The arctic winds whip the icy rain in my face. My yellow fur, my mask and cape are soaking wet. I’m freezing beneath it, but I won’t let anyone know. Every little shaking could be misinterpreted as a sign of weakness. Chilled to the bone I will defy this weather suitable for a place like this. This is a rotten town, with a lot of rotten people and pokemon in it. Fortunately I am accustomed to squalor. If the storm would just wash away all the filth! And I am not thinking of the rubbish littering the alleyway.
Word came to my ear of another jolteon causing a lot of commotion lately. A skinny one, vicious, with his left ear torn and his right fang protruding! A scavenger! Well, nothing wrong with that. A lot of pokemon in the streets rely on scavenging, but he overdid it. Stealing the food from weaker, much younger and older harmless pokemon, often attacking them viciously disgusts me. I followed every trace and every rumour about him. At some time I didn’t even believe he was real anymore. That jolteon seemed to be more like an urban legend. An excuse for everything bad that’s happening, but this night, in this storm I finally tracked him down in this rundown part of this godforsaken city.
He is in a bad shape, even thinner than I expected, but he is not looking like the monster his victims described him as. He must be hungry and freezing too. He sure isn’t living a privileged life like me. That jolteon is not my enemy. He needs my help, though he may not admit it. I will get closer and confront him. I make no move to sneak up to him. I don’t want to surprise him. He notices me even earlier than I expected, although the rainstorm is deafening. I suppose he must have gone through hell. As soon as he takes notice of me he swiftly spins around, his upper lip lifting to expose his fangs as he lets out a blurred grunt, eyeing me.
“Let me guess, escapee from the mad house?" he chuckles a moment later. I can see the haze of his breath in the cold air.
I cannot afford showing any sign of weakness now. My response to his insult must be as hard-boiled as possible.
"People lose teeth talking like that. If you want to hang around, you'll be polite." I say and tell him that I am the Rolling Thunder.
He takes a seat, narrowing his eyes.
“Good thing I can regrow mine, then.” the other jolteon says taking a seat avoiding a puddle.
I must not show it, but mentally I am smiling. I am managing to win him over.

From the left to the right:
Tesla the male jolteon alias Rolling Thunder
Erebus the male jolteon

Sometimes the border between victim and delinquent is thin as a leaf and even more often it’s blending into each other. Who am I to judge a starving pokemon? Erebus is just trying to survive, but I must get him to stop stealing from even weaker pokemon.
This is a gift aft for Giygaswar. He asked for an image featuring his badass jolteon character Erebus meeting the Rolling Thunder. The image features a scene from some roleplay about the first encounter of our characters we had.That was some really fun pokefur rp with a lot of noir-speech and Giygaswar is a fantastic roleplayer. He is better than me, I think, and his character fits my idea of Goldenrod City excellently. Tesla met a lot of hard-boiled pokemon yet, but Erebus is 20 minutes! The text above describes briefly the scene from the Rolling Thunder’s point of view.
I enjoyed painting this a lot. Erebus is an interesting character to paint. Thankfully Giygaswar sent me a long profile about Erebus, containing detailed information and even an updated background story. Thanks again! It was fun to read.

Please also check out Erebus point of view on the depicted scene on Giygaswar's gallery: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/18670722/

Done with pigment ink on 250g/m² illustration paper and GIMP 2.8.