"Oh, right—it's your birthday today, isn't it?" Robin added with a warm smile. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you," Elliot murmured, then hurried out of the Community Center.
Watching him go, Ron recalled the reclusive writer's preferences: Squid Ink… or Duck Feathers. With Ducks on the farm and Zubat having cleared out the local crows, Ron had plenty of both. He had no need to hoard them.
He returned to the farm, selected two fine feathers—one glossy black crow feather, one iridescent duck plume—and placed them before Sailor. "Take these… here." He tapped Elliot's seaside cabin on the Pokédex map.
Sailor tilted its head, snatched the feathers, and darted off.
---
At the seaside…
For his rare birthday treat, Elliot had steamed crabs and was now baking Crab Cakes. The Community Center shop had become a quiet blessing—affordable, fresh ingredients saving him from stale bread during writing marathons. He genuinely appreciated Ron's farm and Joy's initiative.
Just as the oven filled the cabin with golden aroma, tap-tap-tap came at the door.
"Who is it?"
Sailor paused, feathers clenched in its teeth, and knocked twice more. It hadn't been thrilled about the errand… until that scent hit its nose. Swallow.
The door opened. Elliot blinked at the Rattata, scanning the empty path. "A prank?" He frowned—no one in Pelican Town played such tricks on him.
Then a tug on his trousers.
He looked down. Sailor stood upright, carefully placing the feathers in his palm.
"This is…?"
"Happy birthday!" Leah appeared beside him, cradling a framed painting. She spotted Sailor and smiled. "Ah, Sailor! You're here too."
"Sailor?"
"Ron's Rattata," Leah said, stroking Sailor's head. She took the feathers. "Looks like Ron sent you a birthday gift."
Elliot froze. They'd only just met—surely not the sort of acquaintance who exchanged birthday presents.
And yet…
He loved them. They were perfect for crafting dip pens.
"Thank you," he said softly, accepting the feathers and her painting.
"I haven't visited the farm in ages," Leah mused, sniffing the air. "Is that Crab Cake?"
"Yes. Would you like some?" He glanced at Sailor, still gazing up hopefully. "You too?"
"Ratta!"
Elliot ushered them inside, placed a stool for Leah, and stacked books on another for Sailor. No separate corner meal—like at the saloon, Pokémon dined with their people.
As he pulled the Crab Cakes from the oven, he asked, "Are you close with Ron?"
"Hmm…?" Leah considered it. "I'd like to think we're friends. But he's so busy—I've only seen him a handful of times." She smiled. "I like him. Not that way—he's just… a genuinely good person."
She'd chatted with neighbor Jodi often. Once, Jodi constantly lamented the weight of raising Vincent and Sam alone. Lately? Her voice carried lightness—praising the farm's affordable vegetables, thanking Ron for easing her burdens. The shadow over her had lifted. Leah understood why: those prices were astonishingly low. If it eased her weekly budget, imagine the relief for a single mother supporting three.
Elliot examined the feathers. The duck plume shimmered with familiar hues; the crow feather, pure black, caught the light with hidden iridescence.
"So beautiful…"
No writer could refuse a splendid pen—just as no warrior would reject a keen blade.
He swiftly crafted two elegant dip pens.
Leah watched, then turned to Sailor, who was polishing off the last bite. "Sailor, walk back to the farm with me later?"
"Ratta!" Sailor gulped water, nodded eagerly.
Leah ruffled its fur, waited patiently, then quietly cleared the dishes while Elliot scribbled furiously at his desk. She slipped out without a sound.
"Ratta, ratta!" Sailor followed, then froze—the Crab Pot! It scurried back, straining at the heavy trap.
Leah knelt beside it. "Let me help."
With a heave, she hauled it ashore.
Sailor dove inside—and emerged dragging a smooth, water-worn piece of driftwood.
It had never found anything but seafood in that pot before. Sailor was momentarily stunned.
Leah's eyes lit up. "Is this… for me?"
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