A little head, a huge dilemma.
If this had happened two days earlier, Dragapult would have turned invisible and pretended nothing had happened.
Running away was shameful, but it worked.
Now, though... Dragapult did not know what Baimu thought of it, but it felt a little closer to him. Otherwise, it would have dodged when he rested his head on its tail yesterday.
It did not want a conflict with him.
Watching from the sidelines these past few days had also taught it that a trainer had the final say in battle.
He might not always speak, but he had often worked out their move combinations the night before, or even earlier.
If the opponent used one move, which move should they use in response? If the opponent kicked, should they retreat or stand their ground?
He studied every angle using the information he had, then made his decisions accordingly.
No matter how many times Dragapult watched, it found this astonishing. How could Baimu always guess what his opponent was thinking, as though he knew every crucial detail?
Unfortunately, "obedience" was a tall order for Dragapult.
What could it do when its body reacted faster than its mind?
Calm on the outside and in turmoil within, Dragapult felt its thoughts turning to mush. In the end, it took a leaf out of Corsola's book, gave up trying to sort them out, and flew back without a word.
Whatever happened, happened!
Stubborn resignation was all it had left.
But as it neared Baimu, Dragapult grew anxious again. When he raised a hand, it instinctively shut its eyes and ducked its head like a puppy bracing for a smack.
"Thanks for the effort. You did great."
A gentle warmth touched the top of its head. It opened its eyes a crack and