Chapter 3: The Hunter’s Instinct

The forest was still. No voices. No signs of life except the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Alex crouched near the water's edge, his body tense. His stomach had settled somewhat after the awful ordeal of eating that cricket, but the thought of doing it again made his skin crawl. He couldn't let that become a habit.

He was not going to lose himself.

That thought clung to his mind as he gazed at his own reflection in the water. The sleek, blue face of a Froakie stared back at him, big round eyes full of uncertainty. He was starting to recognize this face as his own, but it still felt wrong.

A soft sigh left his throat. He had been here for hours, yet he hadn't seen a single Pokémon, nor a human. No signs of civilization. The silence was unsettling.

Am I really alone here?

The loneliness was creeping in, a slow, cold weight in his chest. He hadn't noticed it at first, too overwhelmed by his transformation. But now, after spending so much time in this empty wilderness, the lack of company felt suffocating.

His family… his friends… he would have given anything to hear a familiar voice.

No. Focus, Alex. One problem at a time.

Pushing aside the ache in his chest, he turned his attention back to the water.

He needed a different food source. Something that wouldn't make him feel like he was losing his humanity.

And that meant fish.

Froakies were water Pokémon, right? That meant he could swim well, maybe even catch fish if he tried hard enough. It had to be better than eating bugs.

He took a cautious step forward, dipping one webbed foot into the cool water. A small shiver ran up his spine, but not out of discomfort—rather, something about the water felt natural. As if he belonged here.

Okay. First step is figuring out how to move in the water.

Carefully, he waded in, his body light against the surface. The moment his arms and legs began moving, instinct kicked in. Unlike walking on land, which still felt foreign and awkward, swimming was effortless. His webbed hands and feet pushed him forward smoothly, gliding across the water with surprising speed.

A small sense of satisfaction filled him.

Alright… at least I won't drown.

Now, the hard part—hunting.

He peered into the water, scanning for movement. The moonlight barely reached beneath the surface, but his sharper eyes caught tiny ripples below. Small fish darted between the plants near the riverbed, their silver scales flashing for brief moments before vanishing again.

His stomach rumbled in anticipation.

Then, just like before, instinct stirred. His body tensed, ready to strike, but he hesitated.

No. I need to do this my way.

His human mind refused to let him act without thinking. He wasn't some mindless creature running on pure hunger. He had to strategize.

Slowly, he lowered his body, letting himself drift near the surface. His movements had to be quiet—no sudden splashes. The fish were fast, and he had no idea how well he could even catch one.

A shadow moved below. One of the fish had wandered closer, unaware of the danger above.

Alex steadied himself. His heart pounded.

Then, in one swift motion, he lunged.

His body shot downward with an unexpected burst of speed. His arms reached forward, webbed fingers stretching—

His hands closed around something slick and wriggling.

I got it!

For a brief moment, triumph surged in his chest. But then—

The fish thrashed wildly, slipping from his grasp. His hold wasn't strong enough. He scrambled, trying to recapture it, but it shot away in a blur of silver.

Alex surfaced with a frustrated gasp, splashing water everywhere.

"Ugh!" He groaned, wiping his face. "So close."

He glanced down again. The fish had vanished.

He took a deep breath, calming himself. He needed a better grip, more control. I can't just grab them like I have human hands… I need to think like a Pokémon.

The thought sent a strange shiver down his spine. He didn't want to rely on instincts, but in this world, they were part of him now. He had to find a balance.

Okay. I need to be quicker. Maybe I should use my tongue?

The idea made him cringe. But… it had worked on the cricket. Maybe it would work here too.

Sighing, he readied himself again. He floated motionless, waiting.

Another fish came close.

This time, he didn't hesitate. His tongue shot out, wrapping around the slippery creature before it could react. The moment he felt it struggling, he pulled back sharply, tossing it onto the riverbank.

He blinked.

It… actually worked.

Scrambling out of the water, he approached the twitching fish. It was small, no longer than his hand, its gills opening and closing in rapid panic.

His stomach growled, but now that the moment had arrived, hesitation crept back in.

He knew eating fish was more acceptable than bugs. People ate fish all the time. But there was something unnerving about catching one with his tongue.

He gulped.

Just don't think about it too much.

Closing his eyes, he took a small bite.

The taste was fresh, slightly salty, and much better than the cricket. It wasn't seasoned, of course, but compared to the bitter crunch of an insect, this was practically a feast.

A relieved sigh escaped him.

Okay. This I can handle.

As he ate, a small weight lifted from his chest. He had done it. He had found a way to survive without completely giving in to his Pokémon instincts.

But the loneliness still lingered.

He stared at the darkened forest, the endless silence pressing in. No humans. No Pokémon. Just him.

Is this really how my life is going to be now?

A soft breeze rustled the grass, and for a moment, he felt impossibly small.

He would keep moving tomorrow. Find a real shelter. Maybe even find someone—anyone.

But for now, at least, he had food.

It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

And right now, that was enough.