Grovyle doesn't stop in his fleeing until he reaches Rhyme, wheeling around to see if he was followed, grunting to himself. He's definitely a bit more beat up than he looked when the two got seperated, and his words suggest why.

"Nn. Stick together. There are more reapers around like that one we found near Don Quixote. The NOT nice ones. Get ready; maybe you'll have more luck with those pins I couldn't use."

Panting to catch his breath, Grovyle readies himself, focusing the energy into that Croc Leisure pin; at least ONE pin he'd gotten worked for him.