugging at the air around her. It was overwhelming, made it impossible to think. Her ears flicked. A dull drumbeat quivered on the edges of her ears, the fairest hint of the gentle heart hidden somewhere in that yearning, heated core. \n\nA subtly acrid fishy tang hung on her fur, glazed into her by another lifting curl. Fishy, clinging saliva matted her coat, and the faint tease of blunt teeth combed the top of her head, and yet she found herself resisting the muscle's shove. Her head wound up diving into the cushy valley at the core of Larpas's plush muscle, lifting thoughtlessly into its attentive kiss. Molly took a deep breath, and the queer mix of stale breath and fishy heat sent a confusing shudder through her body. Confusion pricked her mind enough to draw her eyes open again. She was in a Pokemon's mouth, being tasted over like a delicious fish. What would happen to her?\n\nYet, she reached her hands up to press her palms into the broad curves of that tongue. Just along the edge where they lay covering Lapras fangs, where blubbery cream-colored lips framed those jaws. Something about the Pokemon made it impossible to listen to her instincts. Rational thought muddied, like her mind was covered with as thick a coat of sticky drool as her fingers were. Her touch dimpled into vivid flesh, rubbing and massaging up and in. She reached up, finding herself longing to feel more, longing to embrace that muscle as close as it so clearly wanted to embrace her. Dully, she knew that her touch was only smearing her flavor into each taste bud. Somehow that only encouraged her to burrow in closer, push and compress the muscle with a hot splutter of chin until her cheeks were burning. \n\nLapras murmured, a muted, musical croon. Molly imagined the Pokemon couldn't resist when her head bobbed forward, when those jaws twitched in a subtle possessive flex. It was a dream, it had to be. No wild Pokemon should act this way... She opened her eyes, though whether it was to wake herself, or reassure herself, her thoughts stalled in their tracks looking into the glistening twinkle of Lapras's throat. Clench. The muscles rippled, fluttered and squeezed in a deep-seated want, all while the Pokemon's tongue lifted, curled around her chest, slipped over her shirt. \n\nHer shoulders fit perfectly into that gape, the natural push taking her whiskers closer and closer to the back of Lapras's tongue, hardly even reaching to the outermost edges. Were those jaws to close around her, they wouldn't even touch her sides - she would just be trapped. Caught like a Magikarp along the dull inward pointing fangs that were designed to keep prey from escaping.\n\nPrey.\n\nThe word caught and stuck in her mind like a burr. Was that all she was? Her tail tangled, a twinge and shudder at her core. Ragged breaths caught at the sweltering blanket of fishy breath. The growing heat, desire in her... it had to be a trick, an illusion. A spark ignited by a trick, a psychic tug at her mind. She couldn't actually want - Glruck, Lapras cut her off with a swallow. A radiant display of the power of those muscles cinching down over so much nothing, flaring closed into a seal tight enough to crush a blueberry, not a glimpse of the passage beyond. Her whiskers folded, telling her how easily she would fit into that space, into that desire, the sputtering spray of saliva misting her cheeks. Lapras wanted her. But...\n\nSo why wasn't she biting down? Her jaws hung, open wide around her. Molly pulled back, lifted from the tongue, strands of saliva connecting her to the muscle. Just beyond the brink, Lapras's throat quivered and relaxed, opening again as though to call her back and lure her inward. But the Pokemon made no motion to stop her. It would be easy to stop it, to let her fear pull her from those jaws. She could listen to the wise words of the village and let adventure pass her by...\n\nMolly all but dove back into the tongue. A push refusing to let her choice be taken from her by words that weren't even her own. A wordless knead, tugging her thumbs into the Pokemon's flesh, encouraging it to slip along her body and catch her. No. She wouldn't pull away. Somehow, this Pokemon... this wild Pokemon was so much more than anyone else she had ever met. Her predator. Lapras had chosen her, to free her from the trap the village had become. \n\n``G-go on,'' Molly stammered. Her eyes closed, fighting back the fear, the quiver of her voice, even as her tail curled and tugged around her angle. A firm squeeze fighting down the urge to thrash about. She wanted to say more, but her words only came out as a little squeak, muffled and caught on the cushy expanse of hungering jaws all around her. Rational, reasonable instincts screamed at her. The muscles in her legs tightened, her heart caught in her chest. \n\nLapras simply lowered her head. Her tongue lifted into a steady, encouraging roll beneath Molly's chest, hiking up her shirt and slathered her sides. Was it a parting taste, savoring her flavor... Or was it meant to soothe her panic? Molly quivered. She fought with her instincts, told herself to stand taller, jump in, anything, but her legs refused to respond. Lapras made the move for her. Her head rolled down and eclipsed the outside world with the rushing, surging waves of her gulletflesh. Calm for a heartbeat, on the brink of the storm, before lifting her up as easily as she would a trainer to ferry across the sea, before-\n\nUlgck! Lapras's throat collapsed around Molly's head, rolling muscles into her cheeks and squishing her ears flat against her skull. Dragged down, powerful suction tugged her out of view of the light, the only glimmer replaced with oozing red-black heat grinding into her features. Strong as it was it lifted her cheek, pulled her shoulders into the Pokemon's throat, tugged and insisted she sink down into the long slide down Lapras's regal, creamy neck. Until as quickly as it started it relaxed, trembling flesh stretching around her. Even after that powerful predatory swallow, the Pokemon relaxed her neck, opened her jaws again, pulling fresh, clear air in alongside her. It was so cold, compared to the sauna-like grasp of Lapras's throat, she managed a forward wriggle.\n\nSlqrtch. Her ear twitched, the slimy push of folds oozing past her face, shifting against the press of her hands slithered into her senses. Molly realized, the Pokemon had paused her swallows - the inching, sinking sensation was just the weight of her own body, of gravity encouraging her deeper. Her toes curled, and she remembered her clothes, her shoes. A brief, embarrassed blush wriggling against the weighted blanket of throat clasping around her. There was a faint, muffled croon of curiosity as she hooked behind one shoe... and kicked it off. The other followed shortly after, the clatter of their soles on the ground. Even then, the Pokemon held her swallows at bay. Instinctive twitches, twinges, subtle ripples easing Molly a bit deeper one inch at a time... And then she realized, the Pokemon was letting her decide. She hadn't even thought, hadn't had a second thought. Even well past what should have been the point of no return, the Pokemon cared, let her decide.\n\nMolly pushed her bare paws into Lapras's tongue, and she pushed. Where the sudden brave strength had come from, where the sudden urge to shove herself deeper towards the abyssal depths calling out so needily for her, she couldn't say and couldn't think. Instead, thought was crushed out of her by the pressing furl of muscles, strong as iron yet soft as a mattress driving her downwards in a singular, concussive glrck!\n\nThe squishing press of flesh into her senses smeared Lapras's heartbeat firmer into her senses. The rolling, tugging weight dragged her back, over the arching cliff of the Pokemon's tongue, all restraint seeming to melt from Lapras's body with another low gulck. The mouse could hardly move, let alone squirm, between the squeezing, rolling weight of muscles smearing into her body and the oozing, slimy waves of peristalsis easing her along. Slimy, fishy muscles cupped her hips, a faint twinge yielding and letting them slide through. The Pokemon's jaws so easily eclipsed her thighs, as natural as if the Lapras were swallowing down a fish. \n\nBlubber creaked all around her, inches away from her as that creamy neck swelled to allow her passage. Molly could picture her feet slipping up, caught in the tongue's lifting spoon and shoved eagerly past the blunt wall of fangs with a lazy snap of jaw... and only then realized she'd been pulled up off the ground, ankles tangled with her tailtip. Everything from her whiskers, down her arms and to her ankles had been caught up, pulled from the ground seemingly without a second thought from her predator. She felt each furl of flesh giving, stretching around her, only to yield and let her sink downward. \n\nMolly shivered, her eyes closed. Anxious springs wound tight until she unleashed her anxiety into the muscles around her with a swimming lurch of her back. She was the meal, the Magikarp plucked from a river and swallowed down. She imagined one of her friends looking across the river to the Lapras basking in the moonlight. Would her swell be obvious, a jumble of curves and clearly wriggling, when she pushed? Molly pushed her arms outward, only to wince as her hands gushed through slimy, smooth flesh and a reflexive swallow shoved her limbs back in, insisting on dragging her down, pulling her body and straining hrer along the subtle, regal curve deeper into Lapras's body. For a moment, the muscles grabbing her pressed into her thighs, dragged into her curves, strained and squished into her in a way that made it feel like the heat all around her wasn't just from the great heart, that dull drumbeat soaking into her, then the moment broke with another swallow.\n\nHer legs kicked, every instinct in her body calling out for her to fight free of her predator, fingers digging into the rubbery walls with no purchase at all. She had to get out, had to get free, or else she -\n\nULGCRK! Lapras's muscles reacted instinctively to Molly's squirms, her struggling push. Splattering and gushing into her body, fighting down the dull, neat imprints she had been making in favor of a much more streamlined bulge. Sinking what felt like meters at once, the acrid tang of Lapras's thick and fishy diet bore the breath from her lungs and dragged her down. It was an overbearing hug, the creaking squeeze hitching her progress after that powerful swallow. Everything seemed to lock up around her, and in her numbed, panicked state the mouse almost felt herself gaining purchase. Lifting up into the muscular passage, spiderwebbing saliva gushing and clinging to her sodden fur as she made progress backwards.\n\nMolly hung there, feeling the subtle sway of the Pokemon's neck.... Then a croon began. A soft, reverberant quake soaking into her body, the Lapras's voice rich and melodic, questioning as she felt the muscles squeeze, shiver. Each instinctive flutter of gullet grabbing and pulling at her, legs down to head fighting futilely to pull her deeper, yet... Lapras's neck refused to give and let her deeper, and she made no progress.\n\nWhat happened? Am I too much? Molly blinked. The frustration in that thought surprised her, her cheeks feeling warmer. No, Lapras bent her neck, she's... she's stopped swallowing me. Then it registered to her. She had started to struggle. She had resisted the Lapras in her fretful fear, and even as she hung there, she felt her body urging her to thrash. It was all she could do to keep herself from lashing out her limbs, powerless as they felt wrapped up in Lapras's throat. \n\nHer eyes closed tight, little lights blossoming against the panicked fear in her chest. Every nerve in her body called for her to struggle against the Pokemon's grasp, caught in the slimy oozing fingers of the next possessive tug. The natural flexing press of muscles seemed to crush the thought from her, pull and drag at each breath. Every muscle clearly wanted to swallow her down, hungered for her. Thmp, thmp, interspersed with the bounding beat of that massive heart, stirred up in a clear mix of excitement, and... gentle care. Lapras had stopped for her. \n\nI want her to take me, Molly reassured herself, a quieter voice calling out that she knew exactly where this led. Yet like the Lapras had stopped her throat itself, Molly tamped down her struggles. She took a deep breath, straining against the smothering muscles that fought to keep her collected. Despite her self-assurance, she couldn't stop her tail's fitful lashing, that small betrayal of true fear... But she found herself rolling her shoulder, turning her chest and pushing up... Though up was down, down into the Lapras's abyssal depths, it wasn't much of a movement. Even from without, only subtly distending the Pokemon's creamy neck, but she hoped her predator would understand. Another wriggle, a shimmy, this time fighting forward. Take me, she urged. Please don't listen to my fears.\n\nHow could she communicate that to the Lapras? Whenever she moved, whenever she squirmed waves of pressure clasped and clamped down, pushing her muzzle closed, lifting into her chest. Each concussive wave of muffling flesh swallowed her sounds and blunted her squeaks. Whenever Molly felt she could get purchase, the ever-shifting flesh collapsed and pushed her hands down to her sides again. Maybe... she squirmed, then caught herself, held her instincts that told her to struggle and push. Maybe it didn't have to be an action? \n\nShe willed herself to breathe in, fighting the compressive and possessive squeeze of gulletflesh around her chest. A voice in her mind screamed, its voice fluttering in the gale rush of her beating heart, telling her to kick and wriggle free, but she silenced it with a squelching squish of her ear into the yielding muscles all about. That frightful voice, the fitful fear wasn't her. It reared up again, the dull voice calling for her to strike out, break free... then, the thought stalled.\n\nBreak free to what? Sudden strength welled up in her chest, and her eyes opened into the slick, glittering red-black darkness of Lapras's throat. Back to the boring day-to-day life of the bridge? Would she really let her fear win, again? The claustrophobic, clinging grasp of fishy, slimy flesh squeezing down into her was somehow infinitely more freeing. Her tail lashed - for a moment she'd forgotten how deep she was, only to find itself caught against muscles, flicking up its tip just barely in the pokemon's jaws, along her feet, met by the almost loving curl of that broad, supple tongue.\n\nThe world around her stilled, but for the quivering heat of flesh wrapped around her. Then, after a heart-pounding few moments measured by the slow pulse around her, a querying croon murmured up around her. Lapras's muscles rippled instinctively, fighting the dipping kink in her neck that kept Molly from sliding deeper. There was only one way to answer the question, with her words silenced in smothering flesh and fishy heat. Molly kicked her way forward, pushing against the open air to try to burrow her way past the too-tight flesh. It was like trying to dive under the covers of her bed freshly made, tucked beneath her mattress - an impossible task unless something gave, especially when everything was so slippery, gushing against her limbs and squishing into her sides. Every push seemed only to squish her in place, until-\n\nGlrck. The world spun around her, her stomach dropped out from under her, and everything seemed to tumble as Lapras finally understood. Slimy, oozing muscles rippled and flexed over Molly, scrunching around her body and tugging her down as that tight, abyssal tunnel yielded just enough to allow her through. An urgent rush of flesh squished around her, dragging her deeper and deeper in. Flesh wrapped around her hips, tugged her over the brink and past the glimmering, moonlit river beneath the Village Bridge. Another toss jostled her around, yet this time secure, tight flesh kept her from whipping about, swelling waterproof blubber shielding her from the chill of the outside world. She imagined she could feel the moment she broke the surface of the frigid water and into the deepest depths of the seafaring Pokemon's body.\n\nThere was only a hint of blunted fangs grabbing her ankles, holding her steady, then a practiced shove upwards. Gone was any hesitation, replaced by ravenous and needy desire. Ulgck, Lapras was devouring her, pure and simple. Molly's heart fluttered, tail lashing as though it could somehow escape the clenching waves of her fleshy cave, but all connection to the outside world was lost.\n\nNoisy, heavy swallows cascaded into her sensitive ears. Each one left her head swimming, powerful and ceaseless pressure rushing down her legs, squishing her arms to her sides, smearing and flattening her ears down. So close into the flesh she could hear the moment she passed Lapras's heart, the heavy pulse stamping into her spine, pressing down into her with each new surge of life. It was so close, so nearby, yet so far away as each drumbeat seemed to spread into the blanketing coat of muscles and slime smearing her fur down. \n\nMolly felt her clothes clinging to her body, the oozing weight dragging her down almost as effectively as each swallow. Should she have disrobed? Did that even matter anymore? Her feet passed the thick, heavy base of the Pokemon's tongue and joined her as she felt gushing, swelling flesh close over her. She'd already been hidden from the world, but the finality of that swallow shoving her downwards only punctuated the moment. A momentary imagining of her swell crossed her mind, dulled curves on display through the creature's neck, each wave and swallow squishing her down only to swell out again. In the red-black darkness, the squelching, cloying envelope of flesh her mind wandered, guided by wave after wave of almost crushing muscles right back into the sauna-like heat surging to push her deeper.\n\nQuaking flesh stirred her from her wandering mind. Lapras was moving, the muddied hint of water breaking over fins a far off realization through so many layers of flesh - glrrruck! Demanding pressure crashed over her ears, a surging tidal wave of a ravenous swallow shunted her down and around that last bend. It started from her feet, but her body seemed to keep moving into a gushing splotch. A wet splatter met smeared her cheek into a tight ring of muscular flesh, a slimy, fleshy kiss greeting her with an almost loving care. She had only a moment to contemplate the final portal int Lapras's gut, aftershock swallows squishing her whiskers to her cheek, pressing her in against it. It felt much too tight, her whiskers told her, right up into the moment when it gave, gushed past her face. Instincts lit aflame. Deep inside her mind was telling her she would fit perfectly through that ring of malleable muscle, a realization only stoked by the groaning, grumbling hunger greeting her. Her body twisted, only to meet another, almost reassuring wave of muscles.\n\nDid Lapras think her no more than a fish? It felt like she could only manage a distressed flopping, even as the Pokemon's stomach greeted her with open folds, met her cheek with a squish of pillowy, steamy flesh. It was a tender kiss compared to the almost crushing heat of gulletflesh squeezing her in. Muscles fluttered up into her, a jostling jolt along her chin as everything rolled in, grabbed around her and pulled in along the next swallow. Cascading gulletflesh shoved her into Lapras's belly all at once. Coherent thoughts scattered like a wave breaking over rock, buffeted into the squishy, slimy, mind-numbing squelch slathering and gushing into her. Chest, arms, hips, legs. One moment she was stretched out along a long, sleek neck and the next she was packed into a too-tight bundle.\n\nWithout even thinking about it she pushed her footpaws out, only to meet the cinching flex of muscles closing behind her. No purchase to be found, nor it seemed like any hint of where she came from. Only cushy, squishy muscles, the slimy heat of flesh smothering into her like a weighted blanket too heavy to lift. Still, she tried, as though she could push it off as simply as she might toss aside bedding. Her hands pushed into the flesh, only to slither and slide between folds, the kicking push of her legs only sending her into a tumble, only to thrash into another frog-kick. Thick, powerful muscles and cushy fat absorbed every blow, every motion. Giving just enough to let her feel her confines, yet never enough to offer her any true purchase.\n\nSplrtch, a clenching wave squeezed down into her, closing and collapsing walls wadding her into a so-much-tighter space than it'd seemed rushing in. Then, calm. The ravenous struggle of swallowing her stilled, into a slimy, slathering caress of almost-tender flesh. The not-far-off heartbeat pulsed above her, a subtle flutter to its cadence speaking of lingering excitement in her predator's core. Aftershock squeezes and subtle, shimmering waves of peristalsis rolled wet, oozing warmth into every inch of her body. Lapras was getting used to her... Where was she going? Everything rose and fell around Molly.\n\nWorry and doubt nibbled into her, each step of stomach folds rolling and kissing into her making her think of the bridge, what the others might say. Yet, each time she seemed to worry about what others would think of her abandoning her duties, Lapras's stomach compressed and squitched heavily into her body. A smothering wave silencing anxious thoughts at their source. Instead replaced with the reality of muscles pushing her into a tighter ball, pushing her head between her legs and smearing torrid flesh into every crook of her body. Danger fluttered across her mind, and yet... she found her kicks subsiding. She had wanted this, she reminded herself. Desperate heat oozed into her, rolled over her mind. Not a sound of discomfort had left the Lapras, despite her mindless shoves. I did it, she realized. Doubt crept into her. I gave myself to her. After how many years, I'm going into the unknown...\n\nGlrrrn, hungry gutflesh bubbled up around her, a merry groan lifting and rolling along her cheeks, flexing a moment tighter, before finally relaxing, relenting. Letting up, only to squeeze again as a natural orchestra of the Pokemon's body all around her. Subtle creaks and shifts far off mixed with the muted billow of Lapras's lungs. What would it be like, her first adventure? Would it hurt? A voice in the back of her mind told her that she was in a ferocious beast's stomach, that she had to escape, yet that same ferocity left her cheeks with a confusing warmth. Squeeze, flex, glrck, each gush of flesh was a light, lazy roll that pushed down into her body and folded over her in the dull bob and sway of the river that carried Lapras away. \n\n\tViscous, slimy heat nearly made her forget the frigid chill of water that had to be just on the other side of her confine. A thin, slimy puddle pooled around her, lapping light gushes at her shoulders, met her and squished along her. She'd ended up on her back in her struggles, she realized, looking up. It was impossible to tell in the darkness until she followed the oozing drizzle of fluids behind her. Clench.\n\nShe struggled, a fitful and fretful push of her hands dimpling into snug flesh around her. Lapras's muscles yielded enough to let her press outwards, into crooks between folds and stretch out enough that she imagined she might be visible, were Lapras's underbelly not hidden beneath waves. Yet after a few inches it was a solid wall of muscle, a restrictive layer of blubber and thick heat squelching between her fingers. Worse, when she dug her heels in and pushed her feet into the stomach, the muscles spasmed and pressed in with a reflexive scrunch. What was once giving, lightly yielding flesh insisted she curl back up, a crushing wave that collapsed all around her forcing her back into a ball even tighter than the first few squeezes. Mixed with a hungry glrrrble of sluicing fluids filling her crevices, oozing into her body and bare fur. It reached everywhere, it-\n\nWait, she realized, eyes widening as though it might help in the darkness, my clothes...? With her arms clamped to her sides, it was a herculean task to move and check, but her hands slid over her sodden, damped fur. Thick, rich slime met her fingertips, and for the first time as she focused on herself, she felt a nibbling tingle bristling along her hide, especially her feet, hands, and cheeks which hadn't been covered before. Lapras was digesting her... not just that, but her clothes had already melted. Had it not only been a few moments? Time seemed to be immaterial, besides the dull tempo of the Pokemon's heartbeat drumming above her. The steady grumble and gurgling heat surrounding her swallowing every other noise behind its eager intent. The minutes bled together, though when she focused on that heartbeat it was easier to realize... her mind was wandering, aided by the reassuring, desirous gush cushioning and rubbing into her from every angle. A hitch rolled beneath her, lifted her up and pressed her into the ceiling of that chamber in a yielding kiss of pillowy muscles. Her fear was a dull voice in the back of her head, a candle in a thunderstorm unable to reach her limbs with its light.\n\nPulsing flesh lapped at her, cresting her body with grumbling slime. The sticky trickle of thick hunger alit her from every angle. Pushed her left, then right, into another pining squeeze that begged to claim every inch of her body for the Lapras. All beset by that great, calming heartbeat. Somehow, it was right, perhaps despite the screaming instincts that still brought her to distressed little kicks. Molly belonged, for once, in this place she had chosen. There was no denying she had, she'd urged the Lapras to take her. Fizzling heat suffused itself into her body, a dull soft ache beneath the bristling squeeze. It was intimate, body to body, feeling her predator cling and squeeze into every inch of her body, every motion belonging to Lapras alone, oozing from her back, squeezing along her rear, tail, legs, sides, all the way up to her head once more.\n\nShe gave a half-hearted push, shoving herself through the swampy mixture pooling around her, a dull slorsh... only to find a different tickle clinging to her palm. Fur. Molly squeaked, but her voice felt quieter as it resounded across the spongy flesh. A dull quaver, a soft ripple muted even further by the embrace of water around her predator. She kicked and pushed, shoving herself forward with her legs and twisted herself about. Stirred from her steamy stupor, from the hungry quelling squeeze of each too relaxing churn and flex of muscles, the mouse panicked. Trying to find the right angle to push herself upwards only to meet the impenetrable ceiling of the Pokemon's belly. Curling in on herself again, as her ears were pushed to her head. Where was the entrance? She had to escape, had to get out, it had to be nearby-\n\nGlrptch, Lapras's muscles fluttered and drove her back down. Reflexively responding to her struggles and pushing her grasp down, her paws slipped and slid across the slimy folds of flesh, and she lost her footing. Molly's head nearly knocked into her knees, the powerful vice clamp insisting she stay, belong, and digest. Acrid, stifling, oppressive waves and thick heat pressed to her and kept the muscles from squeezing flush into her. That fishy, heated air was offering a dull layer of protection with nowhere to go... until she felt it. A subtle scrunch of muscles irised open at the small of her back, far beyond where she had guessed it would be, then a quaking rumble quivered her confines as the Pokemon belched.\n\nFlesh quaked all around her, turning into a clamping and grinding squeeze of sodden flesh that devoured all the extra space she'd once had. It felt like every morsel of air was shoved free of her slimy home. The too-tight entrance at far the wrong angle to push back through, though she tried to push herself about, slither and shimmy her way towards it, Lapras's body was adept at keeping a thrashing meal down. Then it was gone, closed before her. It didn't' stop her struggle, turning herself to get an angle to press her palms to that opening, though everything felt hotter, thicker, each movement was so much harder, like crawling her way through thick molasses without a single foothold besides the cradling, hungry folds all too eager to catch her when she fell. Then it was over, and she was left simmering, head swimming, little bot rolling flesh greeting her from every side.\n\nGentle as Lapras had been, the Pokemon's stomach was relentless. No thought in its instinctive attendance over Molly's body, and no new air came down to greet her as each muscle churned and pushed into her. A lifting, tight squeeze pulling across her body, dragging the dull, numbing heat across her flesh. Each squeeze felt rougher, firmer, as though her predator's body could feel her yielding and losing strength. There was almost a dull bite of acidic heat, yet... everything felt pliant, softer, stickier. Thick and clinging, her limbs seeming to meet and twist easier and easier with each radiant lurch squishing into her. \n\nEscape... dull panic pulsed in her mind, found strength in her to push and twitch into the flesh. How, how had she let it come so far? What was she thinking when...\n\nBefore she could get lost in her panic, a resonating thrum soaked through the clinging flesh all around her. A familiar trill soaked into the world around her... the humming, crystalline tone of Lapras's voice on the air, singing the song of the river. The same haunting tune that'd caught at her mind and pulled her into this adventure draped curtains across the world. This time, though, it had a thicker tenor, an almost celebratory trill and upward swing to its notes. From forlorn lonesomeness, into a swooping churn... the muscles around her reassuring her tumultuous and lightheaded panic. If she hadn't seen the Lapras's self-control firsthand, she might have termed it a siren's song meant to lure unwary prey away. Yet, each note was a reminder of Lapras's own hesitance. It would have been easy to grab and devour a mouse lured astray... A single ice beam to someone with not a Pokemon to her name, a surf washing her off the shore...\n\nHer muscles relaxed. She let the tides of Lapra's belly guide her back into a curl, curtains of flesh that pressed her into a snug bundle. Beneath the covers, lost in a fantastical adventure... Yet it was so much more real in each glrrrgling gush of wet, oozing flesh cinching tighter. She didn't need to go anywhere, be anywhere besides where she was... Lapras would take care of her. Squeeze, churn, her fear was tamped down to a single smoldering mote buried beneath thick inches of weighty and reassuring flesh.\n\nRed-black heat cinched down around her and pressed and smothered into her body, and the dull lap of river waves outside was droned out by the dull beating pulse of the Pokemon's heartbeat. Molly's senses frayed, frazzled, feeling like cut wires tingling with electrical energy at each nerve-tip, eased and pressed where she belonged by the constant collapsing flexes that clenched down into her. She should have feared her situation, some dull part of her wit told her, but all worry had fled her in the face of the almost reassuring dance of stomach muscles touching, pressing, squeezing her in time to Lapras's lulling song. Every inch of her bare body was alit with the bristling joy. Questions quieted, her fretful squirms and lashing tail grew heavier, heavier, until finally, she burrowed in. In her mind an image of her whiskers pressed into the Pokemon's flesh, pushed into the groaning crooks of her core, and she finally drifted into blackness.\n\nOutside, a puff of chilly air rushed from Lapras's maw, her eyes lidded as she focused on her mouse's last few moments. Then the frigid air became steam with a rich belch, and she felt her meal give in and yield to the consuming squeezes. A small cloud of sticky white enzyme-soaked fur escaped and floated down to land amidst the subtle waves of Route 11's River. The village bridge glittered far off in the north, couched by the trees where it crossed the river, but it was a far-off memory. Her mouse was free... and her belly was full of a treat beyond compare. \n\nWeek after week, she'd heard the mouse's plaintive thoughts... now the anxious creature was hers. Free from fear, free from expectations that had caged her adventurous spirit. Lapras opened her eyes again, beholding the widening mouth of the river as it met the ocean. Together, they would become a legend.\n\nThe village stirred with rumor as dawn broke over it, its hushed tale of the ghostly songstress willowing tendrils into innocent ears from beneath the bridge. A beautiful voice, rich with emotion that tugged people from their beds and into the dead of night. Away and into another world entirely, elders warned their children, beware of the song when it came. Lest they, too, vanish into the night.\n\n  PAGE   \\* MERGEFORMAT  2 \n\nSecret Song of the Bridge\n\nBy Emberell\n\n  PAGE   \\* MERGEFORMAT  2 \n\n",
  "writing_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>An eerie voice tugged at the wind, echoing its wordless song across the placid rooftops of the Village Bridge. In the shimmering, cool-blue glimmer of moonlight it almost seemed to fall like rain from the pillowy clouds. Molly found herself staring into the dark, tracing the treetops again as the mysterious voice returned precisely on schedule.<br /><br />The mouse had to remind herself that music in the ancient bridge-bound town was not an unusual occurrence. Musicians of every kind brought their colorful voices and instruments to the natural music of the bridge. Everything from the dull tambour of drums to the bright twang of guitar might float through her porthole of a window. Molly&#039;s sharp murine ears let her pick up even the subtler hums and quieter voices that drifted atop the placid river as it bubbled beneath the flowing arches of the bridge. Even without her sharp ears, though, it was impossible not to appreciate the natural amphitheater of the thick ash and oak trees that framed the cool water and soft brick housing.<br /><br />Her mousey tail swished, unbidden as it followed the enchanting voice on the air. It was hard to believe it was simply a voice as its sonorous notes arched into a reverberant flute. It made her ears shiver, and her bones quiver as though vibrating to the strum of each rise and fall of the song. Tonight&#039;s song hummed in the air like quavering crystal, each note painting unseen lights into the sky. The song was a shimmering tapestry in her mind, painting colorful stars and shimmering curtains just out of reach outside her window.<br /><br />Every Friday night the same singer returned, ever since the first night the song had woken her two months back. The voice was bright and feminine, its swaying vibrato too perfect to be Katz. The young beaver was a skilled singer, certainly, but his voice simply had never met that pitch, nor did he have the experience that could match that forlorn, cold tone. A lonesome, longing song, it touched something inside Molly that made her want to leap up, find its source, and reassure it. <br /><br />The worst part of it was that none of the other villagers could tell her where the voice came from. The closest she ever came to an answer was from the eldest in the village who spoke of the mysterious voice under the bridge that reached out to snatch children who thought of leaving the ancient bridge and their families. Of course, they argued, no one else could hear the song. It was a sign that she should redouble her attention to her work as a carpenter. But how could everyone miss something so soulful? <br /><br />The lamplight seemed to dance with the song, swaying the shadows of her books and papers on the wall behind her desk. It was as though everything around her was shivering to face the song, like cobwebs stirred aside by a sudden hopeful zephyr. It was only when Molly read the same sentence of her book for the third time that she realized she had stalled, her attention fully listening to song. Finally giving up on her reading she fetched her bookmark only to find she had barely started the chapter. Had she been waiting for the song to return? She should have known she wouldn&#039;t be able to concentrate on the story if the singer were to return as they had every Friday night prior... The voice tugged at her imagination, made her heart skip with the promise adventure, something more than just the dusty old brick of the ancient bridge.<br /><br />Molly pushed away from the table, her chair creaking as she stood and walked to the window. From there she could take a finer look out along the forest, a dull silhouette in the moonlight only disturbed by the flitter of nocturnal Pokemon flitting to and from their nests. Could they hear the song too? A part of her wanted to believe they stirred hearing the siren&#039;s song and like her were trying to find its source. Wasn&#039;t that just fanciful thinking, though? Such a beautiful song couldn&#039;t have been the product of her imagination, not when it spoke of things she had only dreamed of experiencing. The trees nodded in the wind, caught in the swelling tune. Their dance rustled and swayed with the beat until the melody quieted, and they seemed to still again.<br /><br />Could someone from the village be playing an elaborate trick on her? That was an unlikely proposition. Sure, Katz and her neighbor Darrel would have loved to take credit for making her wonder so, but they didn&#039;t have the patience to keep up the charade for months. One of them would have at least dropped a hint about it by now!<br /><br />The simplest answer was that no one in the village was awake so late on a Friday night to hear the song. Was that a reasonable explanation? Molly pushed her window open, its carefully maintained hinge hardly breathing a sound as she leaned over to try to catch a glimpse of the shadowy riverbank below. But the shadows were impenetrable. Her house was higher from the river than those of her neighbors, but it was closer to the water than any besides the one directly across from her, or across to the other side of the bridge. <br /><br />Maybe... Enough maybes! She braced a hand on her hip and her tail stabbed toward the ground. The soft cushion of her carpet kept it from hitting solid wood, but her thoughts were on the source of the mysterious song. She whirled from the window and snatched her hooded cloak from its stand beside the table. With a hasty toss over her shoulders, she skipped down the stairs two at a time. It took a shake of her head to get her mousey ears into the slots of her hood, but that was an afterthought as she darted across the room without sparing a glance to her kitchenette.<br /><br />As soon as her polished oak door swung open the song hit her with a trilling surge of notes that made her totter. Quieter, perhaps, as she was closer to the center of the bridge and the sound was shaped by the archways and echoed back from the trees to reach her... but the voice was still just as strong in her ears. It told her whoever was singing was beneath the bridge, their voice carried by the gentle breeze that tugged at her cloak as though beckoning her onward. She hardly registered the aged creak of her door closing behind her as she pondered the rich serenade, and the bridge around her. <br /><br />The oil lanterns danced as though conducted by the voice, swelling to each rise then lilting as the tempo quieted again. Above, the stars were a gorgeous glitter peering down at her swaddled in the fluffy blue-gray clouds. A waxing moon caught the shadows around the warm yellow orange of the lanternlight, illuminating the rooftops os the village set into the bridge. Even the nocturnal Pokemon were quiet, each she imagined listening to the song from their hidden perches.<br /><br />Molly let out a breath she hadn&#039;t realized she was holding. It caught her heart and held her as still as the quiet buildings around her, drinking in the crystalline voice with a faint ear twitch. Somehow, it sounded like it was all around her, its echoing voice, but she was sure it was coming from beneath the bridge, and... to the south? The notes rolled off each of the bridge&#039;s arches and seemed to be everywhere, but she knew it well enough to follow. The song felt louder tonight, clear enough to reach beneath her fur and make it all stand on end.<br /><br />She tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders to keep it secure as she jumped over the bricks. The arch of the bridge was a gentle slope, but she let it carry her momentum downwards in a small rush. Was it a trainer from the city to the West? Was it perhaps instead a musician perfecting their craft? The voice seemed so polished that the latter seemed a silly proposition. The voice could have been a superstar at Pokestar Studios without even trying!<br /><br />Cool night air whipped through her white fur, and she realized she was running. It pulled her cloak open around her sides, and though it wasn&#039;t really that cold out the haunting song made her long for its added warmth. She slowed at the last few steps down, keeping to the sloped brick to the side of the bridge&#039;s stairs as she pulled her cloak back around her and clasped its buttons together. Snap. The sound was almost startling, amid the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind, and for a moment she feared the singer might hear her and flee. <br /><br />Quickly, now, quickly. The voice hadn&#039;t faltered, but Molly didn&#039;t want to miss it as she caught her tail around one of the twinkling streetlamps and used it as an anchor to preserve her momentum around the side of the bridge. The soft gras brushed along her boots, leaving them damp as the wordless song soared into a climactic series of notes. <br /><br />No time to follow the white fence to the gate - she pressed a hand between the bar between two posts and vaulted it into the tennis court&#039;s grassy field. She stumbled onto her knee, her fur and hand left damp and wet as she caught herself and pushed back up. The transition from grass to soft court tiling only helped her get back up to speed as she made for the gate opposite. <br /><br />Despite her rush, the song found its final few notes, a forlorn farewell to that surging climax that had her heart pounding. The chill breeze along her damp fur was an afterthought, a leap over the line at the center without even thinking that its net wouldn&#039;t be there. The river was quiet, an almost eerie silence lingering in the air as not a single creature dared to speak up and break the reverent afterthought left by the serene song. No one emerged from beneath the bridge&#039;s dual archways, and it had only been a moment.<br /><br />Molly pushed through the gate and looked beneath the bridge, trying to catch her breath as she stared into the shadowy dark under the archways. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but the polished rocky riverbank was illuminated on either side of the arch by soft moonlight. The dancing torchlight atop the bridge hardly reached this far down, but it was clear there was no motion, no glimpse of the woman she expected to see vanishing not the trees. <br /><br />She darted her gaze across to the small islet where the two arches of the great bridge rested, then to the bank opposite, but there was no movement. Somewhere in the distance, the droning croon of a Kricketot tentatively began to chime in, almost questioning whether it was ok to speak up.<br /><br />No one was there.<br /><br />Was it a ghost? That couldn&#039;t be right. Molly found her tail curling around her ankle, and she gave herself a reassuring squeeze as she stepped out of the light and beneath the bridge. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dark to pick out the glimmering ripple of the river, the dull moonlight spilling a softer blue illumination of the rocky riverbank. The story went that the siren&#039;s song would lure villagers into a room beneath the bridge, but she knew the bridge like the back of her hand. There were no openings in the wall on either side of the bridge the song might have come from. The Village Bridge was once again placid, peaceful, quietly awaiting the next performance. <br /><br />Molly paced to the edge of the riverbank, then back, leaning down occasionally to check the stone. There were no footprints, no scuffs, no mark on the pebble-strewn rocky banks of the river. Still, something should have been there, right?<br /><br />A small voice in the back of her head told her, I have no idea what you&#039;re looking for. The voice was right, she admitted, though she found herself turning back to the river as though it might offer her an answer. Its only reply was a swish of subtle waves, lapping against the shore. There was no one here but her.<br /><br />Defeated, Molly turned from the river and began a slow walk back, through the grass around the tennis court. The song seemed louder tonight than it had the weeks prior, but was that a fair measurement when this was the first time she&#039;d come outside to listen? For once, she was certain she hadn&#039;t simply imagined it. Not if it was louder when she went out. A part of her wanted it to be some greater mystery, something more exciting than just another in a long line of singers to come to the bridge... but the fact it was a song only she could hear hung in her mind. Could it be she was creating it, something to explore beyond the brick and mortar she knew so well after living her whole life in the Village Bridge? <br /><br />No. The song, wordless as it was, spoke of things so much more than she could imagine. It spoke of adventure and unknown, love and loss and loneliness. Every week more colorful, complex, painting pictures so much more personal than her fantasy novels.<br /><br />The song seemed to cut deeper tonight. Louder and clearer than it had been any other night, it had filled the village. Someone had to have heard it... She would ask again. It couldn&#039;t have been just her this time, not when it had been so clear, when every wild Pokemon had been lost in reverie, listening.<br /><br />The Village Bridge&#039;s quiet seemed almost deafening as she found herself back at her door. The quieter sounds of nature were far off, none so clear as the song that had played for her. Her door creaked again, and she took her boots and cloak off with another small snap. She all but fell into bed, mind racing on the possibilities, the stories in that enthralling voice until sleep finally found her and took her away into dreams.<br /><br />A Tranquill&#039;s song woke Molly from a deep sleep, the scattering wisps of a mystical, fantastical dream floating away from her like tattered ashes on the wind. While the avian song was not quite as refined, its happy tone brought an energy to her step that the Village Bridge so often lacked. The bright morning washed away the disappointment of once again losing the singer the night prior. Today, she would get a better answer to her mystery, she resolved. She hardly thought of her clothes - a simple beige tee and jean shorts, then she was picking up her cloak and draping it around her shoulders again. <br /><br />When she stepped outside, though, the noonlight sun stalled her in place. How late had she been out last night? It seemed it had only been a moment to get to the riverbank, but she had slept in far past when the respectable villagers were supposed to wake. She felt eyes on her, but none of the villagers paused as they milled about from building to building. At the center of the bridge, a plump and stout chipmunk was handing pastries over her food cart to a gaggle of children. Even from her house, Molly could see the friendly wiggle of her nose as she leaned back, the fresh scent of banana bread almost as sweet as her smile. Beatrice reminded her sometimes of her grandmother, though the woman was only a few years older than herself.<br /><br />The gaggle of children darted away, cinnamon prizes clutched to their chest, and Molly waved. She crossed the bridge towards the scent, drawn towards the sweet aroma.<br /><br />``Molly!&#039;&#039; Beatrice beamed, leaning against the sturdy cart. Molly couldn&#039;t help sharing her infections smile.<br /><br />``Bea! You&#039;re looking happy today. How are you?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Oh, hun. I&#039;m doing well. I can&#039;t keep enough pastries on my cart! I&#039;ve saved you a cinnamon twist, if you want one? I know those are your favorite!&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Sure thing, Bea, I&#039;d love one.&#039;&#039; Molly&#039;s whiskers twitched, her smile settling into a bemused half-grin as she pulled out 200 P. The chipmunk tried to wave her money away, but Molly quietly insisted. Once she had her cinnamon twist, she leaned in close, ``Listen, Bea. I heard it again last night. The song.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Again, Molly?&#039;&#039; Bea shook her head, but her smile was a constant on her bright creamy fur, ``Your singer certainly has a thing for Friday night Performances.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Again, Bea. Don&#039;t tell me you didn&#039;t hear it last night. I went out to try to figure out who was singing, and I could hear it so clearly.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``No, dear. Timothy and I slept sound as babes last night. I think our window was even open! Are you certain it&#039;s not just a dream, dear?&#039;&#039; <br /><br />Molly sighed and took a bite of her twist. For a moment, her frustration slipped away in favor of a honeyed cinnamon explosion across her tongue. The twist seemed to melt like butter in her mouth, and she couldn&#039;t restrain a murmur of appreciation.<br /><br />``Mmn, Arceus, your twists are just divine,&#039;&#039; she shook her head and swallowed. ``I&#039;m sure, Bea. Her voice... I&#039;m sure it&#039;s a her, Bea. I got so close to it last night. After last time, I had to be sure I wasn&#039;t dreaming, and it was everywhere. She got my heart pounding. I&#039;m sure it was someone singing under the bridge.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Beatrice crossed her arms, a brief flick of her tail visible as it peeked around her hips as she looked down the bridge from Molly&#039;s house to her own. They were neighbors, and Beatrice was one further from the river.<br /><br />``I don&#039;t know, Molly. It seems odd to me that someone would only sing at night. And only every other week... Have you talked to Katz, or Rachel?&#039;&#039; Bea was trying to be kind, Molly knew, by not mentioning the obvious, that only Molly seemed to hear it. <br /><br />``I asked Katz last week. He didn&#039;t have any idea what I was talking about,&#039;&#039; then seeing Beatrice raise a brow, she added, ``Or, at least, he seemed genuinely confused. I know him, Bea, and this wasn&#039;t anything like his flute.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Rachel would know, if Katz or Darrel won&#039;t tell you. Goodness knows they&#039;re all together enough practicing.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly dipped her muzzle, and nodded, taking the chance to snatch another bite of her twist. Despite not learning anything, the sweet flavor and Bea&#039;s warmth kept her smiling. ``You&#039;re right, Bea. Thanks. Do you know where she might be today?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Oh, I do, dear. She came by my stand not too long ago. She went down to the west side court with Arturo.&#039;&#039; Beatrice&#039;s tail pointed to her left, down the bridge, and she nodded after it, ``If you see her do send her my love. She&#039;s always such a dear.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Of course, Bea, I will,&#039;&#039; Molly said as she stepped away. She gave the chipmunk a bright wave before she was too far, ``Thanks again for your help. I&#039;ll let you know what I find... I will get to the bottom of this!&#039;&#039;<br /><br />A gently exasperation colored the chipmunk&#039;s parting wave, but Molly paid it no mind. Again, Beatrice had heard nothing, and this time Tim hadn&#039;t either. Beatrice could be a deep sleeper, she knew, but one of them should have heard the song. She let herself drift to the side of the bridge, taking the smooth metal railing in her hand. Its cool touch helped clear her thoughts.<br /><br />Strange singers were not something new to the Village Bridge. A part of her knew, and she felt a little guilty for trying to uncover the source. If it was someone who didn&#039;t want to be discovered, that was one thing, but for no one else to hear such a heart-stopping melody... Beatrice wasn&#039;t a singer, and Rachel&#039;s baritone was much too deep to be that pure vibrato. The chipmunk was right - If anyone would know the vocalists passing through their small town, it would be Rachel.<br /><br />A handful of travelers passed her as she crossed the bridge, the soft patter and click of shoes on brick. One gentleman in a brown bowler cap and suit tried to catch Molly&#039;s eyes, but she raised her hands and gestured at her empty beltline. He tipped his brown hat and continued on his way down the bridge. Molly was glad her parents had convinced her not to pursue becoming a trainer herself. The man was certainly a trainer, and likely would challenge Beatrice and her Heatmor. Many of the villagers had a trainer&#039;s license, but it was such a hassle to be stopped by every wannabe champion who passed through the bridge... She shook her head, slowing as the downward arch of the bridge smoothed into the gradient of brick into grass. Somewhat on autopilot she turned to the right, carefully moving around the fence and back onto the pavement leading up into the nook of trees where a basketball court hid. <br /><br />Surrounded by trees, the far-off burble of the river was muffled and overshadowed by the subtle susurrus of rustling branches, and soft strum of a guitar. A lanky wolf sat on a bench tucked into the nook of trees, strumming his guitar. He looked up when she waved, though he didn&#039;t stop playing.<br /><br />``Arturo! It&#039;s good to see you. Do you know if Rachel is on the court?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Ah, Molly. Sure, sure she is, but she&#039;s a bit busy right about now. Why don&#039;t you take a seat, let me play ya a song?&#039;&#039; He flashed a toothy, too-wide grin.<br /><br />``Not right now, Arturo,&#039;&#039; Her arms went akimbo as she turned her gaze across the court. As he said, Rachel was there standing across from a heavyset man with the bearing of a hiker. The two were caught in a battle, though it was hard to make out how it was going from where she was. She turned back to the guitarist, and took the chance to ask, ``I don&#039;t suppose you heard it last night? The song, I mean. I&#039;m sure it was loud enough.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Issat the voice you were talking about last week? I thought Katz told ya, we didn&#039;t hear nothing,&#039;&#039; he seemed to sneer, and Molly just scoffed.<br /><br />``You know, it&#039;s not funny. Whatever you three are up to, you should cut it out before you all get into trouble.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Nah, we ain&#039;t up to anything. Though if ya wanted to babysit us, you know - &#039;&#039; <br /><br />``Ew, no. Fine, I get the point. If you can&#039;t be an adult about it, I&#039;ll just ask Rachel.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly clicked her tongue and turned to move into the court before he could respond. Arturo was an ass, but at least she knew he wasn&#039;t clever enough to plot something as detailed as her mysterious singer. At least it was good timing, and the battle seemed to be over. She approached the hiker and Rachel just as he shook the weasel&#039;s hand. The bear of a hiker turned, then caught her eyes. Once more she raised her hands in a peaceable gesture.<br /><br />``Hey. I&#039;m no trainer. No Pokemon here.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />The bear just grunted and pushed past her and out of the court<br /><br />``Hey!&#039;&#039; She stumbled to the side.<br /><br />``Don&#039;t give him the time of day,&#039;&#039; Rachels hand squeezed her shoulder, and the familiar deep and soothing voice helped pull her attention back, ``I&#039;m not even sure he speaks our language.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly stifled a huff and flicked her tail. She brushed a hand over her shorts as though to clean off the bad mood, ``He could at least have some manners. I&#039;m sure wherever he&#039;s from, it&#039;s still rude to shove. Are you ok, Rachel?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``I&#039;m fine, Molly. He did a number on Azure, though. You don&#039;t happen to have a revive on you, do you?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``No,&#039;&#039; Molly shook her head and frowned. ``You know, you don&#039;t have to battle them. You could just ask them to leave.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``I know, Molly. But it&#039;s a great chance for Azure and me to meet new people. We aren&#039;t the best battlers, but she tries her hardest,&#039;&#039; Rachel tucked her pokeball into her purse with a sigh, ``I think you&#039;d understand if you became a trainer.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly grimaced, folding her ears back. ``I don&#039;t think so. I still don&#039;t understand why it&#039;s so hard to just refuse a challenge. I&#039;m not a trainer, and... ``She trailed off, then sighed. They had been over his many times before, and Rachel had that kind, patient smile she always had when she went off on that tangent again. Molly cracked a smile, ``Look. It&#039;s not important. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Rachel gestured to the benches that looked over the court, and Molly followed her into the shade of the ash trees. The pleasant breeze rustled through the branches loose leaves wisping whimsically over the asphalt. Besides Rachel, there were few others in the court playing a simple game of hoops<br /><br />``What can I help with, Molly? Is it my father again?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Oh no, nothing like that. I really appreciate that you were able to convince him to let me work. I&#039;d almost had it with his stubborn attitude. No, I wanted to ask about last night,&#039;&#039; And for once, it was refreshing to see someone not make a face at her asking again. Rachel&#039;s brow furrowed curiously, and she went on, ``I heard the mysterious woman singing again. I think... I&#039;m sure, she was under the bridge. It was louder last night, too. You must have heard her, right?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``A woman, singing?&#039;&#039; The weasel lifted a paw to her chin and looked to her left toward the river. ``I know that I&#039;ve heard the old stories. You know the ones our parents used to tell, about the mysterious singer in the room that doesn&#039;t exist, under the bridge... But last night? There wasn&#039;t anything like that last night.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Are you certain? That... Can&#039;t be. I heard it as clear as day. Clearer than you&#039;re talking to m now, actually. Not just in my bedroom on the second floor - but when I stepped out to the bridge, too.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``I&#039;m pretty sure, Molly. I was up late last night practicing our new song. Darrel wants us to practice for our first real performance. Like the ones our grandparents used to do, you know?&#039;&#039; Then she paused, and let out a little, ``Oh! Maybe you heard me singing?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``No, no. I know your voice, Rachel. Trust me, I&#039;d know if it was you.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``I don&#039;t think there was anyone else singing last night... Not that I heard, unless it was after I went to bed.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``That can&#039;t be right,&#039;&#039; Molly shook her head, ``Katz said the same thing last week when I asked him. I was sure it was him and Arturo, somehow, playing one of their stupid jokes again...&#039;&#039; Molly found herself clenching her hands, and she bit her lip, trying to think of some other possibility.<br /><br />``I don&#039;t know what to tell you, Molly, I&#039;m sorry. There have been a few singers coming through, but most of them have been trainers. Or, on their way to perform in Opelucid city. None were here yesterday.&#039;&#039; Rachel&#039;s concern was clear, though her friend was doing her best to be gentle.<br /><br />``I-it&#039;s not in my head, I swear. Look, Rachel, I&#039;m not sure what&#039;s going on, but there&#039;s someone singing down there. I know it. The same voice has been calling out for the last several Friday nights. I don&#039;t know why no one else has heard it, but I&#039;m not imagining it!&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Maybe...&#039;&#039; Rachel placed a hand on Molly&#039;s shoulder, her manicured claws giving a tender squeeze through her shirt. ``Maybe it&#039;s the way the Bridge is speaking to you, telling you something. C-could it have been your own voice you were hearing?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly scoffed. ``No, not at all. My voice can&#039;t reach those pitches, nor be so smooth. I&#039;m no singer, besides. I&#039;m better with my hands, building things, you know? I&#039;ve never had any interest in singing. ``<br /><br />``Maybe it isn&#039;t just singing,&#039;&#039; Rachel pondered. She looked away, to the river again. ``My grandfather always used to say, the river speaks to us all here in its own way. Maybe you should reconsider living alone as you do. No, no, don&#039;t make that face, Molly, you wouldn&#039;t need to battle.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly let loose a long breath and tried to will the incredulous look from her features. ``Maybe.&#039;&#039; Then she followed Rachel&#039;s gaze to the river, ``Every time I think about that, I hear my father&#039;s voice telling me how silly it is to be a trainer. How it&#039;d take me away from my home here. I know that isn&#039;t the case now, but...&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Rachel gave her another squeeze and nodded again, before dropping her hand to her lap again. ``Maybe it is a singer. If it&#039;s someone who doesn&#039;t want to be found... maybe, you should go back and wait for them. If it isn&#039;t in your head, whoever it is should come back... Or...&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Or, maybe it was in my head all along, and I need to start thinking of something to keep me from going bonkers?&#039;&#039; Molly flashed a wry grin as across the court, the ball hit its hoop with a loud clang and bounced off to the side. <br /><br />They sat together quietly, the subtle song of the river taking over where their conversation had stopped. Its dull rush mixed with the staccato notes from the bird Pokemon in the trees, a subtle sway under the carried hum of voices and lighter twang of Arturo&#039;s guitar. Finally, Molly sighed and reached over to give the weasel a fond push.<br /><br />``Listen, Rachel. Thanks for being straight with me. It isn&#039;t a bad idea, really. I&#039;ll go to the river and listen. Whatever it is, I don&#039;t think I can ignore it,&#039;&#039; she turned and met Rachel&#039;s smile. Her friend&#039;s whiskers twitched curiously.<br /><br />``I really just want the best for you, Molly. You&#039;ve been all alone here... I know you aren&#039;t interested in Arturo or Darrel, but... Maybe a companion wouldn&#039;t be the worst for you. Azure has been such a joy, for me. I don&#039;t know what I would do without my Azumaril....&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly&#039;s tail curled tight around one of the legs of the bench, and the mouse found herself adding almost too quiet to be heard, ``And... it&#039;d make it easier for me to go somewhere other than the Village Bridge...&#039;&#039; Whether Rachel had heard her or not, the weasel gave no sign. Unwinding her tail felt like bending iron, but she somehow managed and stood. She turned her flat smile back to Rachel.<br /><br />``Maybe,&#039;&#039; Molly continued, ``There isn&#039;t a lot going on here, but I honestly appreciate the quiet music of this place sometimes. Maybe a companion is what I need to get me out of this funk. Really, thanks Rachel.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Rachel&#039;s eyes twinkled, and she felt her friend&#039;s compassion as quiet as it was. She knew the weasel could feel how fake her smile was.<br /><br />``Yeah, Molly. And listen. If you ever want company, you&#039;re welcome to join me more often. I could even teach you how to sing, you know?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``I know. I appreciate it, Rachel, I just... I really don&#039;t have much interest in singing. I...&#039;&#039; Molly turned back to the bridge, her tail curled around her waist, ``Listen. I have some business to tend to. The village won&#039;t build itself, you know? It&#039;s been good to see you, Rachel. I&#039;ll tell you what it is when I find it, ok?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Alright, Molly. I look forward to hearing what you find, you know?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Molly nodded and stepped away. She wasn&#039;t sure where she was going, but by the time she was at the entrance of the court again she could hear Rachel&#039;s deep voice singing a foreign song. The strings of Arturo&#039;s guitar plucked up alongside it, and the flowing music followed her back to the bridge, and each note led her thoughts through what her friend had said.<br /><br />There was a chance it really was her imagination, vivid as the song was. No one in the town heard the singing... at least, from those she trusted to ask. She stopped to ask a few others on her way back to her house, but they all had the same answer. Maybe it really was the bogeyman parents warned children about, the singer under the bridge who sung about love and adventure in far-off lands. Perhaps it was that Rachel had the heart of it, that she was unhappy with things here. And it was hard to admit that Rachel was right, that she wanted more than the Village Bridge could provide in its slow, traditional way. <br /><br />Molly stopped atop the bridge again. Beatrice&#039;s cart had moved down to the east slope, and there was no one else passing by. She leaned against the railing and wondered. Was it possible that she had simply made up the voice in an attempt to give herself something more to do than fixing the same roofs and walls of the village every season? Was it really that boring here? <br /><br />Maybe she was lonely. She looked down at the glittering river, and two Basculin jumped from its glittering blue, only to splash back down and vanish again. She had decided years ago, none of the boys of the village appealed to her. That hand&#039;t changed now. She didn&#039;t have someone like Rachel&#039;s Azumaril, or Beatrices&#039; Heatmor. Maybe it was time to fix that...<br /><br />Was that what the song was trying to tell her? Another voice in her head wanted to insist she was happy, and she pushed her frustration away with the railing. She turned to walk away, only to find herself snagged by her tail caught on the railing. It couldn&#039;t just be her imagination. This had to be something more. It had to be. When Friday came again, she would have a plan. Until then, she would keep her evenings clear. Just in case the song came again at an odd time, an odd place. She would get to the bottom of this mystery. If it was a trick, she would find the source... But even better if it wasn&#039;t, she could finally get some answers from the mysterious voice beneath the bridge.<br /><br />The week passed in a blur with no answers. Even the anglers who lived and breathed the river were confused when she asked about the mysterious song. The gentleman who ran the bed and breakfast had raised her hopes, but after a few questions it became clear that he had only heard Rachel&#039;s voice on the wind. Fixing his window&#039;s broken hinge was a quick repair, at least.<br /><br />Molly pushed her toolbox back into the base of her closet and straightened her denim jacket. The quiet bridge would need no more work, at least not until someone&#039;s desk broke, or a roof repaired, but a part of her pondered if she should take them anyways. No, she shook her head to herself, need to overburden herself if she needed to run again.<br /><br />Her lucky flashlight, though, was an obvious choice. She pulled it from her toolbox and hooked its chain onto her belt. It was a small explorer&#039;s light emblazoned with a cowboy&#039;s hat... a memory of younger adventures and unknown crooks she had tried to discover around the Village Bridge. She had her C-Gear charged and ready to take a picture... and just imagining the look on Katz and Darrel&#039;s faces as she gave them solid proof brought a grin to her muzzle. Especially if it was them behind the matter, but even if it wasn&#039;t she wanted to show them she was not just imagining things. <br /><br />She pulled a warm jacket over her shoulders and took another look around. That should be everything, right...?<br /><br />``Oh,&#039;&#039; she murmured, her notebook briefly popping into her thoughts. If she found no answer tonight, she could at least note down the song&#039;s melody and the feelings it evoked. It would be better than leaving her notebook in her room by the window where it usually lived, waiting for her to return. She plucked it from its perch, pondering who she might go to that might know the source of the tune. Perhaps, someone in Opelucid City might have an answer? She tucked her book under her arm and her pen into a pocket, then dashed from the house.<br /><br />Twilight toasted the bridge&#039;s bricks in a pleasant orangish hue, a dull orange-purple glow lighting the cloth of Beatrice&#039;s pastry stand like a cloth lantern. Though it had long since been cleaned of goods, the sweet scent of pastries lingered lazily on the air alongside subtler hints of flowers from the nearby clearing. The rich thrum of Katz&#039; guitar floated up the river, framing the quieter rustle of river water bubbling downstream and a duller hum of Darrel&#039;s gravelly voice. Behind their song was a faint breath of a breeze, carrying far-off Pokemon cries along the bridge to greet her.<br /><br />It was perfect weather to linger outside. Cool, clear skies and a pleasant lingering warmth keeping the chill at bay. Her dash slowed to a powerwalk down the bridge, taking the steps one at a time. The bridge was quiet and calm, and the tennis courts were empty as they had been on the night of her frantic flight toward the river. This time, she took a longer path through the gate, and by the time she was again halfway across the villager&#039;s songs were drifting off into placid quiet. A few final guitar strums floated on the air as though blown along by the subtle breeze, their fading buzz following the sun to rest.<br /><br />The Village Bridge settled into its usual slumbering quiet. Everyone returned home towards their dinner and bed. The only exception would be the rare trainer, but hers were the only paw-falls to sound out around her. She met the river with a curious gaze, first through the bridge then down its stream. No one was there. Not yet, at least.<br /><br />Reason told her they should arrive soon if they were going to arrive. But it felt silly being so early - had the singing started now, the whole town should have heard it. A part of her still hoped to find someone waiting under the bridge, perhaps ready to greet her. All that met her was the splash of a Magikarp in the fading light. <br /><br />The quiet hung heavy in the air, an almost smothering blanket of placid calm she had thought she was long used to. Molly found herself pacing, the solid clatter of stone beneath her boots breaking the oppressive silence. Somewhere above, she heard the dull rattle of a bicycle glide past, a midnight traveler unknown in the night. Who were they? She wondered, Were they a trainer? Might they have a partner Pokemon, or more? The cool blue-green water held no answer for her, an almost passive twinkle of moonlight glittering brighter and brighter on the waves around the bridge&#039;s central support. Then the cyclist was gone, their rattle replaced by the dull papery rustle of grass and leaves brushing shoulder to shoulder in the dark.<br /><br />If she had a Pokemon of her own, a companion... maybe it was time to reconsider her stance on having a trainer&#039;s license. That none of the villagers had believed her still stung. She could understand when it came from the trainers and wanderers she didn&#039;t know, but her friends, those whose homes and furnishings she had repaired more times than she could count? She pressed her back against the arch of the bridge and slid down the smooth brick wall until her jeans met the cobblestone. She was out of sight beneath the bridge, so the only ones who would see her wrapping her arms about her knees were the river fish.<br /><br />Maybe the singer was one of the Hoothoot who sometimes roosted on her balcony at night, or... What other options were there? She didn&#039;t relish the thought of battling, but the mystery had ignited a strange urge in her heart. <br /><br />Molly nodded, whiskers bobbing. An adventure would suit her, through the unexplored corners of Unova. How many other unanswered questions lingered? Questions that had been so easily dismissed as the fantasies of girls like her. And...<br /><br />Splash. A ripple broke the dull reflection of the crescent moon and broke her from her reverie. Across the river, the dull purple glitter of a leaping Magikarp&#039;s scales caught her eye, lingering a moment in the air. Then it splashed down again, seeming to bounce into a series of quick, rippling leaps downstream until it vanished.<br /><br />Hours had passed, and it was nearing midnight. Even with the moon hidden out of sight somewhere far above the bridge, its shifting light had moved far enough to tell her she had been here hours rather than minutes. She shifted in her seat, unconsciously leaning in to meet the cool rush of a fresh breeze gusting through the bridge&#039;s tunnel. A hum lit the stones around her, its serene, natural voice surging into liquid notes. Somehow even the bridge was a musical instrument when the wind hit it right, and she imagined the trees swaying along to the nameless tune... Her ear flicked as the music swelled, caught in a deeper note, and like a fire had lit beneath her she leapt up.<br /><br />As though ignited by the very wind itself, a noble song had begun to hum, quivering in the air over the river. Where was it coming from? It almost sounded like it could have been on the other side of the bridge. Leaping across might take her there, especially as cresting the bridge would take much too long. She was halfway through plotting her path when her thoughts were cast aside by a rushing surge of water bubbling over the water&#039;s surface.<br /><br />A regal blue form emerged from the misty surge, its blunt horn framed by two sweeping swirls. Molly&#039;s back hit the bridge&#039;s arch, a pinch at her tail all but forgotten as she found herself looking into two glimmering purple eyes. It was a Pokemon... as the water fell from its form Molly&#039;s eyes caught the lighter cream of its neck, and the subtler hint of a smile softening its blubbery visage. A few darker blue speckles adorned the creature&#039;s cheeks, and she knew others lay turned away from her. Even without spotting its iconic gray shell, she knew the Pokemon. Lapras!<br /><br />While she marveled, the song swelled around her, a victorious thrum of notes. The Lapras&#039;s mouth didn&#039;t move, but its eyes glowed, and the song seemed to catch and echo from around its presence. Then she felt it, a sudden wordless touch like a breeze rustling straight through her body. It put her fur on end as an inquisitive presence brushed alien emotions and thoughts along her mind. All at once she was aware of the ache of her tail, and how far she was from the shore staring slack-jawed at the towering creature. It was large for a Lapras, and amidst the fading song it opened its mouth to emit an echoing, soulful cry. <br /><br />``Lapras,&#039;&#039; Molly wondered aloud, then blushed at her obvious statement. The Pokemon cooed, careless of her faux pax, dipping its muzzle down as though trying to make itself seem less threatening. Molly found herself approaching, a flick of her tail idly trying to shake free the pinch that had come from hitting her rear against the bricks. ``You... you must be the one who has been singing.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />``Lah,&#039;&#039; the Pokemon&#039;s answer wasn&#039;t verbal as much as it was the song winding down as she came close. Lapras nodded its head.<br /><br />``You... Your voice is so beautiful,&#039;&#039; Molly wondered, a hand brushing over her pocket, over her phone, but she couldn&#039;t pull her gaze from the creature&#039;s deep, pink eyes. Were those natural for a Lapras? They held so much emotion.... ``But... Why? Why could no one else hear it?&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Lapras&#039;s eyes just twinkled in the moonlight. It... Her voice swelled around her, an otherworldly hum that was less words than it was a rush of feelings woven into song. Clearer than it had been floating through her window far above, the voice resonated deep into her until it felt as though her bones were quivering along each note. When the Pokemon had crooned at her, that was verbal, but this...<br /><br />``Psychic?&#039;&#039; Molly wondered, and her question was confirmed by a swelling crescendo of notes. She found herself raising a hand to greet the Pokemon&#039;s muzzle as it dipped down to touch her chest. The rush of steamy, fishy air billowing through her top and hair was almost an afterthought as she sorted the puzzle pieces.<br /><br />Lapras&#039;s glimmering pink eyes caught hers, and Molly tried to think of something to say. Perhaps the Pokemon would say something back, instead? In legends, Pokemon with psychic abilities almost always communicated with clear telepathic sentences. But this wasn&#039;t a legend, and the mouse had never had a chance to be so close with a Pokemon that could use psychic power. Was there supposed to be a voice beneath that feminine croon? Lapras&#039;s voice was a tender lilt, almost lapping at her mind like waves. It seemed perfectly in time with the subtle ripples around the river around the transport Pokemon.<br /><br />Lapras&#039;s eyes glowed pink, and almost by instinct Molly closed her eyes. She was glad she did - a moment later, a flurry of images washed over her mind, foreign to her memory.<br /><br />She saw the Village Bridge lit up by its flickering windows, smoldering firelights seeming to make them dance beneath the magnificent purples, blues, and oranges of a twilight sky. She felt the ghostly sensation of her neck turning, yet it wasn&#039;t her neck, it was the remembered image turning to take in the quiet ash forest that sheltered the village. The forest seemed to dance to the lingering gentle song in her mind. The image faded, and another took its place. The village bridge lit by bright sun, houses blending into each other and the bridge below them. The image lingered, then faded into a far-off view of the windswept grasses around the base of the bridge, rustled by the occasional Pokemon and trainer. It was a disorienting rush to shift between images, sometimes watching Pokemon trainers with a curiosity, yet she felt beneath that voice the intimate touch of a feeling... was that a distaste for their lust for power and fame?<br /><br />How long had Lapras been watching the people of the Village Bridge? <br /><br />The answer came as though she had asked her question aloud. The images spilled together, the sun rising and falling in a blur. Days turned to weeks, weeks became months. Little changed over the seasons - the bridge always looked the same, though occasionally she caught a glimpse of her familiar tail and jacket, or the people she knew visiting the side of the river. She felt a chill down her spine as she found herself reflecting on how little happened... Every day bled into the last, and everything was the same.<br /><br />Quiet. The Village bridge, the small corner of Unova off the beaten track. The quiet would have been deafening were it not for the reassuring brush of music across her mind, and the glittering, almost understanding gaze of the gorgeous blue creature staring into her. She found herself nose to snout with the Lapras, each warm zephyr of breath rushing in and out around her leaving her fur feeling damp. It was a tether to the present, even amidst the wordless images.<br /><br />An image swam to the front of her mind of a curious doorway in the bricks beneath the bridge. A rectangular entrance into pitch blackness, on the western bank. Then two orbs glittered shimmered to life, two glittering eyes peering out of the darkness. The rest of the room was cloaked in shadows... Then a woman&#039;s voice she didn&#039;t recognize floated down from the bridge above. Sometimes, I hear a song coming from the bridge...Some days it sounds sad and soulful, other days it&#039;s a bright, cheery tune... Do you think, it could be a ghost?<br /><br />Molly didn&#039;t recognize the doorway, nor the voice. It made no sense. She had lived here all her life, long enough to have been over and under the bridge hundreds of times and there had never been a doorway in the bricks under the bridge. Yet, it caught her imagination - could there be a secret room under the bridge? Were the old stories true, about a ghostly siren&#039;s song luring children from the bridge? She was hardly a child, yet she&#039;d responded to the Lapras&#039;s song. Her hand brushed along the rubbery, sleek hide of the Pokemon before her. This was hardly a ghost. But the song she heard had matched what the voice said, the voice of legend.<br /><br />The distant hoot of a Noctowl reached her from the trees, and she found herself back in the quiet Village bridge. She stared into Lapras&#039;s eyes, searching. A world of experience was buried in those eyes, places and things she had never seen. A flicker of images came again, but this time they were harder to parse. The hint of a great iron and steel bridge bustling with traffic and noise flickered a crisscross of metal beams supporting it, followed by an ancient sandy ruin with harsh flecks of stone bristling swirls over a cliff adorned with sun-like carvings, which faded into an image of a towering city of lights and bright bustling life, then others still too quick to make any sense... until Molly pulled herself back, tail tugging at her ankle.<br /><br />It was all too much. She recognized a few of them. Tubeline bridge, the great metal and steel span busy and bustling with traffic, she had seen in pictures. Never from the river below, but it was unmistakable. The city... That had to have been Castelia city, the bustling gem at the heart of Unova. The image of the ancient ruin clung in her mind, lingering with the curious secret door in the Village. What lay beyond that door? Was it still there, just hidden? Had it been built over? There would be evidence, if so... Was it related to the image of ruins? And...<br /><br />Lapras dipped her nose down and nodded. Molly had taken a step back, but she was too overwhelmed to move. No new images came, though. The Pokemon nodded, and in that nod closed the distance to brush her cool blubbery hide against Molly&#039;s side. In a single brush of sleek skin, it felt like the cobwebs were lifted off her mind. A rich, vibrant hum escaped that neck, lingering and chiming at the air like a rich flute tugging at the fur behind her ears. A part of her wanted to push the Pokemon away. The images were of things so foreign to the village bridge, things time forgot. But they clung to a hidden, adventurous part of her. That little voice that had wanted to get out and explore, to be more than... carpenter fated to take care of the village Bridge and its selfsame bricks year by year.<br /><br />How have I let myself get trapped here? Her thoughts raced, unbidden. How... How can I get out?<br /><br />The Pokemon held no answer. Thoughtful pink eyes seemed to listen to her thoughts, an almost motherly gaze peering almost through her. Maybe she could... Then another voice rang in her mind. Her mother&#039;s words, How would you make money out on the road all day? A trainer could win their own funding, even as a contest star you&#039;d make more than enough to get by... But you refuse to be either! You can&#039;t get by on - <br /><br />Shove. Lapras&#039;s nose pushed, and Molly stumbled backwards. ``Hey! What...&#039;&#039; Her ears dropped, ``Y-you can hear my thoughts.&#039;&#039; She looked away, tail tucking down between her legs, ``Of course, I&#039;m sorry.&#039;&#039;<br /><br />Splash! Lapras&#039;s flippers pushed the Pokemon from the river, bringing her cream-colored chest up onto the rocky shore. Her eyes glimmered and glittered, rolled her head forward. It was a soothing croon, yet those eyes began to glow. A clear energy taking over them. A tentative hand met Lapras&#039;s cheek, and this time a clearer series of images flowed into her mind.<br /><br />The watery image of a fisherman flitted into Molly&#039;s mind, reeling and wrangling in a Frillish. Then others, similar fishermen and women, seen from underwater. Then Lapras surfaced, the glittering splash of water clouding the image until a beach came into view. A line of swimmers dove into the ocean one after the other towards a far off buoy. The images paused, flickered, and molly took a breath she didn&#039;t realize she was holding. Then another image pulled from her memories of Rachel singing while her Azumaril hummed along, tail swaying. Then it shifted, pulling back from her memory into an image from Lapras, down the river to a row of berry trees. <br /><br />Molly&#039;s eyes widened. ``It... It isn&#039;t that easy, Lapras. This is... this is my home,&#039;&#039; but even she didn&#039;t have any conviction behind that statement. ``I... I have a job. I could leave the Village, but... I don&#039;t even have a Pokemon, and I&#039;m no trainer. Where would I sleep, without... How would I even...&#039;&#039;<br /><br />It was harder and harder to think of a proper rebuttal. Her thoughts went to Rachel... Lapras seemed to take hold of that thought, taking the opportunity to emphasize the image of Molly&#039;s house. The tiny collection of rooms, her table with only two chairs. Only on the rarest occasions did she have a guest there - and in recent years it had only been Rachel. Her room upstairs, framed by the small bed and the window she so often kept open so she could let her mind wander out to the forest and beyond.<br /><br />Yet, it was all so small. Was that Lapras&#039;s perspective? It wasn&#039;t clear, as she realized, she&#039;d thought the very same thought hundreds... no, thousands of times over the years. Then she realized it was - Lapras&#039;s flippers would brush against the wall, and she would have to crane her head down to fit even in her parlor, to say little of her room. It was tiny. The sudden pang of sympathy came, and with a jolt she realized it was her own. She wanted more... More than her little mousetrap. She wanted to escape.<br /><br />When the image faded from her mind, she found herself slumping forward as though her muscles had simply stopped. Lapras caught her, the brush of a horn under her arms lifting her up, keeping her from hitting the floor. Here she had someone ready to rescue her...<br /><br />``C-can you? Take me... take me away from here. Anywhere... please,&#039;&#039; her voice hitched, and the world blurred through tears. Lapras&#039;s answer was to catch her, a sudden forward bounce pressing her face into rubbery, surprisingly warm hide. Molly sobbed, pushing her cheek in close. The subtle rushing shift of the Pokemon&#039;s breathing, the dull and softly muted drumbeat of her strong heart... and a soothing, rumbling croon, as that long neck dipped down behind her, the faint touch of muzzle tip to the top of her head.<br /><br />Molly felt the faintest swallow, a flex and flutter. Like a ripple seen through frosted glass, it was subtle and just barely there, rippling down from the top of that long neck. Glp. Her sensitive ears told her what the motion was. Her fur stood on end as an outlandish possibility flitted through her mind. She could... so easily hold me. Take me.... Then I wouldn&#039;t have to worry, wouldn&#039;t have to be alone... She realized her tail had frozen behind her, and she pulled back to gaze into those rich pink eyes. Calm, cool, glittering softly in reflected moonlight - but there wasn&#039;t a glow.<br /><br />Was that radical thought really her own? She pulled back just far enough until she was nose to nose with Lapras. What did she really have here? Eventually, the village would pressure her to choose one of the unappealing men... And she&#039;d be caught in the same routine. The mysterious, otherworldly song had woken the adventurer she had thought long buried in her... And then those images. There was so much more to the world than there was in the Village Bridge, so much more... right in front of her. It would be the perfect excuse, too... Captured by a Pokemon. She felt her cheeks flush, unsure where the thoughts were coming from, why she felt she could so easily fit into those jaws.<br /><br />``S-sorry girl, I know y-you -&#039;&#039; <br /><br />Yawn. Lapras jaws gaped wide open, cutting off her stammering apology with a rush of steamy, fishy air rolling through Molly&#039;s fur. It pushed at her ears like wind caught in sails, but her gaze was caught deep in the depths of the Pokemon&#039;s jaws. A plush, oozing expanse of pink flesh couched Lapras&#039;s pillowy tongue, slick streamers of oily saliva connecting a cushy palate to her tongue and conical fangs. Their spacing and blunt nature told her they were more for grabbing than biting... But rather than bite down on her, the broad tongue arched up, lifted from its housing with a squish, almost threatening to brush over her with a lick<br /><br />``O-oh,&#039;&#039; Molly&#039;s cheeks might well have caught fire. Why couldn&#039;t she tear her gaze from the fluttering grasp of muscles and heat? Lapras&#039;s throat relaxed, letting her glimpse into a sweltering tunnel. Glistening, rich red-black heat leading deeper... only to cinch tightly closed, into a tight kiss. Sqlrch, lrck. A swallow, Lapras&#039;s tongue lifted, her jaw&#039;s tendons shivering as she kept her mouth wide open and made a show of the process.<br /><br />Time seemed slowed to a crawl. It felt hours before Molly realized she hadn&#039;t said anything, that she had just been staring. Lapras was braced against the shores, but she seemed to bob and sway subtly with the brush of waves against her lower half. The Pokemon could have bit at any time, snapped at her, but instead she had held her jaws agape for the mouse. Instead, they simply hovered in front of her... inviting her mind to wander inwards. Tugged almost as though caught by the swallowing pulse of peristalsis.<br /><br />Molly had to think. She had to make sense of it all. It felt like she&#039;d found herself again. But even as she tried to clear her mind, the adventurous and blushing spirit reached her hand up. It was almost like it was another person that pressed her hand to the tip of Lapras&#039;s proffered tongue. Gush, the slimy, oozing saliva greeted her fingertips and clung like oil, joined by an approving croon that rumbled through her. The Pokemon&#039;s voice lit a sonorous song, dappled pink flesh quivering as her hand dimpled into it. She could feel the faintest hint of that pulsing, powerful heart through the flesh... so much clearer than through the protective blubber outside, everything was so much closer, so much more intimate than - <br /><br />Slrrrck. That strong tongue shoved forward and scattered her thoughts again, taking a clear, firm taste over her, curling around her elbow, stretching up to lap over her shoulder then back. Retreating to get every taste, beneath fur, along her clothes, it all seemed as interesting to Lapras, until that tongue danced over her fingertips and pulled free. Gooey saliva spiderwebbed between her fingers and connected her to the tongue as it came to rest again couched by blunt teeth. It was almost a red carpet, as inviting as the siren&#039;s voice. She couldn&#039;t see her entrancing pink eyes, but even with the crooning song at rest, each rushing surge of fishy breath and drooling warmth took over, seeming to draw her inwards with each inhale.<br /><br />Eyes closed, Molly pushed herself forward. Ignoring the voice of reason and instinct in the back of her mind that told her in no uncertain terms what she was doing... She had to push her feet from the ground. This was no simple predator in the night, no ravenous, thoughtless beast. At any time, Lapras could have overpowered her, stolen her away from the Village. Since she had surfaced, Molly had been in her flippers. The only `move&#039; the Pokemon had used was her well-placed licks...<br /><br />Splrt. Her head caught into the tongue, meeting her forwards push with the giving weight of smooth, slimy flesh. It curled around her, squeezed along her cheeks, then unfurled and pushed down along her neck. Molly found her head following the natural incline up, lifted into the squishy squeeze as a bassy murmur expressed the Pokemon&#039;s delight over her flavor. Molly could only breathe the oozing, fishy scent around her, its steamy zephyr urging away the natural chill of the outside world. A burning kernel of heat ignited in her chest by the swiping curl of Lapras&#039;s tongue, each breath a steamy cascade tugging at the air around her. It was overwhelming, made it impossible to think. Her ears flicked. A dull drumbeat quivered on the edges of her ears, the fairest hint of the gentle heart hidden somewhere in that yearning, heated core. <br /><br />A subtly acrid fishy tang hung on her fur, glazed into her by another lifting curl. Fishy, clinging saliva matted her coat, and the faint tease of blunt teeth combed the top of her head, and yet she found herself resisting the muscle&#039;s shove. Her head wound up diving into the cushy valley at the core of Larpas&#039;s plush muscle, lifting thoughtlessly into its attentive kiss. Molly took a deep breath, and the queer mix of stale breath and fishy heat sent a confusing shudder through her body. Confusion pricked her mind enough to draw her eyes open again. She was in a Pokemon&#039;s mouth, being tasted over like a delicious fish. What would happen to her?<br /><br />Yet, she reached her hands up to press her palms into the broad curves of that tongue. Just along the edge where they lay covering Lapras fangs, where blubbery cream-colored lips framed those jaws. Something about the Pokemon made it impossible to listen to her instincts. Rational thought muddied, like her mind was covered with as thick a coat of sticky drool as her fingers were. Her touch dimpled into vivid flesh, rubbing and massaging up and in. She reached up, finding herself longing to feel more, longing to embrace that muscle as close as it so clearly wanted to embrace her. Dully, she knew that her touch was only smearing her flavor into each taste bud. Somehow that only encouraged her to burrow in closer, push and compress the muscle with a hot splutter of chin until her cheeks were burning. <br /><br />Lapras murmured, a muted, musical croon. Molly imagined the Pokemon couldn&#039;t resist when her head bobbed forward, when those jaws twitched in a subtle possessive flex. It was a dream, it had to be. No wild Pokemon should act this way... She opened her eyes, though whether it was to wake herself, or reassure herself, her thoughts stalled in their tracks looking into the glistening twinkle of Lapras&#039;s throat. Clench. The muscles rippled, fluttered and squeezed in a deep-seated want, all while the Pokemon&#039;s tongue lifted, curled around her chest, slipped over her shirt. <br /><br />Her shoulders fit perfectly into that gape, the natural push taking her whiskers closer and closer to the back of Lapras&#039;s tongue, hardly even reaching to the outermost edges. Were those jaws to close around her, they wouldn&#039;t even touch her sides - she would just be trapped. Caught like a Magikarp along the dull inward pointing fangs that were designed to keep prey from escaping.<br /><br />Prey.<br /><br />The word caught and stuck in her mind like a burr. Was that all she was? Her tail tangled, a twinge and shudder at her core. Ragged breaths caught at the sweltering blanket of fishy breath. The growing heat, desire in her... it had to be a trick, an illusion. A spark ignited by a trick, a psychic tug at her mind. She couldn&#039;t actually want - Glruck, Lapras cut her off with a swallow. A radiant display of the power of those muscles cinching down over so much nothing, flaring closed into a seal tight enough to crush a blueberry, not a glimpse of the passage beyond. Her whiskers folded, telling her how easily she would fit into that space, into that desire, the sputtering spray of saliva misting her cheeks. Lapras wanted her. But...<br /><br />So why wasn&#039;t she biting down? Her jaws hung, open wide around her. Molly pulled back, lifted from the tongue, strands of saliva connecting her to the muscle. Just beyond the brink, Lapras&#039;s throat quivered and relaxed, opening again as though to call her back and lure her inward. But the Pokemon made no motion to stop her. It would be easy to stop it, to let her fear pull her from those jaws. She could listen to the wise words of the village and let adventure pass her by...<br /><br />Molly all but dove back into the tongue. A push refusing to let her choice be taken from her by words that weren&#039;t even her own. A wordless knead, tugging her thumbs into the Pokemon&#039;s flesh, encouraging it to slip along her body and catch her. No. She wouldn&#039;t pull away. Somehow, this Pokemon... this wild Pokemon was so much more than anyone else she had ever met. Her predator. Lapras had chosen her, to free her from the trap the village had become. <br /><br />``G-go on,&#039;&#039; Molly stammered. Her eyes closed, fighting back the fear, the quiver of her voice, even as her tail curled and tugged around her angle. A firm squeeze fighting down the urge to thrash about. She wanted to say more, but her words only came out as a little squeak, muffled and caught on the cushy expanse of hungering jaws all around her. Rational, reasonable instincts screamed at her. The muscles in her legs tightened, her heart caught in her chest. <br /><br />Lapras simply lowered her head. Her tongue lifted into a steady, encouraging roll beneath Molly&#039;s chest, hiking up her shirt and slathered her sides. Was it a parting taste, savoring her flavor... Or was it meant to soothe her panic? Molly quivered. She fought with her instincts, told herself to stand taller, jump in, anything, but her legs refused to respond. Lapras made the move for her. Her head rolled down and eclipsed the outside world with the rushing, surging waves of her gulletflesh. Calm for a heartbeat, on the brink of the storm, before lifting her up as easily as she would a trainer to ferry across the sea, before-<br /><br />Ulgck! Lapras&#039;s throat collapsed around Molly&#039;s head, rolling muscles into her cheeks and squishing her ears flat against her skull. Dragged down, powerful suction tugged her out of view of the light, the only glimmer replaced with oozing red-black heat grinding into her features. Strong as it was it lifted her cheek, pulled her shoulders into the Pokemon&#039;s throat, tugged and insisted she sink down into the long slide down Lapras&#039;s regal, creamy neck. Until as quickly as it started it relaxed, trembling flesh stretching around her. Even after that powerful predatory swallow, the Pokemon relaxed her neck, opened her jaws again, pulling fresh, clear air in alongside her. It was so cold, compared to the sauna-like grasp of Lapras&#039;s throat, she managed a forward wriggle.<br /><br />Slqrtch. Her ear twitched, the slimy push of folds oozing past her face, shifting against the press of her hands slithered into her senses. Molly realized, the Pokemon had paused her swallows - the inching, sinking sensation was just the weight of her own body, of gravity encouraging her deeper. Her toes curled, and she remembered her clothes, her shoes. A brief, embarrassed blush wriggling against the weighted blanket of throat clasping around her. There was a faint, muffled croon of curiosity as she hooked behind one shoe... and kicked it off. The other followed shortly after, the clatter of their soles on the ground. Even then, the Pokemon held her swallows at bay. Instinctive twitches, twinges, subtle ripples easing Molly a bit deeper one inch at a time... And then she realized, the Pokemon was letting her decide. She hadn&#039;t even thought, hadn&#039;t had a second thought. Even well past what should have been the point of no return, the Pokemon cared, let her decide.<br /><br />Molly pushed her bare paws into Lapras&#039;s tongue, and she pushed. Where the sudden brave strength had come from, where the sudden urge to shove herself deeper towards the abyssal depths calling out so needily for her, she couldn&#039;t say and couldn&#039;t think. Instead, thought was crushed out of her by the pressing furl of muscles, strong as iron yet soft as a mattress driving her downwards in a singular, concussive glrck!<br /><br />The squishing press of flesh into her senses smeared Lapras&#039;s heartbeat firmer into her senses. The rolling, tugging weight dragged her back, over the arching cliff of the Pokemon&#039;s tongue, all restraint seeming to melt from Lapras&#039;s body with another low gulck. The mouse could hardly move, let alone squirm, between the squeezing, rolling weight of muscles smearing into her body and the oozing, slimy waves of peristalsis easing her along. Slimy, fishy muscles cupped her hips, a faint twinge yielding and letting them slide through. The Pokemon&#039;s jaws so easily eclipsed her thighs, as natural as if the Lapras were swallowing down a fish. <br /><br />Blubber creaked all around her, inches away from her as that creamy neck swelled to allow her passage. Molly could picture her feet slipping up, caught in the tongue&#039;s lifting spoon and shoved eagerly past the blunt wall of fangs with a lazy snap of jaw... and only then realized she&#039;d been pulled up off the ground, ankles tangled with her tailtip. Everything from her whiskers, down her arms and to her ankles had been caught up, pulled from the ground seemingly without a second thought from her predator. She felt each furl of flesh giving, stretching around her, only to yield and let her sink downward. <br /><br />Molly shivered, her eyes closed. Anxious springs wound tight until she unleashed her anxiety into the muscles around her with a swimming lurch of her back. She was the meal, the Magikarp plucked from a river and swallowed down. She imagined one of her friends looking across the river to the Lapras basking in the moonlight. Would her swell be obvious, a jumble of curves and clearly wriggling, when she pushed? Molly pushed her arms outward, only to wince as her hands gushed through slimy, smooth flesh and a reflexive swallow shoved her limbs back in, insisting on dragging her down, pulling her body and straining hrer along the subtle, regal curve deeper into Lapras&#039;s body. For a moment, the muscles grabbing her pressed into her thighs, dragged into her curves, strained and squished into her in a way that made it feel like the heat all around her wasn&#039;t just from the great heart, that dull drumbeat soaking into her, then the moment broke with another swallow.<br /><br />Her legs kicked, every instinct in her body calling out for her to fight free of her predator, fingers digging into the rubbery walls with no purchase at all. She had to get out, had to get free, or else she -<br /><br />ULGCRK! Lapras&#039;s muscles reacted instinctively to Molly&#039;s squirms, her struggling push. Splattering and gushing into her body, fighting down the dull, neat imprints she had been making in favor of a much more streamlined bulge. Sinking what felt like meters at once, the acrid tang of Lapras&#039;s thick and fishy diet bore the breath from her lungs and dragged her down. It was an overbearing hug, the creaking squeeze hitching her progress after that powerful swallow. Everything seemed to lock up around her, and in her numbed, panicked state the mouse almost felt herself gaining purchase. Lifting up into the muscular passage, spiderwebbing saliva gushing and clinging to her sodden fur as she made progress backwards.<br /><br />Molly hung there, feeling the subtle sway of the Pokemon&#039;s neck.... Then a croon began. A soft, reverberant quake soaking into her body, the Lapras&#039;s voice rich and melodic, questioning as she felt the muscles squeeze, shiver. Each instinctive flutter of gullet grabbing and pulling at her, legs down to head fighting futilely to pull her deeper, yet... Lapras&#039;s neck refused to give and let her deeper, and she made no progress.<br /><br />What happened? Am I too much? Molly blinked. The frustration in that thought surprised her, her cheeks feeling warmer. No, Lapras bent her neck, she&#039;s... she&#039;s stopped swallowing me. Then it registered to her. She had started to struggle. She had resisted the Lapras in her fretful fear, and even as she hung there, she felt her body urging her to thrash. It was all she could do to keep herself from lashing out her limbs, powerless as they felt wrapped up in Lapras&#039;s throat. <br /><br />Her eyes closed tight, little lights blossoming against the panicked fear in her chest. Every nerve in her body called for her to struggle against the Pokemon&#039;s grasp, caught in the slimy oozing fingers of the next possessive tug. The natural flexing press of muscles seemed to crush the thought from her, pull and drag at each breath. Every muscle clearly wanted to swallow her down, hungered for her. Thmp, thmp, interspersed with the bounding beat of that massive heart, stirred up in a clear mix of excitement, and... gentle care. Lapras had stopped for her. <br /><br />I want her to take me, Molly reassured herself, a quieter voice calling out that she knew exactly where this led. Yet like the Lapras had stopped her throat itself, Molly tamped down her struggles. She took a deep breath, straining against the smothering muscles that fought to keep her collected. Despite her self-assurance, she couldn&#039;t stop her tail&#039;s fitful lashing, that small betrayal of true fear... But she found herself rolling her shoulder, turning her chest and pushing up... Though up was down, down into the Lapras&#039;s abyssal depths, it wasn&#039;t much of a movement. Even from without, only subtly distending the Pokemon&#039;s creamy neck, but she hoped her predator would understand. Another wriggle, a shimmy, this time fighting forward. Take me, she urged. Please don&#039;t listen to my fears.<br /><br />How could she communicate that to the Lapras? Whenever she moved, whenever she squirmed waves of pressure clasped and clamped down, pushing her muzzle closed, lifting into her chest. Each concussive wave of muffling flesh swallowed her sounds and blunted her squeaks. Whenever Molly felt she could get purchase, the ever-shifting flesh collapsed and pushed her hands down to her sides again. Maybe... she squirmed, then caught herself, held her instincts that told her to struggle and push. Maybe it didn&#039;t have to be an action? <br /><br />She willed herself to breathe in, fighting the compressive and possessive squeeze of gulletflesh around her chest. A voice in her mind screamed, its voice fluttering in the gale rush of her beating heart, telling her to kick and wriggle free, but she silenced it with a squelching squish of her ear into the yielding muscles all about. That frightful voice, the fitful fear wasn&#039;t her. It reared up again, the dull voice calling for her to strike out, break free... then, the thought stalled.<br /><br />Break free to what? Sudden strength welled up in her chest, and her eyes opened into the slick, glittering red-black darkness of Lapras&#039;s throat. Back to the boring day-to-day life of the bridge? Would she really let her fear win, again? The claustrophobic, clinging grasp of fishy, slimy flesh squeezing down into her was somehow infinitely more freeing. Her tail lashed - for a moment she&#039;d forgotten how deep she was, only to find itself caught against muscles, flicking up its tip just barely in the pokemon&#039;s jaws, along her feet, met by the almost loving curl of that broad, supple tongue.<br /><br />The world around her stilled, but for the quivering heat of flesh wrapped around her. Then, after a heart-pounding few moments measured by the slow pulse around her, a querying croon murmured up around her. Lapras&#039;s muscles rippled instinctively, fighting the dipping kink in her neck that kept Molly from sliding deeper. There was only one way to answer the question, with her words silenced in smothering flesh and fishy heat. Molly kicked her way forward, pushing against the open air to try to burrow her way past the too-tight flesh. It was like trying to dive under the covers of her bed freshly made, tucked beneath her mattress - an impossible task unless something gave, especially when everything was so slippery, gushing against her limbs and squishing into her sides. Every push seemed only to squish her in place, until-<br /><br />Glrck. The world spun around her, her stomach dropped out from under her, and everything seemed to tumble as Lapras finally understood. Slimy, oozing muscles rippled and flexed over Molly, scrunching around her body and tugging her down as that tight, abyssal tunnel yielded just enough to allow her through. An urgent rush of flesh squished around her, dragging her deeper and deeper in. Flesh wrapped around her hips, tugged her over the brink and past the glimmering, moonlit river beneath the Village Bridge. Another toss jostled her around, yet this time secure, tight flesh kept her from whipping about, swelling waterproof blubber shielding her from the chill of the outside world. She imagined she could feel the moment she broke the surface of the frigid water and into the deepest depths of the seafaring Pokemon&#039;s body.<br /><br />There was only a hint of blunted fangs grabbing her ankles, holding her steady, then a practiced shove upwards. Gone was any hesitation, replaced by ravenous and needy desire. Ulgck, Lapras was devouring her, pure and simple. Molly&#039;s heart fluttered, tail lashing as though it could somehow escape the clenching waves of her fleshy cave, but all connection to the outside world was lost.<br /><br />Noisy, heavy swallows cascaded into her sensitive ears. Each one left her head swimming, powerful and ceaseless pressure rushing down her legs, squishing her arms to her sides, smearing and flattening her ears down. So close into the flesh she could hear the moment she passed Lapras&#039;s heart, the heavy pulse stamping into her spine, pressing down into her with each new surge of life. It was so close, so nearby, yet so far away as each drumbeat seemed to spread into the blanketing coat of muscles and slime smearing her fur down. <br /><br />Molly felt her clothes clinging to her body, the oozing weight dragging her down almost as effectively as each swallow. Should she have disrobed? Did that even matter anymore? Her feet passed the thick, heavy base of the Pokemon&#039;s tongue and joined her as she felt gushing, swelling flesh close over her. She&#039;d already been hidden from the world, but the finality of that swallow shoving her downwards only punctuated the moment. A momentary imagining of her swell crossed her mind, dulled curves on display through the creature&#039;s neck, each wave and swallow squishing her down only to swell out again. In the red-black darkness, the squelching, cloying envelope of flesh her mind wandered, guided by wave after wave of almost crushing muscles right back into the sauna-like heat surging to push her deeper.<br /><br />Quaking flesh stirred her from her wandering mind. Lapras was moving, the muddied hint of water breaking over fins a far off realization through so many layers of flesh - glrrruck! Demanding pressure crashed over her ears, a surging tidal wave of a ravenous swallow shunted her down and around that last bend. It started from her feet, but her body seemed to keep moving into a gushing splotch. A wet splatter met smeared her cheek into a tight ring of muscular flesh, a slimy, fleshy kiss greeting her with an almost loving care. She had only a moment to contemplate the final portal int Lapras&#039;s gut, aftershock swallows squishing her whiskers to her cheek, pressing her in against it. It felt much too tight, her whiskers told her, right up into the moment when it gave, gushed past her face. Instincts lit aflame. Deep inside her mind was telling her she would fit perfectly through that ring of malleable muscle, a realization only stoked by the groaning, grumbling hunger greeting her. Her body twisted, only to meet another, almost reassuring wave of muscles.<br /><br />Did Lapras think her no more than a fish? It felt like she could only manage a distressed flopping, even as the Pokemon&#039;s stomach greeted her with open folds, met her cheek with a squish of pillowy, steamy flesh. It was a tender kiss compared to the almost crushing heat of gulletflesh squeezing her in. Muscles fluttered up into her, a jostling jolt along her chin as everything rolled in, grabbed around her and pulled in along the next swallow. Cascading gulletflesh shoved her into Lapras&#039;s belly all at once. Coherent thoughts scattered like a wave breaking over rock, buffeted into the squishy, slimy, mind-numbing squelch slathering and gushing into her. Chest, arms, hips, legs. One moment she was stretched out along a long, sleek neck and the next she was packed into a too-tight bundle.<br /><br />Without even thinking about it she pushed her footpaws out, only to meet the cinching flex of muscles closing behind her. No purchase to be found, nor it seemed like any hint of where she came from. Only cushy, squishy muscles, the slimy heat of flesh smothering into her like a weighted blanket too heavy to lift. Still, she tried, as though she could push it off as simply as she might toss aside bedding. Her hands pushed into the flesh, only to slither and slide between folds, the kicking push of her legs only sending her into a tumble, only to thrash into another frog-kick. Thick, powerful muscles and cushy fat absorbed every blow, every motion. Giving just enough to let her feel her confines, yet never enough to offer her any true purchase.<br /><br />Splrtch, a clenching wave squeezed down into her, closing and collapsing walls wadding her into a so-much-tighter space than it&#039;d seemed rushing in. Then, calm. The ravenous struggle of swallowing her stilled, into a slimy, slathering caress of almost-tender flesh. The not-far-off heartbeat pulsed above her, a subtle flutter to its cadence speaking of lingering excitement in her predator&#039;s core. Aftershock squeezes and subtle, shimmering waves of peristalsis rolled wet, oozing warmth into every inch of her body. Lapras was getting used to her... Where was she going? Everything rose and fell around Molly.<br /><br />Worry and doubt nibbled into her, each step of stomach folds rolling and kissing into her making her think of the bridge, what the others might say. Yet, each time she seemed to worry about what others would think of her abandoning her duties, Lapras&#039;s stomach compressed and squitched heavily into her body. A smothering wave silencing anxious thoughts at their source. Instead replaced with the reality of muscles pushing her into a tighter ball, pushing her head between her legs and smearing torrid flesh into every crook of her body. Danger fluttered across her mind, and yet... she found her kicks subsiding. She had wanted this, she reminded herself. Desperate heat oozed into her, rolled over her mind. Not a sound of discomfort had left the Lapras, despite her mindless shoves. I did it, she realized. Doubt crept into her. I gave myself to her. After how many years, I&#039;m going into the unknown...<br /><br />Glrrrn, hungry gutflesh bubbled up around her, a merry groan lifting and rolling along her cheeks, flexing a moment tighter, before finally relaxing, relenting. Letting up, only to squeeze again as a natural orchestra of the Pokemon&#039;s body all around her. Subtle creaks and shifts far off mixed with the muted billow of Lapras&#039;s lungs. What would it be like, her first adventure? Would it hurt? A voice in the back of her mind told her that she was in a ferocious beast&#039;s stomach, that she had to escape, yet that same ferocity left her cheeks with a confusing warmth. Squeeze, flex, glrck, each gush of flesh was a light, lazy roll that pushed down into her body and folded over her in the dull bob and sway of the river that carried Lapras away. <br /><br />\tViscous, slimy heat nearly made her forget the frigid chill of water that had to be just on the other side of her confine. A thin, slimy puddle pooled around her, lapping light gushes at her shoulders, met her and squished along her. She&#039;d ended up on her back in her struggles, she realized, looking up. It was impossible to tell in the darkness until she followed the oozing drizzle of fluids behind her. Clench.<br /><br />She struggled, a fitful and fretful push of her hands dimpling into snug flesh around her. Lapras&#039;s muscles yielded enough to let her press outwards, into crooks between folds and stretch out enough that she imagined she might be visible, were Lapras&#039;s underbelly not hidden beneath waves. Yet after a few inches it was a solid wall of muscle, a restrictive layer of blubber and thick heat squelching between her fingers. Worse, when she dug her heels in and pushed her feet into the stomach, the muscles spasmed and pressed in with a reflexive scrunch. What was once giving, lightly yielding flesh insisted she curl back up, a crushing wave that collapsed all around her forcing her back into a ball even tighter than the first few squeezes. Mixed with a hungry glrrrble of sluicing fluids filling her crevices, oozing into her body and bare fur. It reached everywhere, it-<br /><br />Wait, she realized, eyes widening as though it might help in the darkness, my clothes...? With her arms clamped to her sides, it was a herculean task to move and check, but her hands slid over her sodden, damped fur. Thick, rich slime met her fingertips, and for the first time as she focused on herself, she felt a nibbling tingle bristling along her hide, especially her feet, hands, and cheeks which hadn&#039;t been covered before. Lapras was digesting her... not just that, but her clothes had already melted. Had it not only been a few moments? Time seemed to be immaterial, besides the dull tempo of the Pokemon&#039;s heartbeat drumming above her. The steady grumble and gurgling heat surrounding her swallowing every other noise behind its eager intent. The minutes bled together, though when she focused on that heartbeat it was easier to realize... her mind was wandering, aided by the reassuring, desirous gush cushioning and rubbing into her from every angle. A hitch rolled beneath her, lifted her up and pressed her into the ceiling of that chamber in a yielding kiss of pillowy muscles. Her fear was a dull voice in the back of her head, a candle in a thunderstorm unable to reach her limbs with its light.<br /><br />Pulsing flesh lapped at her, cresting her body with grumbling slime. The sticky trickle of thick hunger alit her from every angle. Pushed her left, then right, into another pining squeeze that begged to claim every inch of her body for the Lapras. All beset by that great, calming heartbeat. Somehow, it was right, perhaps despite the screaming instincts that still brought her to distressed little kicks. Molly belonged, for once, in this place she had chosen. There was no denying she had, she&#039;d urged the Lapras to take her. Fizzling heat suffused itself into her body, a dull soft ache beneath the bristling squeeze. It was intimate, body to body, feeling her predator cling and squeeze into every inch of her body, every motion belonging to Lapras alone, oozing from her back, squeezing along her rear, tail, legs, sides, all the way up to her head once more.<br /><br />She gave a half-hearted push, shoving herself through the swampy mixture pooling around her, a dull slorsh... only to find a different tickle clinging to her palm. Fur. Molly squeaked, but her voice felt quieter as it resounded across the spongy flesh. A dull quaver, a soft ripple muted even further by the embrace of water around her predator. She kicked and pushed, shoving herself forward with her legs and twisted herself about. Stirred from her steamy stupor, from the hungry quelling squeeze of each too relaxing churn and flex of muscles, the mouse panicked. Trying to find the right angle to push herself upwards only to meet the impenetrable ceiling of the Pokemon&#039;s belly. Curling in on herself again, as her ears were pushed to her head. Where was the entrance? She had to escape, had to get out, it had to be nearby-<br /><br />Glrptch, Lapras&#039;s muscles fluttered and drove her back down. Reflexively responding to her struggles and pushing her grasp down, her paws slipped and slid across the slimy folds of flesh, and she lost her footing. Molly&#039;s head nearly knocked into her knees, the powerful vice clamp insisting she stay, belong, and digest. Acrid, stifling, oppressive waves and thick heat pressed to her and kept the muscles from squeezing flush into her. That fishy, heated air was offering a dull layer of protection with nowhere to go... until she felt it. A subtle scrunch of muscles irised open at the small of her back, far beyond where she had guessed it would be, then a quaking rumble quivered her confines as the Pokemon belched.<br /><br />Flesh quaked all around her, turning into a clamping and grinding squeeze of sodden flesh that devoured all the extra space she&#039;d once had. It felt like every morsel of air was shoved free of her slimy home. The too-tight entrance at far the wrong angle to push back through, though she tried to push herself about, slither and shimmy her way towards it, Lapras&#039;s body was adept at keeping a thrashing meal down. Then it was gone, closed before her. It didn&#039;t&#039; stop her struggle, turning herself to get an angle to press her palms to that opening, though everything felt hotter, thicker, each movement was so much harder, like crawling her way through thick molasses without a single foothold besides the cradling, hungry folds all too eager to catch her when she fell. Then it was over, and she was left simmering, head swimming, little bot rolling flesh greeting her from every side.<br /><br />Gentle as Lapras had been, the Pokemon&#039;s stomach was relentless. No thought in its instinctive attendance over Molly&#039;s body, and no new air came down to greet her as each muscle churned and pushed into her. A lifting, tight squeeze pulling across her body, dragging the dull, numbing heat across her flesh. Each squeeze felt rougher, firmer, as though her predator&#039;s body could feel her yielding and losing strength. There was almost a dull bite of acidic heat, yet... everything felt pliant, softer, stickier. Thick and clinging, her limbs seeming to meet and twist easier and easier with each radiant lurch squishing into her. <br /><br />Escape... dull panic pulsed in her mind, found strength in her to push and twitch into the flesh. How, how had she let it come so far? What was she thinking when...<br /><br />Before she could get lost in her panic, a resonating thrum soaked through the clinging flesh all around her. A familiar trill soaked into the world around her... the humming, crystalline tone of Lapras&#039;s voice on the air, singing the song of the river. The same haunting tune that&#039;d caught at her mind and pulled her into this adventure draped curtains across the world. This time, though, it had a thicker tenor, an almost celebratory trill and upward swing to its notes. From forlorn lonesomeness, into a swooping churn... the muscles around her reassuring her tumultuous and lightheaded panic. If she hadn&#039;t seen the Lapras&#039;s self-control firsthand, she might have termed it a siren&#039;s song meant to lure unwary prey away. Yet, each note was a reminder of Lapras&#039;s own hesitance. It would have been easy to grab and devour a mouse lured astray... A single ice beam to someone with not a Pokemon to her name, a surf washing her off the shore...<br /><br />Her muscles relaxed. She let the tides of Lapra&#039;s belly guide her back into a curl, curtains of flesh that pressed her into a snug bundle. Beneath the covers, lost in a fantastical adventure... Yet it was so much more real in each glrrrgling gush of wet, oozing flesh cinching tighter. She didn&#039;t need to go anywhere, be anywhere besides where she was... Lapras would take care of her. Squeeze, churn, her fear was tamped down to a single smoldering mote buried beneath thick inches of weighty and reassuring flesh.<br /><br />Red-black heat cinched down around her and pressed and smothered into her body, and the dull lap of river waves outside was droned out by the dull beating pulse of the Pokemon&#039;s heartbeat. Molly&#039;s senses frayed, frazzled, feeling like cut wires tingling with electrical energy at each nerve-tip, eased and pressed where she belonged by the constant collapsing flexes that clenched down into her. She should have feared her situation, some dull part of her wit told her, but all worry had fled her in the face of the almost reassuring dance of stomach muscles touching, pressing, squeezing her in time to Lapras&#039;s lulling song. Every inch of her bare body was alit with the bristling joy. Questions quieted, her fretful squirms and lashing tail grew heavier, heavier, until finally, she burrowed in. In her mind an image of her whiskers pressed into the Pokemon&#039;s flesh, pushed into the groaning crooks of her core, and she finally drifted into blackness.<br /><br />Outside, a puff of chilly air rushed from Lapras&#039;s maw, her eyes lidded as she focused on her mouse&#039;s last few moments. Then the frigid air became steam with a rich belch, and she felt her meal give in and yield to the consuming squeezes. A small cloud of sticky white enzyme-soaked fur escaped and floated down to land amidst the subtle waves of Route 11&#039;s River. The village bridge glittered far off in the north, couched by the trees where it crossed the river, but it was a far-off memory. Her mouse was free... and her belly was full of a treat beyond compare. <br /><br />Week after week, she&#039;d heard the mouse&#039;s plaintive thoughts... now the anxious creature was hers. Free from fear, free from expectations that had caged her adventurous spirit. Lapras opened her eyes again, beholding the widening mouth of the river as it met the ocean. Together, they would become a legend.<br /><br />The village stirred with rumor as dawn broke over it, its hushed tale of the ghostly songstress willowing tendrils into innocent ears from beneath the bridge. A beautiful voice, rich with emotion that tugged people from their beds and into the dead of night. Away and into another world entirely, elders warned their children, beware of the song when it came. Lest they, too, vanish into the night.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;PAGE&nbsp;&nbsp; \\* MERGEFORMAT&nbsp;&nbsp;2 <br /><br />Secret Song of the Bridge<br /><br />By Emberell<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;PAGE&nbsp;&nbsp; \\* MERGEFORMAT&nbsp;&nbsp;2 <br /><br /></span>",
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