Gabrielle didn't want to be pitied, but couldn't deny that the earlier shock and panic had given way to tiredness. "Yeah... It certainly has been quite a day," she mumbled, standing up and skulking back to the guest room. The first thing she did was wash the food stains from her wrist fur, only to have it weigh down her arms again. Sighing, she started up the hairdryer. She may have only been a Pokemon for a few hours, but that was no excuse for her of all people to make an idiot of herself.

She settled into the massive four-poster bed, pushing the covers off herself five minutes later. It was so damn hot with all this fur. How did regular fluffy Pokemon manage? At least this was better than the wilderness she'd nearly had to spend the night in. She curled up, trying to block the memory. Despite what she'd been through, sleep came easily, letting her put the day behind her.

...

As morning light shone through a gap in the curtains, Gabrielle opened her eyes... then closed them. She didn't want to see a room that wasn't hers, or a body that wasn't hers. Maybe she had been dreaming after all, and now awake, could go back to her usual life... her fans, her friends, her family...

Yesterday's events swept away the fogginess of sleep, sharpening sensations. She could still feel that thick coat of fur. The birdsong outside sounded louder than it would to human ears. Sighing, she allowed herself to look. Sure enough, she was in the same guest room. Could she even call herself a guest? She'd become a prisoner here, or as good as, and she'd stay that way until somebody found a way to lift the curse.

All she wanted to do was curl up and block everything out, but a glance at the clock revealed it would only be half an hour until breakfast. She rolled over, right onto one of her ears. With a yelp, she sat up, scowling as she stormed to the bathroom and showered. Hopefully that wouldn't set the tone for today.

It was after she'd spent the longest time trying to get her fur dry that she acknowledged today really wasn't starting well. Twenty five past eight, the clock read. She'd be in trouble if she didn't hurry. The bunny turned the hairdryer up to its highest setting, only for the fuzz on her arms and ears to frizz like she'd been out in a storm. Cringing, she brushed it, which just made it worse. How did people even manage without stylists? She opened her mouth to yell for Simone, then thought better of it, recalling what Jean had said about the Audino's keen hearing.

Time ticked on without improvement. No choice, then, but to go downstairs looking not just like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, but forwards again, then lengthways all around a fifty acre garden. She pulled the dress on, hurrying downstairs and hoping the others wouldn't mind her lateness. Surely they wouldn't be too annoyed about ten paltry minutes. Surely they wouldn't be as critical as her father had been yesterday.

---

Given Gabrielle's treatment of Simone, Mira hadn't wanted to bother her. Even so, the Audino had insisted on alleviating her headache to the extent that she could. Able to get into bed without her head ribbon throbbing as much, the Gothitelle dozed off quickly, but something else disturbed her sleep.

While brief, the images seemed all too real. Gabrielle, whimpering and running, blood matting her fur as a four-legged shape chased her through the darkness. Mira woke with a start, staring around the safe, quiet room. She exhaled in relief, but underlying worry lingered. Had Gabrielle been hurt worse than she'd let on? No, those Mightyenas hadn't drawn blood, and Simone would have dealt with any wounds. Which meant the vision must have shown what would have happened if Gabrielle had stayed in the wilderness any longer. A disturbing thought, but at least those events hadn't come to pass. Maybe it hadn't even been a psychic dream. Maybe it had just been a plain old nightmare brought on by a stressful incident.

Mira tried to drift off again, but sleep came fitfully for the rest of the night. She gave up at seven AM, climbing out of bed with a groan, heading into the lobby to see who else was up and what duties needed attending to.

Setting up the dining hall for breakfast kept her occupied, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease, especially when Gabrielle failed to turn up. Mira frowned, glancing towards the door every now and then. It was nothing, she told herself. If something were wrong, she'd have felt it when she'd walked past Gabrielle's room. Even so, the more time passed, the more anxious she grew.

"I know she's probably just slept in or something," the Gothitelle said, "but should one of us go check on her?"

Just then, she felt a presence approach. Footsteps pounded, and a particularly irritable-looking mass of puffy fur burst in. Mira let herself relax. So that was all it had been, trouble getting ready. Nothing disastrous, although Gabrielle would probably disagree.

Alyssa was the first to greet her, sunny-toned flowers bobbing as she leaned forward. "Morniiing! Did you sleep well? Don't worry, everything's still warm, ooh you'll love today's breakfast!" The gardener's peppiness only deepened Gabrielle's scowl.

Mira gestured towards an empty chair. "Ah, good morning, do take a seat. Is everything ok?"

With a huff, Gabrielle sat down. "Oh just fine, except for, you know, the whole getting plucked out of the limelight and trapped in the middle of nowhere thing. And of course this." She pointed at her static-filled ear fluff. "Which I expect someone to help me with right after breakfast."

Even if there was no crisis of yesterday's scale to deal with, Mira thought, it was still going to be a tough day for everyone.

Porscine is up early and busy making much of the more complex and involved breakfast dishes. He makes fried tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms, flapjacks, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and more. All the frying is done in clean pans with olive oil from the olives grown on the property. While he makes those, the various berry jams arranged in the correct order of colours so each one blends into the next. There is double thick yoghurt, rolled oats, milk, honey and more. The sheer number of choices, smells and freshness will amaze most people including those like Gabrielle and her family.



Jean wakes up and takes a slow morning to get ready. Thou he does not need to clean his face of hair or have a full suit like his old routine, he has a new morning routine that includes a nice cream liquor made with the best moo moo milk and various berries femented from the property. He puts on a white and red coat and takes his cream liquor on the rocks to the dining room. He arrives later than Gabrielle and does not seem as stressed about looking or appearing social correct thou he does look good despite that fact. "Morning all. Morning M'lady. Thanks Mira and Aylssa for helping making and setting up. Mira, please go and thank the chef for me please." Jean goes to the food and dishes up a flapjack and put on bacon with some honey. "Dish up while it is all hot and fresh. This sort of treatment doesn't and won't last long and often. Enjoy the warm welcome as long as you are still on my good side."

As it turned out, Gabrielle wasn't the only one to be late. The person she'd expected to be annoyed was nowhere to be seen, only turning up a few minutes after her arrival. Despite his surprisingly laidback attitude, Gabrielle couldn't help but cringe. Her of all people, looking less than presentable in front of a lord? Not that it should matter, what with his frog form and all, but still!

At the sight of the glass in his hand, the Lopunny raised a fluffy eyebrow. Who the hell even drank at breakfast anyway, besides some of the washups she'd known, the ones more famous for stumbling out of nightclubs than anything else? Maybe the liquor's effect was why he had to go and lecture her.

Mira, of course, didn't even need a drink to give her own input. "Believe me, I know it's tough," was her equally harsh-edged reply, "but that's no excuse to take it out on us." With that, she headed off to thank the Emboar.

Gabrielle scowled. So a servant claimed to know what it was like to have a charmed life ripped away. "I'm just saying!" she replied, glaring at Jean as she dished up her food, trying not to get scrambled egg all over her arm fur. "Since you clearly have no issues with speaking your mind, why is it such a problem if I speak mine?"

Listening to Jean's droning lecture, Gabrielle bit back a sigh of exasperation. "Well who says I can't enjoy what I get?" she retorted. "And you know, I had to prove myself to my father too. I represent him after all." Or rather, she used to represent him, she thought bitterly. Not that she was letting on how casually he'd abandoned her. "He won't be happy if he finds out people are treating me with anything less than the respect I deserve. No matter who they are."

She scooped up and ate a forkful of mushrooms, egg and toast, narrowly avoiding trailing her fur in the fried tomatoes as she did so. Good cooking here, that was at least one positive thing she could say about the manor and its residents. "And since I'm stuck here for Arceus knows how long," she continued, "once I'm presentable, will someone show me around this place?"

---

"Look, nobody's disrespecting you," Alyssa explained, trying to diffuse the tension. "Seems you just need some time to settle in while we all figure out how to get our old lives back." A bright smile lit up her face. "I'm sure we'll find a way! In the meantime, yep, taking a look around sounds like an idea! Trust me, you'll like the place once you've seen it."

Hoping for a reasonably peaceful breakfast atmosphere, she took a bite of toast with homemade strawberry jam. Since the transformation, she hadn't needed to eat much, getting most of her energy from sunlight instead. Even so, she still enjoyed the taste of food, as well as the company that dining offered. In time, surely Gabrielle would appreciate these gatherings too.

"Alyssa is correct. My servants and I are giving you two forms of respect. The benefit of the doubt kind and the hosting guest kind. The only kind that you are not getting is the one that everyone has to earn. All you have done is demand and complain. Jean says this with a straight stern face. His tone has an edge of posion like the typing he is.

Jean finishes his breakfast and cleans his face with a purple napkin."I can show you around as well unless you want my butler instead. You also have an option of female servants to help you clean you up but I will give them the ability to leave to fend for yourself. So behave yourself and give it time."

Gabrielle gave a deep sigh. "Well since the only thing to do is get used to it," she muttered, "and this is your place, fine, I'll go along with you." Once she'd finished her breakfast, she stood up. "After someone helps me fix up this mess, of course," she added, dragging her fingers through her ear fluff in an attempt to tame it. The fur felt as tangled and static-filled as the wool of a Mareep who'd been out all night in a thunderstorm.

Mira rose with a scowl. "I'll help," she offered, "but one complaint and you'll be getting ready on your own like most people do."

Like most people? Gabrielle refrained from retorting as she led the maid upstairs. How was she supposed to not find that insulting? Sitting in silence in front of the mirror, she let her expression do the talking while Mira set to work with the dryer and a curling hair brush.

"Hm... That's something of an improvement, at least," the Lopunny said, studying the puffy mass from different angles. "Geez, how do people without stylists even cope?"

Accompanying her downstairs, Mira remained as stony-faced as ever. "You'll find out if you keep up with the attitude."

Gabrielle tried to ignore that little remark. Striding back over to where Jean waited, she folded her arms. "Ok, I'm ready when you are," she announced. "Where to first?"

Jean looks up at his guest from his brooding and gives a small bow. "I think some sun and fresh air is in order. I would like to show you around the grounds and gardens first. It gives me a good cause to inspect how the hedges and flowers are doing. It is spring after all so most should be blossoming now if not soon." Jean leads Gabrielle through the house to the ornate wooden door leading to behind the house.

Gabrielle can see a fountain, in the distance, made with a white marble primarina on top shooting out a jet and Brionne on the four cardinal positions holding the top platform and also shooting water. The fountain is surrounded by hedges, gravel pathways and stone benches. On the opposite side, there is a curated and well-keeped flower bushes and patches among some small orchards of fruit trees like olives, lemons, apples, oranges and more.

"Want to sit in silence and listen to the sounds of the garden or want to smell the flowers and pick out one that suits you? I am a big believer in symbols and flowers is a big one that has been instilled in me by my father. He speaks about the flower of our family being the protea cos of the protea's resourcefulness and daring attitude as it needs fire and adversity to survive. What is your true symbolic flower?"