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The little Fennekin was frustrated that he had gone three days and counting without being able to play his Nintendo Switch. After he had accidentally dropped it down the stairs and cracked the screen, his mother had to send it off to a distant authorized repair shop to replace the screen. It was raining ferociously, which precluded him from going outside. He was too young for smart devices, and he didn’t feel like reading, so that left the TV.
He was idly flipping through channels one by one, seeing if any of the dozens of shows on offer looked at all interesting. What about a game show? Quiz shows struck him as dull. A Unovan sitcom? Half of the dialogue went over the little Fennekin’s head. A crime drama? Never mind, the V-chip blocked that one. How about some kids’ anime? Nah, he didn’t like silly stories about preteen schoolgirls. He kept channel-surfing, as he felt ever more restless.
Now the little Fennekin was going through the broadcast channels in his desperation for something to watch. A soap opera and an infomercial later, he found himself watching his local Pokémon Broadcasting System station. A gigantic full moon, placed in front of a sleepy little village in Paldea, filled the screen, and the disembodied voice of a refined Galarian narrator filled his ears. This was a nature documentary on . . . well, it wasn’t yet clear. The shadowy figure of a tall anthropomorphic vulpine Pokémon kept appearing in front of the moon, then disappearing in front of the houses that were shut up tightly for the night. Fennekin kept watching, intrigued.
“The adolescent male, now far from the territory of his birth, needs to ascertain the presence of other, potentially hostile Pokémon.” The Pokémon, visible only in silhouette, clambered up onto the roof of a house, somewhat clumsily, using a rain barrel for a boost. “He can check for hostile Pokémon easily by sending out a cry that can be heard as far away as five miles.”
The Pokémon firmly planted his feet on the roof, and stood up as tall as he could, as his voluminous mane dangled off to the side; a thick bangle held the mane in place. Then he opened his mouth as wide as possible to utter a strong cry that sent a tingle of excitement down the spine of the little Fennekin. Within seconds, other isolated noises that were both different and the same echoed throughout the valley. “Fortunately for the adolescent male, there are other Zoroark in this valley, all eagerly welcoming him.” The first Zoroark returned the call, and soon, the whole valley was filled with a veritable symphony of Zoroark cries.
The thrill of hearing all those screaming Zoroark was too much for the little Fennekin; it was as if they were uttering the timeless words of Mowgli in The Jungle Book: “We be of one blood, thou and I!” He leaped off the couch, stood on his hind paws, and held his front paws just so for balance. He threw his head back, and let out not a magnificent roar, but a squeaky yelp! He tried again, thinking he had to warm up, and yelped again!
“What in the world?” His mother, a Braixen, came in to the living room, wondering what the racket was. “Are you all right, sweetheart?” She noticed the PBS documentary on the television, then chuckled. “So, you want to be a Zoroark when you grow up, huh?” A sly smile spread across her face.
“Yeah! Staying up late every night to howl at the moon would be so much fun!” He did another yelp, then fell flat on his back. The Braixen laughed delightedly.
“Oh, I haven’t heard anything so adorable in so long! Well, we can’t do that in an apartment, and there are no wild Zoroark in Kalos. But Paldea is not so far away! We can go there on our next holiday, and then you can stay up late and howl right along with the Zoroark!”
“All right!” The little Fennekin got to his feet. “But I think I need some practice.”
“You can practice all you want outdoors.” She looked out the window; it was still raining as hard as ever. “Not today, of course.” Fennekin groaned.
“Well, I guess I will keep watching the Zoroark on TV, then.” He jumped back up on the couch.
“That sounds good. I think I’ll join you.” She watched with him until the documentary ended, then got up as the credits began rolling. Finally, the narrator invited viewers to learn more about the Pokémon featured on today’s episode by visiting the show’s website. But that would come another day.
Meanwhile, the little Fennekin resumed channel surfing, because a Galarian comedy with highfalutin dialogue came on after that. It was going to be a long afternoon; nothing else on TV was nearly as good as that exciting documentary.