In Zorua's eyes, humans could be divided into two groups:
—Elias, and everyone else.
Elias had been good to her. Gentle, kind. But that didn't mean the rest of humanity would tolerate a so-called calamity beast lurking in their midst.
And to be fair, it wasn't just that humans were overly sensitive.
Zorua knew as well as anyone: many of her kind—especially those who had evolved into Zoroark—became twisted and vicious after years of being hunted and driven from every corner of the wild.
Humans hated them for a reason.
Not simply because Zoroark's abilities were strange or terrifying, but because some had indeed attacked them before. Their fear had roots.
Realizing this, Zorua felt a familiar mix of guilt and helplessness wash over her.
This is what our predecessors left us...
And there's nothing I can do.
She could only leave.
Smack—!
Elias blinked in surprise as Zorua slapped away his hand, the one holding the Poké Ball.
Just seconds ago, she'd been trembling, paw outstretched, as if she was about to accept.
Now, her expression had changed entirely.
"Didn't your Pearl Clan chieftain warn you?"
"Trying to tame a calamity beast? You're delusional!"
Her voice was ice-cold, sharp with fury.
But Elias could hear the tremble buried in her tone.
She didn't really mean what she said.
This little fox didn't reject the idea of becoming his Pokémon—she was just... afraid. Afraid of something else.
But what?
He narrowed his eyes, replaying her words in his mind, and soon pinpointed the source.
So that was it...
Zorua was afraid the rest of the clan wouldn't accept it if he tried to bond with a Pokémon as infamous as her.
She was afraid for him.
He'd considered this possibility before, but only in passing.
Elias didn't think he needed the clan's permission to decide what Pokémon he wanted to keep.
And if the clan had a problem with it? He wouldn't care.
After all, there were only a handful of people he truly cared about in this world.
And whether it was Cogita or Irida, he trusted that—even if they didn't particularly like Zorua—they wouldn't stop him from choosing her.
Just as he was thinking this, he caught a glimpse of "Irida's" form shifting slightly out of the corner of his eye.
It was a subtle movement—shoulders tensing, weight shifting.
She was getting ready to bolt.
She's going to run!
Without thinking, Elias reached out and grabbed her paw again.
"Wait."
His voice was calm, but firm.
Zorua's whole body trembled at the sound. Her heart ached.
Why?
Why won't he just let me go?
Didn't he understand...?
Didn't he understand that the more he tried to hold on, the harder it was for her to leave?
Tears prickled behind her eyes.
But she couldn't afford to waver now.
If she gave in today—if she stayed—then tomorrow, Elias might find himself cast out by his own people.
That couldn't happen. She wouldn't let it.
A hard glint passed through her eyes.
She looked up at Elias and locked eyes with him, body coiled tight like a spring.
"Let go."
Her tone was cold as steel.
Elias simply shook his head.
"Come back with me," he said. "I'll handle the clan."
He meant every word.
Zorua's breath caught again.
But she knew this wasn't the time to get emotional.
All creatures put their own safety first. Humans were no different.
No matter how respected Elias might be, there was no way he could convince an entire clan to accept a so-called disaster Pokémon with just a few kind words.
Which meant...
Shff—
Elias blinked.
Zorua hadn't thrown herself into his arms to sob.
She'd slashed him.
Or at least, it felt that way at first.
Damn, fox claws are sharp...
Then he blinked again—really looked—and realized what had happened.
There was no real wound.
The pain he felt? Dull. Muted.
She'd conjured an illusion.
A fake wound, a fake pain—carefully tuned so as not to hurt him too much.
Even now, she was being gentle.
"Now you know what happens when you mess with a calamity beast," Zorua growled, turning her face away.
She couldn't even bring herself to look at him—not even when she knew it was just a trick.
Elias didn't answer.
Zorua's heart twisted.
Good. He was speechless.
Now he'd finally see her for what she really was.
Finally understand that whatever he'd imagined—they were not meant to be partners.
Plap—
Her mission complete, Zorua seized the chance and leapt from the saddle, landing in the snow with a soft thump.
She dropped her illusion and sprinted away at full speed.
Behind her, the "wound" on Elias's arm slowly faded into nothing.
He watched the little fox vanish into the snow and didn't move to stop her.
He knew now—if he wanted Zorua to come back with him willingly, he'd need to do this the hard way.
"Wyrdeer," he said, patting its side, "follow her."
The Wyrdeer, who had witnessed everything, gave a knowing nod.
It didn't rush. Instead, it began moving slowly, following the tiny pawprints in the snow at a calm, steady pace.
That way, it wouldn't scare Zorua into running even farther.
Elias nodded in approval.
Then he glanced up at the sky—and frowned.
He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw it:
A bank of thunderclouds had rolled in over the Alabaster Wastes, flickering with lightning.
They hadn't fully blanketed the sky yet, but they'd already dimmed the light over the tundra.
"Better bring that little fox back before it gets worse," he muttered.
As Elias and Wyrdeer headed off, the area slowly returned to silence.
But neither of them noticed the figure watching from a distant ridge—
A flash of blue fur.
"Is that him?"
Lucario squinted toward Elias's retreating form.
Then his ears twitched with excitement.
Finally! I found him! I'm getting out of here!
---
Meanwhile...
After running at full tilt, Zorua finally stopped at the base of a large boulder.
Back in her true form now, she panted heavily, tongue lolling out, chest heaving.
Her clear eyes shimmered, tears threatening to spill.
She'd done it.
She'd driven Elias away.
The only human who had ever tried to get close to her—who had treated her like a person, not a threat—was gone.
And after what she'd shown him?
He probably wouldn't dare try to tame a "calamity beast" again.
Of course not. Humans are better off catching Gardevoir.
Not a wild beast like her, born for the wilderness—unfit to be anyone's partner.