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Today, Lyre was out to prove that there were indeed no spooky creatures in this ‘haunted mansion’ that his rival, Convict, had been oh so incoherently babbling about. As he pushed the gate open, his tall ears raised and flicked slowly, side to side, in careful caution. The front yard of this place was completely dead. Hazy and a heavy fog hung over the grass in an eerie manner. Distantly, the setting dusk sun could be seen, but barely through the tangled branches of the dead and black trees that clogged the manor’s grounds. Various carved stonework littered the premises, various Pokemon or their trainers in stoic poses. The whole scene had an almost eerie hush over it, interrupted starkly by the creaking of this iron gate being pushed open by the massive cat. He paused a moment, glancing warily about with his red eyes to see if the sudden, wrenching squeak had disturbed anything. After a few seconds, it seemed to not be the case, and he took a few slow steps onto the grounds.