â€œIf you want, youâ€™d probably be well off going to see if anyoneâ€™s run into trouble. I know you like caves, but youâ€™ll probably get bored with us all standing around talking, right? I can send Othello, Shades, or Kicks with you, though Othelloâ€™s probably more useful for spotting trouble. Itâ€™s up to you, though.â€<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Or causing it</span>, Irvine thought to himself as he listened to his trainer. He was aware of, if not terribly invested in, the Murkrow's rivalry with him. He represented a threat to Othello's position as the "leader" of Jack's team by being both difficult to manipulate and far too strong to bully around, while Othello was simply a nuisance that needed to be put in its place from time to time so that the Sneasel could do as he pleased. He was more than content with his position and possessed no desire to push Kicks or Shades into doing things for him, but that didn't seem good enough for the bird. Things tended to get particularly bad whenever they stole things from each other, which happened quite often even without either one being provoked. It was simply in their nature.<br/><br/>â€œ...But maybe the scientists will ignore you if you follow me given the upcoming ritual.â€<br/><br/>Irvine shuddered for a second, the memory of his last direct encounter with a Kanto scientist far from forgotten. Jack's colleagues in Unova had not adequately prepared him for the kind of fanaticism that he'd had to deal with since, and they had already been too persistent in their attempts to study him themselves. As an exotic species, and a rare one even in his native region, he was apparently quite the prize for a junior professor to be carrying around. Some of the nearby researchers were already sporting familiar looks of mixed intrigue and surprise that didn't quite sit well with him, and earning hostile glares in response.<br/><br/>It didn't require much thought for him to take Jack up on the offer, considering the alternative. He nodded and took off on all fours into the passage ahead, breaking off at the first divergence he could find that wasn't clearly occupied by members of the Professor's staff. What little help Othello was capable of providing him - and even that depended on whether the bird felt cooperative or not - was very unlikely to be worth the trouble of either putting up with its petty torments or hauling its frozen and unconscious body around for the rest of the night. He didn't want to be held responsible if it disobeyed Jack's orders and flew off without him either, which he knew it would the instant it realized that such a thing would make his life harder.<br/><br/>Besides, he was faster, his ears were far sharper, and he didn't need distractions while he was out hunting.<br/><br/>With nothing holding him back, it didn't take long for Irvine to find something that wasn't an irate Zubat or a restless Geodude. He could hear something walking - not flapping or crawling, but walking - somewhere far ahead of him. There was a bright light further down the path that spread out in all directions, which made it difficult to identify just what the source was when his eyes were adapted to the darkness. Not wanting to disturb the creature, which could have been a Clefairy for all he knew of the things, he crept up on it silently until he was only a few steps away.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, the creature was a human. Worse, it was the vanishing kid that had shrieked at him back on Route 3. He was wandering around with some kind of beacon or lantern on his back and looking like he was searching for something while his Cubone struggled against the surrounding wildlife. This posed a difficult problem for Irvine, as he did not wish to be found but could not interpret the scene unfolding before him as anything but the very trouble he was expected to solve, clandestine organizations notwithstanding. There was also the significant possibility that the child would flee from him again if caught by surprise, which was looking like an inevitability with how oblivious he was being.<br/><br/>The Sneasel put some distance between himself and Odd, stood upright, and let out a soft cry. He almost hoped that the kid would vanish anyways and let him get back to his own search, but the chance of them both looking for the same thing kept him from forcing the matter. Instead, he approached with a look of pure apathy upon his face and waited for the screaming to start.