"Ah, the air actually tastes like oxygen again! Nurse Joy, you're a miracle worker. Thanks for keeping from becoming a permanent Snowpoint ice sculpture!"
Standing on the steps of the Pokémon Center, Julian let out a dramatic, lung-filling stretch. The sky was that piercing, crystal blue you only get after a blizzard, and the sun reflecting off the snow was enough to make anyone squint.
"It was my pleasure, Julian. But rember—adventures are great, but being a patient is a full-ti job you don't want to apply for again," Nurse Joy said with a knowing, maternal wink.
"Got it! ssage received loud and clear!" Julian laughed, waving a final goodbye.
Beside him, Growlithe let out a sharp, resonant bark. "Woof! (Yeah, thanks for fixing the dummy! We were about to trade him in for a new model!)" He wagged his tail so hard his entire back half was wiggling.
The rest of the team was tucked away in their balls for the trek back to the inn—all except for Growlithe, who had self-appointed himself as Julian's personal space heater. He was radiating a steady, comforting warmth that kept the biting Snowpoint wind at bay.
As they crunched through the fresh powder toward their lodgings, Julian felt a surge of genuine energy. "Honestly, I feel amazing. I think the Aura training actually gave my immune system a kickstart. I'm basically Wolverine now."
Growlithe gave him a flat, unimpressed look. "Woof. (Don't get cocky. You only feel good because Joy pumped you full of industrial-strength vitamins. If you start running, I'm tripping you.)"
"Hey, have a little faith! I'm a changed man!" Julian patted his chest, grinning.
"Woof woof. (We've heard that before. Last ti you said that, you tried to cook a three-course al while your brain was literally simring. You have a massive debt of 'rest' to pay back.)" Growlithe's eyes never left the path, keeping Julian firmly within his 'thermal zone.'
"Okay, okay, I was a little over-eager. I just didn't want you guys to think I was weak," Julian admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
"Woof! (Weak? Julian, nobody cares if you're 'cool.' We just want you to be 'conscious.' It's much easier to eat your food when you aren't slumped over the table like a sack of Sitrus berries.)"
Julian winced. "Yeah... point taken. I'll dial it back."
"Woof. (Hmph. Good.)"
As they passed a row of colorful storefronts, Julian's eyes lit up. "Wait! The photo studio! I totally forgot to pick up the prints from the Gym match. Co on, Growlithe, let's snag them before they close!"
Julian started to break into a jog, but he didn't even get three steps before Growlithe let out a low, warning growl.
"Woof! (What did I just say?! You are under strict energy-conservation orders! Get back here!)"
"It's just right there!" Julian protested, but he imdiately slowed to a brisk walk. He looked down at Growlithe's thick, winter-ready fur—the kind of soft, plush coat that looked like it was made for cuddling. "Actually, since I'm still a 'delicate' recovering patient, maybe I should carry you? For... uh... stability?"
He reached down, his fingers already itching to sink into that soft orange fur.
Swish!
Growlithe hopped back with the grace of a ninja, his tail fending off Julian's hand like a furry shield. "Woof! (Nice try, predator. But you're officially on the 'No-Touch' list.)"
"Wait, what?! Why?!" Julian cried, his hands frozen in mid-air.
"Woof woof! (This was a unanimous vote from the Council of Five! No cuddles, no ear-scratches, and definitely no belly-rubs until you've proven you can survive forty-eight hours without a dical ergency!)" Growlithe barked, looking incredibly smug. "Woof! (Even Sylveon signed off on it! It's for your own good—if we let you cuddle, you'll just fall asleep and skip your dicine!)"
"That's cruel and unusual punishnt! I have a shattered heart! I have emotional trauma from being poked by needles!" Julian wailed, his voice echoing off the snowy buildings.
"Woof! (Save the drama for the Sinnoh League! Move it, patient!)"
Ten minutes later, Julian trudged into the hotel room, clutching a bag of photos and looking utterly defeated. The shop owner had spent the entire transaction hiding a grin behind his hand—probably because he'd overheard Julian begging a Growlithe for 'just one tiny pat' through the window.
[Note to self: Being an Aura Guardian does not give you authority over a stubborn fire-dog. I am currently living in a cuddle-free wasteland. Send help.]
"Woof. (Stop moping and look at the ss you made.)"
Julian looked around the room, and the guilt finally hit him. The table was still set with the half-eaten 'disaster' dinner. There were dried sauce stains, chairs knocked askew, and two forgotten slices of salt-cake on the rug. It looked like the scene of a very frantic struggle.
"Oh... wow. You guys really were scared, weren't you?" Julian's voice softened as he looked at the chaos.
Growlithe's tail stopped wagging for a second. He walked over and gently nudged Julian's leg. "Woof... (You looked like you were dying, Julian. Don't do that to us again. Now, call the others. We're going to fix this room while you sit on that bed and do absolutely nothing.)"
"Alright. You're the boss," Julian sighed. He pulled the four Poké Balls from his belt and tossed them into the air.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Lealeon! (Ho! Finally!)" Floette zipped out, imdiately doing a loop around the ceiling light.
"Sly-veon~ (Oh, look at this place. We really did a number on the furniture, didn't we?)" Sylveon humd, looking at the tipped-over cushions with a hint of embarrassnt.
"Jia-gei! (Cleanup crew, assemble!)" Togetic chirped, using his wings to fan so of the stale air toward the open window.
"Mishi-mishi! (Carbink is ready for duty!)"
The team imdiately sprang into action. Togetic and Carbink started clearing the table, while Sylveon began organizing the scattered cushions.
"Okay, okay, let help at least a little—" Julian started, reaching for a towel.
"Woof! (Stay!)" Growlithe barked, blocking his path.
"But you're covered in snow!" Julian pointed at Growlithe's damp coat. "If you start walking around, you'll just make the carpet soggy. Let at least dry you off. It's... it's for the good of the room!"
He flourished the towel with a sly, predatory glint in his eye.
Growlithe saw the 'Cuddle Trap' coming from a mile away. "Woof. (Nice hustle. But I have a better way.)"
Suddenly, a surge of orange heat rippled through Growlithe's fur. For a split second, he looked like a miniature sun. Whoosh! A cloud of steam erupted from his body as the lted snow was instantly vaporized. He gave himself a vigorous shake, his fur poofing out into a perfect, dry cloud of orange fluff.
"Woof! (Dry as a bone. No towel needed.)" He then grabbed a damp rag with his teeth and started scrubbing a sauce stain off the floor with practiced, coordinated precision.
Julian slumped against the doorfra, watching his team work with perfect efficiency—all of them intentionally staying just out of arm's reach.
"I shouldn't have taught them coordination..." Julian muttered, tracing a lonely circle in the frost on the windowpane. "I've created a group of independent geniuses who don't need my hugs anymore. This is the worst recovery ever."
Growlithe just wagged his tail at him, his 'Prohibition Order' firmly in place. Julian might have been the Trainer, but tonight, the Pokémon were in charge.
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