NERVES

     a walk.      her ever-present ‘ bodyguards ‘ had practically dragged the poor young woman outside KICKING and SCREAMING. something about the two getting stir-crazy, so obviously their trainer was beginning to get the same way ?     neither the incineroar nor the grimmsnarl really had any clue as to how alice could stay cooped up indoors for days at a time. she was FAMOUS. famous people were supposed to make APPEARANCES, right ?      well. yes and no.      it wasn’t exactly a requirement, but it kept her fans at ease, and as an extension the media didn’t do its usual and have the rumor mill start fabricating things. so they’d dragged her out, insisting that a walk would aid with the writing process… and even if it didn’t, she’d get fresh air. it had seemed like such a good idea at the time.      until a rogue pokemon had charged the trio.

     licorice is the first to spring into action, the massive monster-like being taking a few steps to intercept the creature. massive hands reach out and grab the half-and-half pokemon by its… f-fins ? before it’s flung away. churro in the midst of the action, made sure to grab the tiny idol and move her aside.      ❝ uhm. d–did… what just happened ? ❞ 

   Ranger finds himself completely stunned--standing and staring uselessly as the monstrosity of a Pokemon is halted, grabbed, and thrown. Complexion already pale turns ghostly, and a tick of time is lost before Armiin returns to reality, stumbles upon his own feet and rushes forward to close distance between he, downed Pokemon, and idol surrounded by bodyguards. 

   --At the very least, it seemed Armiin hadn’t any familiarity with those chosen Pokemon, but certainly, he was more rattled by the entire scene that played before his eyes.

   “I--I am SO s-sorry--”

   He begins, barely spitting those shaken words out when jerking to a stop beside the dragon split Pokemon, who, was having trouble getting itself back to feet without the use of any arms. The creature flails, little fins flapped about and large legs kicked, and it seems the ranger would have trouble getting arms beneath the Dracovish without getting slapped in the face by those unneeded additions. Armiin grunts, the Dracovish gurgles, and it’s a--...rather pathetic scene of Pokemon and trainer struggling to get the damned thing to its feet.

Nicholas was exhausted. Having his own practice instantly followed with his weekly scrimmage against the kids team had left him sweaty and short of breath. That being said, he couldn’t get the huge smile off his face from how much fun he and the kids were having out on the ice. He hopped off the ice, and jumped in the locker room shower to freshen up.

Freshly showered after practice, Nicholas walked out into the lobby. He walked over to the front desk, the Gym Guide giving him a smile and wave on his way by. Nicholas stopped, when he felt a rush of cold winter air come in through the door. He turned his head to see a small, gaunt man slip into the building.

The stranger began speaking, and upon hearing his request for help, Nicholas put on a big smile and walked over to the man, throwing a large arm around the man’s shoulder.

“Well it seems you’re in the right place! What do you need, friend?”

   Not even a moment to lift his head before strong arm catches him; the ranger in the very instant feeling as if all hell had froze over in the way his body turns statuesque. Heart skips beat, and eyes ringed with exhaustion lift wide and startled, never expecting the man he sought for to gravitate with touch.

   No words sound, nothing but a withered wheeze, and all at once, that lanky body begins to squirm and escape the leader’s arm. Stuttered steps taken back, and fingers rise up to tug along the neck of crimson uniform as if to clear airway and catch his breath. Body shudders, hands begin to smooth down wrinkled vest, and voice cracks at the edges when forcing another bout of speech.

   “I--I need the--the gym leader--”

   Anxiety toils, the lingering sensation of touch causing his nerves to twist, but with a heaved chest manage does the ranger to continue. Sometimes, one of nature loved his job, and other times, he wished to merely crawl into a hole and hide.

   The city atmosphere never was favored by man of nature--doing his very best to avoid the crowded streets at any and all cost; but misfortune would come to light as word of the nearby desert’s already dangerous sands being guarded by a Pokemon of ferocious stature. While the Ranger was skilled, had gained his title for being able to calm such beasts, it seemed he may have been outmatched. 

   --That, is when he finds himself outside the doors of Norite’s gym. Vivid eyes stare blank at the large doors, anxiety coiled and settling a knot within the pit of his stomach, but if one was to clear the path? A trainer skilled more than he was requested. Armiin swallows, hands uneasy when fiddling with the hemming of uniform, but with one, shuddered breath, palm is out and grasping against the handles. A pull, a pause, and yet another inhale needed before rushing inside through a crack just wide enough to slip through. 

   “Ex-....excuse me?”

   Hesitant tone pipes, and eyes are trailed to nothing more than his boots--the ranger unaware if the leader was even present, and despite such, he continues to force his voice.

   Ranger feels whatever coloration face still held begin to drain; helplessly watching as Pokemon formed by misconstruction rushes rampant instantly once the glow of pokeball’s release diminishes. Body of one and head of another Dracovish clumsily wobbles forward, and despite its top-heavy form, still manages to gain a semblance of speed--...and use that speed to go directly forward, and directly toward the presence of another.

   “O-oh--...oh no.               Watch--watch out!”

   Barely did ranger find himself time to adorn uniform let alone bring supplies; makeshift camp left unattended with all he needed as hurried footsteps are sent off-path of the road to Kenyte. Faint cry in the distance, a flutter of wings and the rustle of leafs, Armiin finds himself stumbling upon the commotion; but it seemed, none were left but one, lonely Murkrow. 

   Feathered Pokemon weak in its cries stays grounded unlike its kin, left wing splayed and crooked in the middle; a tall-tell sign of an injured wing. Ranger sighs his relief that it be a creature of small stature, but still ever careful is he in attempting to lure, speak, and convince the crow that he was no threat. It takes time--but it seems, injury wins over instinct, and eventually is he allowed to scoop up the Murkrow and begin the journey back to camp. 

   “Ju-just a little further. Pro-promise.”

   And while such a promise was kept, it was met with dismay when camp was in sight, and in ruins. Bags strewn about, supplies taken, and even the shelter itself was now laid flat upon the ground. Whether it be thieves, or thieving Pokemon was unclear--but, he hadn’t the mind to worry on such now. A mere sigh, brow quirked in irritation, but with breath taken, it seemed he had no other choice than to continue on toward Kenyte ‘lest the poor crow continue to suffer.

   While main path was not ideal, it would ultimately, be his quickest route--even if it meant the busiest. Though, perhaps, if he’d come across a trainer with supply to spare--

   Nerves swallowed, intentions clear, and but minutes to walk upon carved path and in sight a form draws near. Little Murkrow in arms lets out a soft caw, as if to be sure that ranger noticed, and as he had, it took all the will one could muster to even approach the oncoming breeder.

   “Ex--excuse me--!”

   Voice trails, words stumbled, but with one, heavy breath, eyes are clamped shut as he stands ground; as if he was some barrier ready to tumble right on over to the slightest of breeze.

‘Ey, it is Dusty again, aka, cowboy man Ike Parish. Back at it again with Armiin, who, was involved in Agron’s last run! Armiin is an extremely anxious Pokemon Ranger who crumbles under pressure and cries when he sees cute videos of baby pokemon. He’s really just doing his best.

her gaze briefly peers over the lenses of her sunglasses, her curiosity driven to the large blur of brown and white lowering onto the man’s shoulder. she can’t quite tell what it is–– despite it’s size and stature, as well as how close it was to her face, but she didn’t need to know what kind of pokemon it was to know it was a powerful one.

❝ was that one hurt as well? ❞ she asks, fingers absentmindedly peels a piece of gauze away from the rest of her items, pressing it down on the cleaned wound. ❝ i can treat any pokemon of yours as well, if they need it. ❞

aria checks her work briefly, her head tilting towards her blissey for a brief moment; as though she’s asking if she’s done okay. it takes a few brief moments, but with a small hum from the pokemon, she seems to be happy with the answer and proceeds to wrap gauze around his arm.

a small sigh leaves her lips. ❝ since it’s not too bad of a wound itself, i’d say redress it every bath-time. if it gets any worse, head to a doctor. ❞

she crosses her arms over her chest, huffing a small sigh out of her lips as she gestures a finger towards him.

❝ as a ranger, you should be more careful. who’ll take care of all the wildlife here if you end up getting yourself killed? ❞

;;–{ ✿ } 

   Armiin’s silence lingers, thick in his throat as if he’d choke on it in any attempt to speak; the only seeming comfort able to be gained given from the large, prehistoric beast clung to his shoulder. The Ranger’s will to keep himself steady was quickly faltering, and toward the last bit of mending his arm quivers, fingers curled together loosely when wanting to pull the limb away. 

       “Wh-what--? No, she--she is alright. C-came to my aid to scare th-the pack off, b-but she is uninjured.”

   The man barely seems to manage to choke his words out, and the instant bandages are tied off and his limb is freed does it pull close to his chest; teeth bared in a sharp wince to the quick movement. The fingers of his opposite clamp against the bandaged wound, holding it close to his chest in a cradle, eyes of shimmering greens shifted left, right, then back down to the dirt of the forest floor. Seeming shame seems to dawn upon him, more so given from the mender’s scolding, and the Ranger only curls in on himself if that much more.

       “I--...another w-would merely ta-take my place, but I understand wh-what it is you mean.”

   Stammering and mumbling the Ranger seems to lack any thread of confidence despite his position of duty, and a harsh clear of his throat is all that is given when tapering off with whispered gratitude. 

          now that he was actually within the safety of the stranger’s make-shift shelter, damian had to admit: this was GOOD. the guy had to be some kind of mountain man, or something, to have built this up. though, he wasn’t sure why anyone would want to be out in the wilderness long enough they they had to learn to adapt in situations like these. damian stretched out his arms and began a poor attempt to dry himself, shaking of the excess water. 

he refocused his gaze on the kind man sharing his space. he scoffed when the other didn’t give a clear response, scowling with all the irritation that had amounted since the beginning of his mission ( which was A LOT ). damian moved to get closer to the fire and plopped down, letting out a long, over dramatic yawn. he scooted in as close as he could get without lighting himself on fire, sticking out his hands to warm them up.

❝huh? what’d you say?❞ damian demanded asked, his tone low as if daring the man to try and speak out against him, ❝we’re both trainers, right?❞ and suddenly, damian put on a sharp grin─ a mockery of sorts─ ❝and trainers help each other out, yea?❞ damian smiled at that, treading his fingers through his wet bangs. 

❝some shelter you got ‘ere. you do this a lot?❞ damian inquired, somewhat sarcastically. he didn’t really care, but making pointless ‘friendly’ conversation with strangers was polite ( funny joke )! ❝how long ‘till this storm passes? i got shit to do. shit that can’t get done when i can’t see nothin’.❞ he followed up, kicking his legs out to the side. he scanned the shelter once more, eyes locking onto the pile of blankets stowed in the corner. 

❝oi, you gonna pass me one of those, or what?❞

;;–{ ✿ } 

   The stranger’s abrasive attitude was enough to leave a man as skittish as the Ranger speechless, watching as he rather impolitely made himself at home. While Damian settled down for warmth and relaxation, Armiin stood stiff as a statue, nothing but those green eyes tracking wherever the man decided to move. Just who was this guy? 

   Armiin’s discomfort twists into a grimace, slender, calloused fingers beginning to toy and fidget with the hemming of his coat. He very well couldn’t send this man away given the severity of weather, but he also didn’t want him to stay here. The various questions that arise aren’t inherently ignored, more so, there is a disconnect that doesn’t allow him to respond, merely nodding or shaking his head as he felt appropriate. The only thing that seems to garner any response is the question of the storm, to which he merely mumbles his response. 

       “I--I...am not s-sure. An hour, p-perhaps two at most.”

   Oh would he pray for but ten minutes of downpour, but Armiin never was known for his lucky streaks. Despite the admin taking refuge in his camp Armiin never quite even gives him a look over, takes no strides in remembering the face, and doesn’t even contemplate asking for a name. The Ranger could have blissfully sent his mind elsewhere to merely coexist with the other, but that final question raises his attention and bristles his shoulders. 

       “Pass--...oh.”

@rangerinstinct

With how much Damian traveled around Esha and its devouring forests, empty plains, the vast desert, and more, Myra would have thought that she would have been stationed in a city, or something. It looked as if the boss had something else planned for her, and Myra would never challenge him nor his slightly questionable decisions, such as now.

In comparison to Asta, Esha was warm, homey, and its denizens super friendly. The air was fresh, clean, and the sky was so blue and bright that it reminded her of a painting if anything else. Despite its natural beauty, Asta was her home; it was a place she had familiarized herself with since she was a little girl. She’s used to the cold and harsh climates, to rude jerks almost purposefully bumping into her on the streets of the big cities. The difference between the two sections of land were too much that it was almost baffling to consider both Esha and Asta as part of one region.

But for how long? A small part of her wondered what would happen once Team Evolution completely took over Asta and then geared for Esha. Would the latter defend themselves and start an all out war to return to the way things were before? It was hard to tell, and quite frankly Myra didn’t even want to think of the future right now. 

Her eyes were set on the present, or rather the ruins she was supposed to investigate. 

The grunts under her charge were promptly deployed no sooner they arrived at Heather Fields. Everyone was to be paired and proceed with caution due to the maze that separated them from the ruins. Myra and her partner, Emmie, were among the first to actually enter the maze itself. Through twists and turns they walked, and walked and walked until, at some point, Emmie was gone.

Dread pool in the pit of her stomach as she tried to retrace her steps, but Myra didn’t remember if the last turn she made was a right or left, and thus further got herself entangled within the infamous maze.

As much as she hated to, she had to call for help, she had to try. There was no way this was going to be the end of the line for her, right…? 

“Can anyone hear me?” Her cries fled into the approaching dusk sky. It only made her heart race and her pleas for help more and more fretful. “Hello? I need some help! I’m…lost…” The last two words were but a soft, damning whisper of realization that shook her to her very core.

;;–{ ✿ } 

   It did not matter how often the Ranger’s feet stepped within that damned maze, each time brought more and more reluctance than the last. Infamous for lost trainers and citizens alike, it was but apart of his duty to seek and return, to aid those twisted within to the light of freedom. Of course, the man could not go about it alone, lest he find himself lost and unlikely to be found; but delving fingers to his belt and unlatching a netted Pokeball, the sphere is opened with a ‘click!’, and the luminescence that expels forms into a small, dragonfly-like creature moving about a mile a minute. 

       “Alright, Dahlia, I--I’m right b-behind you.” 

   With that, the Yanma soars up high, zipping about above the maze as a second pair of eyes for the Ranger, as well as a guide to follow. With one, much needed inhale, Armiin braves the twists and turns of uncertain fate, heavy boots traveling a somewhat familiar path. 

   Never had he been one to keep track of time, allowing it to slip away when so focused on where he turned; ungloved fingers reached out just enough to trail along the lush foliage that blocked him inside. That flickering gaze scours upwards, taking note of where Yanma flew, then back down again, an absent mind continuing to lead in an ominous silence. Unfortunately for Armiin, though, that silence was broken; a call for help sending a chill up his spine. In an instant his tracks stop, lips pressed tight to quiet his breathing and focus on the second call from that unknown source. 

       “H-...hello? Are you lost?”

   He attempts to call over the hedges, that voice not quite used to speaking more than a mere whisper; breaking out with a croak when piquing. Thankfully, as he had stopped, so had Yanma, the Pokemon’s buggy eyes on alert for search of the lost, taking heed from Armiin before flying off over each wall before finding who it was who called out.

       “Yanma wi-will lead you to--to me, don’t b-be afraid of her.”

@rangerinstinct

❝ don’t move. ❞

she doesn’t speak very loudly, the soft yet clear tone to her voice being more than enough for the stranger to hear when they’re this far in the wilderness. returning her once sterile tweezers to the pink pokemon beside her, the blissey then hands her over a small bottle of saline solution ( hydrogen peroxide is too harsh on human tissue, she remembers ), and soaks a towelette in the liquid, dabbing it onto the man’s wounds–– obviously not afraid to apply pressure.

if it stung, that was a good thing. she’s supposed to be killing off the bacteria, after all. she’d rather that it gave a little sting than him get an infection.

❝ so? ❞ aria avoids his gaze, instead adjusting the sunglasses on her nose. ❝ how’d a ranger get a wound like this? ❞

;;–{ ✿ } 

   It wasn’t often that Armiin dwelled on the situational form of ‘LUCK’, but when dragging himself out of the mouth of the forest bruised and blooded if only to bump into none other than a medic? Perhaps he could believe in it just for a moment. Ever hesitant in not only drawing near, but for letting a stranger TOUCH him, the gash must have been fairly painful to not wait until he was home to treat himself. 

   Though, seeming to feed off his caution was the rather intimidating Tyrantrum that lingered nearby, reverberating growls only quieted by the Ranger’s soft shushing, and the Pokemon’s large body lowers just enough to rest that heavy head half-way onto Armiin’s shoulder. That doesn’t seem to help the healer’s command of not moving, but the way Ranger’s arm shook when being worked on wasn’t any better, either. 

   In turn, his own eyes flicker toward the dirt, tone trailing in a hoarse, pained murmur as the saline sends that awful, stinging sensation throughout the raw flesh. 

         While the other Sawsbuck was eager to greet his, Jay couldn’t say the same for his own. It has been a while since they’ve seen fellow Sawsbuck, but his was rather shy compared to most. Its ears perked down and it stayed behind its trainer while the Sawsbuck named Cosmos took interest in Jay. At least Cosmos had their eyes off his own Sawsbuck for a little bit.

         Taking this opportunity, Jay held still while the new companion examined him carefully. When he felt the time was right, he stretched his arm slowly, and patted the Pokémon’s nose. Although the Sawsbuck didn’t seem to listen to its trainer, it did seem well-groomed, and Jay was thankful it had a great trainer. But well, he did think great, however…

         They seemed very nervous the moment they saw who he was. Judging by his reaction, the trainer was smart and did their research. They must’ve known that Jay was the Synite Port gym leader. That made introductions a little easier on his part.

          ❝ …Cosmos, was it? ❞ Jay spoke calmly as he was composed, and looked the Pokémon in its eyes. Cosmos was a suitable name. None of his own Pokémon were named (except for one), as he felt he wasn’t that creative.

          ❝ You shouldn’t worry your trainer like that. He seems really shaken. ❞ After giving the Pokémon the attention, he looked over at the owner. They seemed to be calming down. Jay had to admit that he was also nervous, but he didn’t wish to startle the Pokémon before him.

          ❝ Did you need help finding your way back…? I can accompany you. ❞ He wanted to make sure they were completely okay before they went off on their own again.

;;–{ ✿ } 

   Armiin’s gaze flits down to nothing more than muddy boots, absolute refusal given to look the stranger in the eyes; though, it wasn’t out of him being rude as was to being uncomfortable. Pale fingers idly begin to pull and card through ebony tresses, keeping his hands and mind occupied when those questions arise for himself. A breath, then two, and still his eyes refuse to raise despite his tone trailing out barely loud enough for even himself to hear. 

       “Y-yes--...that, uh, is what I--I have named him.”

   During the exchange between trainer’s, Sawsbuck seems more than pleased with the given affection; that damp nose pressed into Jay’s palm in a show of friendliness. Once getting its fill, the Pokemon goes back to peering at the other of its kind, large, brown eyes holding some sense of hopefulness when attempting to round about Jay. With its head dipped low, antlers stick close to the ground, head shaken slow from side to side in a greeting, attempting to nudge antler to antler with the shyer one. 

   The Ranger’s eyes only lift enough to peer over toward the communicating Pokemon, thin lips pressing to a straight as dark brows furrow, worry evident upon scarred features. He hadn’t a clue of this stranger, nor his chosen companion, and he really did not wish to get into any sort of trouble--

       “Huh--? O-oh, no--..I mean, I don’t think so--..yes?”

   Uncertainty lilts in his voice, lips curling in a nervous frown when finally allowing his attention to shift. Flickering hues of green are nothing less than sheepish, a hand raising to simply motion over shoulder. 

          @rangerinstinct ( ft. castor & armiin ! )

               during days where not many trainers made it to the league, castor liked to spend his time hiking through the mountains to relax with his pokemon. the sun was scorching above them, filtering through the leaves and branches of pine trees that towered the forest. castor’s shoes sunk on the soil, and he could almost feel the deep earth moving underneath the soles of his feet. beside him, solace graced through the gnarled roots while his mimikyu stumbled and fell against a nearby rock. 

               ❛ ah, casper, ❜ he murmured, kneeling beside him to carry the tiny pokemon in his arms. ❛ it’s okay. i’ll carry you, instead. ❜

               unfortunately, even his own balance failed him the moment his foot caught a stray vine on the forest floor, sending both him and his pokemon sprawling across the ground. solace rushed towards them in worry, carefully lifting his trainer’s head from the pebbles that darted the wet earth. ❛ ow, ow, ow, ❜ castor whined childishly. he bent his leg closer to his face for inspection, flinching when he saw a large scab right on the knob of his knee. ❛ oh, YIKES, that doesn’t look pretty － but at least my face is okay ! ❜

;;–{ ✿ } 

   While it was not uncommon for Armiin to cross paths of traveling trainers while out and about and checking his usual dwellings, it was a little more unusual to stumble upon them sprawled into the dirt. For a moment, the Ranger pauses when turning the bend, contemplating whether he should approach, or leave the man to his own troubles--...but, upon seeing not only the elite fallen, but the poor Mimikyu who was apart of the collateral damage, Armiin braves the interaction. 

        “Th-this way, Iris.”

   His tone escapes in a hoarse murmur, calling over the nearby Nidoqueen that lumbered in his wake, the Pokemon giving a subtle nod of understanding before following suit. Armiin seems cautious of drawing too near, at least, to the trainer, that is; instead, lowering his towering form to kneel against the forest floor and gingerly place his hands to either side of the dual-type to help it stand again. 

nature, why?

@rangerinstinct

“what the hell.” damian’s expression darkened ( surprisingly enough, since he was already a pretty gloomy guy ) as the first few droplets of rain fell, pattering against his skin. damian groaned─ oh, how he hated being so far from the city. he’d never liked venturing too far out and since most of his jobs were within the main cities of esha, it wasn’t usually a problem.                  ………until he’d been assigned to lead a scouting mission in the hibiscus mountains. 

damian had left the grunts behind a while ago- they had been getting on his nerves- and ventured off the path. THAT was mistake number ONE. the drizzle was growing exponentially. damian knew flash storms were a thing on this damned mountain… but to actually be caught in one─!? damian hated nature. 

the admin groaned loudly, but it was drowned out by the onslaught of rain and wind. drops cascaded down his face. damian shielded his eyes with a hand and risked taking a glance up at the sky. ominous clouds paired with rumbling told him he needed to seek seek shelter fast. there was no way he was gonna be stuck out in a storm like this, nu-uh. 

his pace quickened. at the first sight of lightning, it turned into a jog. noivern couldn’t fly him out of this mess. fuck. damian hurried but it wasn’t exactly easy to seek shelter- on a mountain- with rain so heavy that it limited his vision. at this point, damian would put in a strong request to never be sent out here again─

movement caught his attention. at first, he brushed it off as a wild pokémon, but as he drew closer he realized that wasn’t the case. another man, setting up… supplies? under the cover of thick trees alongside the mountain. normally, damian wasn’t one to seek help from others, but… well, he really detested being so… filthy.

“hey you-!” he called out over the storm, “help me out, will ya? make some room!” he practically demanded. without waiting for permission, damian entered the stranger’s little area, drenched to the bone with an expression that reflected just how frustrated he was.

“you don’t got a problem sharing, do ya?”

;;–{ ✿ } 

   As was in his employment title, Armiin was extremely prepared for any amount of grief the mountain’s would give; whether vicious winds or sudden storms, anything and everything needed was packed away. At the first sight of gathering storm clouds the Ranger had veered off the path, the heavy pack and satchel he carried being removed, placed down, and thoroughly dug through and emptied. The use of the small treeline is transformed into a make-shift shelter, green tarp laid upon dirt and stone and hung from branches, the pattering of rain that had begun to fall sliding off without fight. 

   Even thin blankets were pulled from his backpack, being shoved into the corner of the small shelter so one could curl up and gain comfort, and in the middle, a small fire-pit built out of loose stones. It was simple, rather a mess, but prepared in his haste its utility would suffice until the storm passed. 

   Despite being prepared, that didn’t mean the man was pleased with being caught in the storm, given the way he shivered and shook even beneath the thick coat he adorned, tired eyes staring up at the dampened sky with displeasure. Now, he had a fire-pit for warmth, but he didn’t have any collected wood. The small treeline he’d nestled back in is glanced at, peering about for any fallen branches and sticks, and while it’s spotted, something stops him from traveling out from beneath his man-made shelter. 

   Did--...someone say something?

   They certainly did when said someone is barging right on into his shelter; the Ranger all too rattled with the sudden appearance to do anything beside gawk. Where in the Hell--? Armiin’s tongue is practically bitten between his teeth in his momentary confusion and startle, that glowing gaze of green fitted right, then left, then right back center to the stranger. This is how he died, by some crazed, mountain murderer in the midst of a storm where no one would ever find his body. How ironic.  

        “I--...uh--...what?”