Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Eight

"No!" It took Red a second to realize the cry had issued from himself. The caterpie turned, and Red saw himself in the black pools of its eyes. It stared for a second, unmoving but for its face, where two small mandibles worked the meat into its mouth. Red watched it in horrified fascination. The cylindrical extension was open, revealing a tooth-lined maw. As the caterpie consumed its meal, the cylinder closed, hiding both the teeth and the mandibles. The caterpie then turned back towards the tree.
"Wag!" cried Nyoromo, jolting Red out of his shock. He raised his hand and threw a small sphere at the bug. It hit the creatures head, and broke open. A purple smog began to pour out of it, and the caterpie stopped moving. The smoke obscured the creature, but Red could still see when it began to thrash about. It screeched, and began to dart back and forth, spewing thread from its mouth. A gobbet of thread hit Red in the face with the force of strong punch, making him drop his bag. He fell back against the tree, clawing at his eyes. The threads completely obscured his vision, and pulled painfully at his face and hair as he attacked it.
The creature screeched again, and Red heard motion near him. The scream dropped in pitch and faded as the caterpie ran into the forest. He gave up on his eyes for the moment, and crawled forward, feeling for his bag. It was only when Nyoromo gave a pitiful little whimper from behind him did Red realize he had been crawling in the wrong direction. He turned, knowing that without his poliwag's aid, he would have crawled off alone and fallen prey to the forest.
He found the sphere he had thrown, now cracked, and felt a rush of appreciation for Oak. In the weeks after the Upheaval, before the Seven came to Pallet, he had developed a new recipe for repels that didn't require high technology. Instead of a spray, it was now stored in prepared apricorns. Much improved in the years since that dark time, every one of the Called was given a single repel just in case such a disaster befell them. Red doubted one had ever been used on a caterpie.
His bag was lying nearby. Feeling inside, he found the small knife he had been given by his mother the night before the Calling. He took it and carefully began to slice the threads on his face. It took him a little time, but he eventually had divided it into strips that peeled away easily. He cut himself only once, a shallow slash of red across his left eyelid. It would heal quickly, without a scar.
He looked around and found Nyoromo. The pokémon was limp against the tree, barely conscious. White poured from its wound, and ran off it down the tree. Red felt a surge of pity for the creature. He rushed over and cut it free. He held Nyoromo against him as he took a small bottle from his bag. He poured a liquid from it directly onto the wound, and the pokémon went rigid before writhing about, crying loudly. Red winced, but grimly held the squirming creature until it finally collapsed, exhausted. Red peeled the rest of the threads off, and then placed some on the wound to facilitate healing. Despite the dangers inherent in retrieving it, caterpie thread had amazing restorative capabilities.
Looking up from his task, Red saw the dim forest was growing darker. The night was approaching, with dangers of its own.