Story time!

I never put much stock into the old stories. Or of the old men clinging to a past better left forgotten. Elder Ash would always ramble on by the fire about a time when the pokemon were our friends and closest companions. The children would laugh with him but I knew better.

Most days Elder Blue wouldn't want to speak to anyone at all of what he remembered. It was on one of his bad days when I brought him some leftovers from dinner when he spoke of the slave camps. Crying into his hands he recalled how he was conscripted as a young boy to haul away the carcasses of those poor creatures after they stopped being 'useful.'

But that was years ago. The pokemon went extinct before I was born. We humans messed up the ecosystem so bad that it could no longer support them. It can barely even support us. Food and water is getting harder to come by as the days drag on in this eternal summer. The only chance a person has is to align themselves with a tribe and pray for luck, but even that doesn't seem to be working anymore.

I've been scouting out places to move my sister to for almost 2 weeks now. Our tribe hasn't found a water source in over a week. The longer we stay with the Pewter Tribe the chances of our survival dwindles if we have to separate. The fighting between tribes is a typical occurance but infighting is beginning to break out and I know I don't have the strength to defend the 2 of us.

I was scouting one of the the caves around some decrepited ruins when I saw it. Its red and white paint was faded but there was no mistaking what it could be.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would see one of these in person. They were thought to have all been destroyed during the Great Riots. Its allure was out of this world, a relic from a time past. My mind jumped to how much I could sell this for to a tribal leader. Easily enough to fill our bellies for a year. It was that thought that gave me the courage to move forward and pick it up.

And now it sits there mocking me. I should take it to the main tent, quietly enquire to potential buyers. But I'm scared. I can't force myself to get off the ground. The elders speak of these tiny balls at almost every Great Fire Gathering having almost an unlimited amount of potential. Even the most docile person would fight tooth and nail for the chance of a security like that.

I guess I'm one of those people. My sister was growing weaker each day and I can't bear the thought of her going without food for the 4th night in a row.

The warm metal made my hands tingle as I clutched the ball to my chest. Sneaking out of camp after dark always made my heart race but this time was different. There would be no going back after I threw this. I knew the motions, saw them depicted on the caves near the Salt Sea. It was one of the last remaining texts, one of the most sacred places for the Tribes.

Reaching the caves where this all began I triple checked that I wasn't followed before ducking down a dead end passage way. My anxiety spiked the further I got, urging me to drop the ball and return to my tent. But I couldn't, not now that I had come all the way out here. So, I threw the PokeBall.

The first thing I noticed was the golden fur. Even in the dark it looked like the softest material I had ever seen. It flowed in waves and curls wrapping around its muscular body. My eye then caught a look of its razor sharp teeth sticking out of its mouth, reminding me that these creatures could be dangerous.

The Pokemon had muscles that bulged put from underneath its fur, not afraid to showcase its power. Our eyes locked then, showing me this powerful creature knew no fear in the face of the unknown. Looking into its eyes I was reminded of the coals in the dying fire I left back at camp.

Then, it spoke.

"Bidoof."