There was the twitch of a long muzzle, the tiny nostrils flaring to sense the aromas of the new area it inhabited. The circular hear the muzzle rested upon shifted, the individual owning it attempting to jar awake. Its rotund body beneath it shivered and rippled, the unfamiliar muscles attempting to function in light of this new waking. The large pair of black semicircles on the head indicated eyelids that could move no further than a slit to give the vision beneath some sight. Stubby limbs twisted and shuffled around, trying and failing to hoist the weight of the foreign body, or just exhibit any force whatsoever. The creature as a whole seemed weak and squishy, a perfect prey if it were not for the heated vents dotting its back in formation; yet even these failed to spark, any effort whatsoever a barely huffing one. 

His body ached all around, the struggles from his weak flailing suggesting as much and perhaps some more. He wanted to get up, run and hide, or at least be able to just curl up in a tiny where he could free himself from feeling the judgements of others. Now that he considered it, that last part wasn't even unusual considering his current state. He knew something was wrong with him, the burning feeling within feeling strange but harmless combined with the puny form he was in. The miniature curves that concealed his eyes could barely part, and his face felt very extended upon him. From the strangely large portion of the world he could glimpse, he had the obvious feeling he wasn't where he was supposed to be, and the body he currently owned was not his.

And that was it. No memories of home, his life, or himself, for that matter, remained to spark his mind. Not that it would've mattered, he somehow felt. He was a tiny, helpless creature to easily poke at. Not like the other things he could observe; the towering, deep brown trunks of trees, the vibrant carpet of grass that surrounded him, the mysterious wind that whistled and drifted about him... Well, maybe it wasn't so bad here. At least the world he had dropped into was lush and serene, he thought, so it wasn't some hell. That was good, maybe. The tiny limbs struggled again, with some vague form of purpose, and he managed to scramble the body into a position on the back. The grass beneath either molded into a cushion beneath him, or poked into the foreign holes on the rear pelt in a way that barely tickled him. Some peace and quiet, alone, would be a nice remedy for him. He would like that...

The sudden whooping and hollering destroyed all of that, though. By some instinct that wasn't his, though still felt perfectly suited for him and his body right now, the diminutive creature whipped all of the protrusions in his body into the center of his form. Curled into an indigo-and-cream ball of thickish fur, the individual was content to stay as spherical as he could until it all just went away and ignored him. He had yet to piece together that he was a Cyndaquil yet, or that there were others in the same situation as him. He couldn't have cared less right now. He was a total coward, a piece of absolutely no self-worth, and he knew and embraced it even here and now. The body of the Pokemon he was currently in really suited him well.