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Zip wiggled all over in glee. The stars were bright, the moon was full and there was no one around to stop her! Her mother had gotten distracted by a few of her younger siblings and Zip was never one to shy away from an opportunity for adventure!
The clearing near her tribe’s territory was perfect for late night adventuring or racing or just flat out running.
Zip bounded first in one direction chasing a very nice floral scent, before the flash of a HootHoot’s eyes had her dashing for cover in a different direction squealing happily as she went. It wasn’t so much that one HootHoot was a danger to Zip, it was more for the fun of moving. The feel of the dewey grass and earth under her paws, the way she could dig her claws into the dirt to make sharp turns and how her fur flattened down with the wind of her own making.
Running was the absolute best thing in the world.
And Zip was the fastest of her siblings! A fact she was very proud of. She darted from one bush to another, circling a small boulder for the fun of it, her left paw caught on something in the grass. Zip stumbled, rolling ear over tail from her momentum. She landed in a heap with a small, stifled squeak. She shot to her feet and ran her paws down her stomach, brushing dirt from her fur. With a quick shake of her head, she scurried back over to where she had tripped. A round purple stone glinted in the light of the moon.
Zip’s ears perked up, her eyes widening. She snatched the stone out of the nest of weeds and grass and held it up to inspect. The stone glimmered a deep midnight purple.
“What do you have there?” Zip clutched the glimmering stone in her paw and jumped back, fluffing her fur up to make herself look bigger then she was. (Zip was the smallest of her siblings, a fact that she was slightly less proud of.) A murkrow sat on a branch, midway up a tree a short distance from where Zip had found the rock.
“A rock.” Zip answered, truthfully. It was afterall a rock. Just a very different one from ones she had seen before.
“A rock hmmm?” The Murkrow’s tone was an amused one. Not the same kind of amused as Zip’s mother took but much more like some of Zip's older cousins used when watching her. “That’s much more shiny then any rock I’ve seen. A very good find for a young zigzagoon on their own.” Zip preened at the praise.
“I am very good at finding things!” Zip agreed. Just the other day she’d found a stash of berries her younger sibling had tried to hide and the week before that she’d found her mother’s talisman necklace that she’d lost.
“But are you good at finding shiny things?” The murkrow hopped once down the branch, so she was closer to Zip. Zip wrinkled her snout. She was good at finding all kinds of things!
“What is so special about shiny stuff?” She demanded, her small paws clutching her rock against her tummy.
“Well, if something’s shiny then it’s usually veeeeeeeery valuable.” The murkrow explained. Zip thought about that for all of a couple seconds.
“What is valuable ?” She sounded the unfamiliar word out carefully.
“It means like…” The murkrow trailed off as she considered what answer to give. “Like treasure.” She decided on. “You know what treasure is, right?” Zip sat up on her hind legs and puffed out her chest.
“Yes!” She said proudly. “Mother says that I am her little treasure!” The murkrow blinked once and then cawed with a short burst of laughter. Zip giggled herself. It was always nice to make other people happy.
“That is. You are very adorable.” The murkrow dropped off her branch and glided down to land in the grass a few feet away from Zip. She resettled her wings with elegance. Now that she was so close, Zip could see that she wasn’t as old as she thought the murkrow was. Not as old as Zip’s mother but not nearly as young as Zip herself. She was probably about the same age as Zip’s older cousins.
Zip huddled protectively over her rock.
“You are not taking my rock.” She told the Murkrow. The murkrow laughed again.
“No no, I would never take treasure from another.” Zip felt better about that and sat back up. Though she kept her paws locked tight around the rock. “How about…a trade?” Zip’s ears perked up and her nose twitched.
A trade! Zip loved trades. When she got tired of her things she traded them to her cousins or her siblings for new things or favors all the time!
“I love trades!” Zip informed the murkrow. “What are you trading?”
“Hoooow about…this bag?” The murkrow shrugged her wings and feathers so that Zip could see the messenger bag the other pokemon was wearing.
“Hmmmm…” Zip eyed the bag and then her stone and then the bag. The bag didn’t appear to be shiny. And her rock was. “Bag is not shiny.” Zip pointed out while also pointing an offended claw at the bag. The murkrow snickered, not unkindly.
“You learn veeeeeery quickly.” The murkrow said. “My bag is not shiny, you are correct! But! It will hold anything and everything you put in it.” Zip considered this, tilting her head to one side and then the other.
“But it is not shiny.” Zip protested. “And you said that shiny things are val-u-able.” She sounded the word slowly. The murkrow nodded solemnly, and then brought the bag up so that the light of the moon caught on the buckles of the bag.
“ Ooooooooh .” Zip’s eyes were wide and round, her ears dropping flat, as the buckles flashed silver and bright. “Trade please! Please trade!” Zip held out her rock in one paw and made grabbing motions with her other empty paw, her eyes fixed on the bag’s buckles.
With a cawing cackle, the murkrow ducked her head out from under the strap of the bag. Zip passed her the stone and snatched the bag from the Murkow’s offering wing. Zip slipped the bag on and wiggled her body, sighing as it settled against her side. Zip’s ears dipped in slight disappointment. The bag was just a touch too long. It would certainly tangle in her legs as she ran, or slip off her back if she tried that way.
“Here,” The murkrow extended a claw. “Allow me to adjust the strap.” Zip helpfully and with great effort, held still. The Murkrow fiddled with the strap and soon the bag sat snugly and perfectly just behind her front arms. Zip ran a small, fast circle around the Murkrow, the bag barely affected her range of motion. She skidded to a stop, and patted the bag happily.
“Thank you!” She chirped to the Murkrow. The Murkrow nodded her head absently.
“And now we both have a story.” Zip tilted her head at what the Murkrow said.
“A story?” She asked, a paw absently tugging at one of the front pockets of the bag. The Murkrow’s beak clattered as she examined the purple glimmering stone. Twisting her head first one way and then the other.
“Mmmm, yes.” She hummed. “Treasures don’t have to be expensive, you know. Sometimes a treasure is a treasure because it has a story .” The Murkrow tucked the stone into a small belt pouch. “What could be better then sharing treasure stories with friends and family, hmmm?”
“Oh! I get it!” Zip’s ears shot up with the realization. Her mother always made her sit down and tell her everything Zip had done during her day before bedtime. It had always been a time that Zip had enjoyed, she liked the way her mother listened to her carefully, and laughed in all the right places and asked all the right questions.
But now, Zip would have something to show her as Zip told her the story. An amazing and very exciting idea. “Yes. That is a very good thing to do!”
“Speaking of,” The Murkrow fixed Zip with a knowing eye, tilting her head to better view her. “Shouldn’t you be heading home now? It’s getting to be a liiiiiiitle on the late side for young zigzagoon.” Zip puffed her cheeks out and scuffed a paw through the grass. “Hmmmm?” The Murkrow prodded further.
“Fine.” Zip let out an explosive breath, deflated her pout. A thought occurred to her and she stuck her paw out at the Murkrow. “I’m Zip!” The Murkrow laughed gently and held out a wing for Zip to shake, which she did, careful of her grip on the Murkrow’s feathers.
“I am Antha.” Antha the Murkrow introduced herself.
“It is nice to meet you, Antha!” Zip chirruped, her mother had always insisted on manners.
“And I you. May we meet again someday.” Antha hopped back. Zip bobbed her head in a quick, short bow, Antha fluttered to the lower branches of the tree, working her way up until she could launch herself into the sky properly. Zip waved at her disappearing figure, not entirely certain that Antha could see her, before she turned and darted through the underbrush back to her home.