Wynmond melted when Christmas tapped his cheek, even if it was covered in mud and left a streak against his pale skin. Nothing a quick brush of his cheek couldn't fix, anyway. She was a good bulbasaur -- yes she was!
"It's a good idea," he admitted, hand reflexively tapping his own pokeball as his brain briefly drifted to Barker. He'd need to try that the next time Barker absolutely covered himself in filth, which... was often.
"Alright, well, I'm just-" Wynnie had been in the process of scurrying away when Lan pulled out his phone and shoved it at Wynmond, who answered with a raised eyebrow. Oh, yeah, right, right right. That's what people did when they wanted to stay in contact. Wynmond couldn't say he was often thought of in such a way; the numbers he had on his phone were just his parents and someone he purposefully had blocked. The reception on the island itself was limited, begging the question of why he even needed a phone when it was practically useless in Nauwill. Still, his mother had made him promise to carry the device regardless, even if the most usage it ever saw lately was accessing the Nauwill community server.
Anyway, the point was that he felt completely out of his element again. That's why he was in Nauwill in the first place, wasn't it? To undo habits he had frankly used as excuses to never grow or try things? To Lan it likely wasn't a big deal to hand the phone over, but for Wynmond the mere act of accepting Lan's phone was a big step.
"S-sure," he internally winced at the nervous stammer while he fished his own phone out. "One sec, I don't know my number by heart." Where was it- aaaah. He quickly typed in his number and name (Wynmond Collins) and gestured for Lan to take the phone back.
"I'll, uh, be around," he gestured around himself. "Remember to also turn in what we saw today. I heard they're still looking for more information." Which he was going to write up and do the second he got back to his living quarters.
He waved loosely as he headed off, hands shoving back into his pockets as he headed off to wherever it was a melancholy writer liked to brood when overstimulated. His bed, probably, or to make a cup of coffee. He doubted he'd see Lan again, honestly -- people liked to make plans and never showed up when it came to him. Still, it was nice to meet the bulbasaur and get his first look at a Nauwillian one.
Maybe someday he'd have his own, too.
