[It has been...a long week. A very, very long week. Guzma is tired. He has...well. To be perfectly honest, he has been in a state of near autopilot out of sheer dissociation for some time now. Wake up, do his errands, hunt, eat, clean, train, sleep, repeat. The constant of this schedule is somewhat relaxing a way, but perhaps not the best mentally. His pokemon help with that, certainly, but those glittering people still wander around sometimes, and he has yet to see her again, but the thought still lingers. The fear still rises in his gut, of waking up one morning smothered in the tentacles of that terrible Ultra Beast, and losing control of his mind and his body all over again.

It's a fear that's kept him up at night more than once. One he fills with those menial tasks and chores, and thanks his lucky stars for the distraction they offer. It's during the daily routine - hunting and foraging this time around - that Guzma hears the crying of someone. Another newbie, perhaps, they're still showing up here? Ugh... At least they seem young enough not to be that witch. But in this state, his mind is still only working at a modicum of what it usually is, and his focus is...blurred. Fuzzy. Recognition has not hit yet.]

Yeah, and pretty soon what every hungry beastie's gonna be on you like fresh carrion if y'all keeping hollering like that.