Garchomp stands with his arms crossed, watching you pace back and forth as you mull over something. He lets out a small sigh, clearly wondering why you're overthinking it. After a moment, he decides to shift the focus, his voice warm but firm, with a touch of a fatherly tone.

"What’s the matter? Just follow your heart, like you always do. And besides. I’m here too."

The issue at hand? You can't decide what you want for dinner.