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Brisa's anger had pushed out all room for caution. She lunged for the incoming leg and made to bite down on Zane's ankle without mercy, only lightning in her teeth.

"I'll humble you in a flat minute! spat Brisa. She let loose a crackling bolt of electric energy directly at Zane without even considering a strategy.

Author's Note: Thanks for bearing with me while I got the next two updates ready. Now the story proper can begin, and hopefully continue at a faster rate. If you’re an older reader, this is a different opening chapter than you remember. If you were a reader way back in 2012, it’ll be more...

"You're a fucking riot," hissed Brisa. "I came here to fight, so let's settle this sparring altercation right now. I'll beat you senseless, and then you never claim to have won our first-day match again. Now get the fuck in place."

Brisa's brain went into meltdown. "Hold up, no, firstly, that's not a good—you think Starr and I are what?—I can't, this is just, how dare you, gods only know what even happens in that tiny skull of yours, how the fuck did you think such a thing anyway??—you are fucking in for it, feller."...

Brisa didn't bother keeping her claws retracted or her growl suppressed. "I'm gonna need ya to explain three things to me. One: if you didn't teleport, how come you came outta nowhere just now? Two: since I battled you into immobility and walked away, how is it you reckon you 'won'? And three...

Brisa shook herself free of startled sparks. "Since when can you teleport? Wait—'beat me?' The way I remember it, I gave you an absolute thrashing."

Returning from the encounter with Darkwhite at the Guild, Brisa prowled into the dojo spoiling for a fight. "Anyone around who fancies a scrap?" she called. "I could do with a battle!"

Brisa scoffed at Maple's words. "You're saying that like y'ain't surrounded by folks who hail from other worlds. This 'Darkwhite' gal could be the mew of a different world. We know almost nothin' for sure." She grounded her electricity in the floor, and her coat stopped shimmering with energy...

Brisa shook off her sparks and mouthed a truly foul word. "We have to humour her. Someone native to Cibus, start making guesses."

Brisa prowled around the edge of the room, seeking to flank the "Darkwhite" and spot any openings, weaknesses, or feints.

The alarm on many of the assembled faces was enough to put Brisa into a battle stance, low to the ground and fur sparking. "Get those jars safe, now," she hissed at Truffle. "Don't let this troublemaker break 'em!"

Brisa, who'd accompanied Owen in, offered up an explanation of what had happened in the Bluff earlier. It felt like her first time walking a rope bridge over the ravine to speak in front of such a crowd, but she'd done that and she'd do this. "Celeste, Ashwood and I were down at the Bluff...

"Yes." A fight would be good, actually. Maybe not until she'd had a moment to think, but soon. "I might just take you up on that later," she said, some vigour returning to her voice. "I've heard it said that you're quite the scrapper!" They set off together back to town, chatting with...

Brisa followed Owen out. At first, she wasn't sure if she should say anything, and she wondered with a sick lurch if he'd thought her outpouring to be pathetic, entitled, overblown. She remembered his comforting paw on her shoulder. "It means a lot to me that you helped out with this," she...

"Thank you, Surf. I guess it oughta go to Pine? Just a feeling I have. I can always try Bone later if it doesn't work out." She stood to bow to both sisters before leaving. "It's been a pleasure. I'm glad to have been of help today, and I will remember your kindness."

I don't pay enough attention to competitive stuff to hear about anything except "Landorus is OP" and "stealth rock is meta-defining". Such things don't inform the pokémon I like—I go off how good I think the design is and my personal degree of attachment.

Brisa tried to remember letter-writing etiquette and compose a thoughtful message in her head without keeping anyone waiting. It occurred to her that most letter-writing practices were either bunk or inapplicable, and from a different culture than Cibus', besides. No matter. It was a challenge...

Yes! Wonderful! I am thoroughly delighted! Make a contract with me and become a magical author! First off, since I beta-read this only recently I can see all the improvements you've made, either based on my commentary or otherwise, and they are all absolutely effective in improving the prose...