Painted Ghouls

Chapter 4

Sadly, it seemed as if Brendan didn't understand her, as he continued on with his staring. He was still biting his lip, as if he wasn't sure what to do or say. After a few moments, he shrugged, gently using his hands to pick her up. Feeling his hands awkwardly grasp her feathers, Mary let out a loud squeak. The shrill noise caused Brendan to jump a tad, his shoulders bunching in alarm.

"Sorry," he mumbled, lifting the torchic off of the ground. Turning heel, he began to walk away from the scene.

After what felt like ages to Mary, the two entered a small, rural town. "This is Littleroot Town," Brendan quietly- and uncomfortably- informed her, keeping his eyes ahead as he awkwardly shuffled his feet. Mary took a quick sweep over the premises with her vision, taking in the surroundings.

What a weird place for humans, she noted mentally, eyeing the structures that towered over them.

She figured that they were the humans' nests, otherwise known as houses. Brendan didn't say anything else; he only sighed heavily as he walked toward a small house near the corner of the town. Once he opened the door, he took a few steps inside, before closing it.

"Mom, I'm home," he casually called out, before heading toward a nearby staircase to their left.

Mary squeaked as Brendan began to climb up the wooden stairs, using one of his arms to grip onto the railing beside them. Once he got past the stairs, he turned to his right, heading toward a set of two brown doors. Using his free arm, he twisted the shiny doorknob of the door farthest to the right and opened it, revealing a blue room. He closed the door behind him.

Setting Mary down, the human plopped himself on his bed, before sighing heavily as he took off his white cap. She looked around his room. It contained a blue wall, as mentioned earlier, and a desk with a shelf sitting above it. However, none of that really interested her. Instead, she paid a bit of her interest on her trainer. He was strangely quiet, and seemed like a rather shy guy. Perhaps he wasn't too harsh, like how she was always told, but maybe a little gentle?

Hopefully.

With a few chirps, Mary jumped onto Brendan's bed. She struggled quite a bit, considering how taller it was than her. However, thanks to the help of the human, she managed to make her way up. It felt way more softer than her nest back at home, and she cooed to herself in glee as she gently laid down on the blue, cotton blanket beneath her, and rested her head.

It's so nice, she thought, her eyes closing.

Eyes fluttering open, the torchic released a yawn, noticing that she was on a different part of the bed. Instead of being near the center, she was positioned by the end, near a brown frame. With wide, beady eyes, she swirled her head around.

Did I fall asleep? It seemed so. Brendan was not in the room, and the door was wide open. Swerving her head toward a nearby window, she noted that it was dusk- the sun was lowering itself from view.

With no hesitation, Mary bolted out of the room, and hopped down the steps of the staircase, her feet a blur as she did so. Halfway down, however, she slipped and crashed onto the wooden floor of the home. Scrambling to her feet, she frantically looked around the surrounding area, before dashing to her left and down a short yet wide corridor.

This place is so confusing!

Screeching to a halt, she saw Brendan sitting by a table in front of her, a strange wooden device in his hand. To her right was a strange room with metallic objects and a bunch of smaller tables hanging from the ceiling, and to her left was a room with a black screen resting atop yet another table. Deciding that the room to her left was safer, she darted toward that direction. With hasty movements, she hid herself in the shelves of the table the black, rectangular object sat on.