Ron mulled it over, then headed back to the cabin.
After breakfast, he used so stored Fiber to craft Grass Starters. Cradling Shaymin, he walked to the fenced pasture area and scattered the seeds at intervals.
Shaymin followed close behind, soft green light pulsing from its body. Where the glow touched soil, sprouts pushed through instantly.
Once the circuit was complete, Ron turned—and blinked. The pasture had visibly thickened, blades lush and vibrant. He looked down at Shaymin, now curled at his feet.
"I knew it'd work." He ruffled its head. "It's all yours now. Go play."
As Shaymin trotted off, Ron released Gloom—who was long overdue for so fresh air. At Level 40, it had recently mastered Grassy Terrain.
"Gloom—use Grassy Terrain."
A verdant aura blood around it. The young grass surged outward, weaving a living carpet across the pasture.
With farm duties wrapped up, Ron waved to Robin (hamring away at the new Coop) and set off with Froakie perched on his shoulder.
He'd missed Spring and Sumr's Legendary Fish. This autumn's Angler was his last hope.
At Willy's Fish Shop, Ron bought a premium rod. Learning Ron's goal, Willy pressed a special bait into his palm. "This lures Legendary Fish. If you catch it… after the Fair, let keep it here awhile? Just to display."
"Done," Ron said.
Willy's eyes lit up. He rummaged under the counter, then placed a weathered fishing logbook in Ron's hands. "Take this too. And… this." He opened a small chest, revealing a violet Stardrop. "It was my grandfather's. I've no children. If you ever complete this log… it's yours."
Willy launched into fishing lore—knots, tides, patience—his voice warm with shared passion. Ron listened intently.
Ard with rod, bait, logbook, and Willy's hand-drawn map of the Angler's hotspot, Ron left the shore.
But he had a different strategy in mind.
He settled at Willy's marked spot, baited the hook, and cast the line.
"Wait for the bite," Ron murmured to Froakie. "Then it's your turn."
"Froakie!"
Willy's bait supply—about a dozen pieces—was generous.
'He didn't think I'd succeed,' Ron noted wryly.
As Ron fished, Caroline erged from Pierre's General Store. After her usual stop at the Pokémon Center (no call from Abigail), she sighed softly and turned toward the woods—the spot where Abigail used to play her flute.
Rounding a bend, she spotted Ron by the waterfall.
"Please wait there, Ron!" she called, vanishing briefly before returning breathless. "Good… morning! I was just heading to your farm—"
"What's up?" Ron asked, rebaiting his hook and casting again.
"Abigail's birthday is the 13th. Three days from now." Caroline's voice softened. "I packed a gift… could you take it to her?"
Ron was in Pelican Town; Kalos required a boat trip. She knew the request was bold. She sank onto the bank beside him. "This is her first birthday away from us… I worry she'll feel alone."
Ron watched the float. Nodded. "I'll go the day after tomorrow."
Technically, Kalos followed its own calendar—Abigail's birthday might be months away there. But Caroline's love needed no tiline. "Just leave it at the farm."
Relief washed over Caroline. "Thank you." She smiled faintly. "I'm glad she's living her dream… unlike . I let my curiosity fade. Now I only visit that quiet forest sotis… and call it a journey."
Splash!
Ron's float jerked violently.
"Froakie—now!"
Froakie dove. Bubbles surfaced. The reel spun wildly—then stilled.
Ron hauled the line.
Slowly, majestically, the Angler broke the water's surface.
It thrashed twice on the hook. Before Ron could react, Froakie leaped from the river and thwacked the fish firmly—once, twice—'calming' it instantly.
Ron grinned.
"Perfect."
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