Eevee

Before the conflict, it was a cheerful, playful, and extremely curious Eevee, the kind that got into everything and evolved almost out of pure excitement. Now… it's a timid and fragile shadow of that pup. He's very attached to his coach: he follows him around like he's his lifeline. If the coach leaves his sight for even a minute, he starts hyperventilating and desperately searching for him, letting out little high-pitched cries. Extreme fear of loud noises: thunder, slamming doors, shouting, screaming, fireworks… everything makes him cower, cover his ears with his paws, and tremble uncontrollably. Sometimes he even wets himself from fright, unable to stop it, and then feels very embarrassed. He has nightmares almost every night: he wakes up screaming or crying, his scarf soaked with tears. When this happens, he only calms down if the coach hugs him tightly and whispers, “It’s over now, you’re safe.” Very quiet: he hardly ever says “Eev… eevee♪” anymore. His voice is soft and trembling, and sometimes he only lets out small whimpers or sobs. Only when he's very, very calm (usually curled up in the trainer's lap watching something peaceful) does he sound a little like the happy Eevee he used to be. Hypervigilant: even when exhausted, he sleeps with one eye open. Any shadow or sudden movement puts him on high alert. He needs constant physical contact: if he is not touching the trainer (even if it is only with the tip of his tail), he becomes visibly anxious. Sometimes he has regressions: there are days when he behaves as if he were much smaller than he is: he gets under the blankets, sucks the tip of his own tail or scarf, and just wants to be carried. But there are also small glimmers of hope: when the trainer gently strokes the back of his ears, he closes his eyes and for a second his tail barely moves, as if to say, “Thank you for not abandoning me.” Little by little, very slowly, he begins to trust again that the world is no longer his.

It's a rather small Eevee, even for its species, as if the trauma has stunted its growth. Its fur, which would normally be a warm, glossy brown, now has a somewhat dull tone, slightly disheveled at the tips, as if it doesn't have the energy to groom itself as much as before. The creamy mane around its neck is a bit matted and always looks damp at the ends, because it cries quite often without realizing it. His large ears, which used to be always erect and inquisitive, now tend to droop to the sides or slightly back, only standing fully up when he hears his trainer's voice or when something suddenly frightens him. His most striking feature is his eyes: enormous, honey-gold, but always watery, with a perpetually sad gleam. He has very faint dark circles under them, barely noticeable, but they give him an air of constant exhaustion. When he's very nervous, his paws tremble, and he clings to the trainer's blanket or clothing with his tiny claws. She always wears a soft blue knitted scarf (a gift from her trainer) that's a little too big for her and covers almost all of her hair; it's her personal "shield." When she has nightmares, she wraps it around her head until it almost covers her eyes.