Zeraora’s new mate was heavily gravid and swollen with kits, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He leaned in close to the human, trailing one of his digits down her bare flesh, delivering small sparks to her and watching with amusement as she hissed in response. Scents played about her, gloomful and uncertain. Humans were so easy to read with their scents and the ways they carried themselves.

Zeraora didn’t mind, though. After all, she had tried to take him away.

Like many Mythical pokemon, Zeraora had lived separate from the humans who thought they tamed the planet, hunting and fighting and testing his skills out in the wild. And he had told himself that he was happy like this, though he still remembered the long-gone days when human cities weren’t eating the world and he had the whole landscape to play in.

The fires of industry had caged him, and what’s more, sometimes cocky trainers tried to catch themselves a myth, forcing him deeper and deeper into the wilderness. And so his resentment had seethed until the day when she came along.

His new mate had been a tall, confident trainer with a team of powerful pokemon. She had pursued him further than any human had before, finally cornering him in a den and unleashing her team. She had smirked at him, telling him how fun it would be to show off a pet legend to the world.

It had been a long and fiercely fought battle, but Zeraora had triumphed. Scattering her teammates and shattering their poke balls, he had advanced on the cocky trainer. Her face and her fearful scent betrayed that she thought he would claim her life.

In fact, he had claimed something else that day.