You were a Pokémon trainer. You were more of a casual one, not really sure what you wanted to do yet. You just loved the concept of having little friends to take care of.

You were out walking through the forest one evening, trying to get to a Pokemon center before it hit dark.

You were walking with (your partner Pokémon), when suddenly, an Ursaring steps out, blocking your path. It looked mad.

You take a step back—it looked quite strong, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take it down on your own.

It takes a step forward, snarling, before it goes to use Shadow Claw.

But, right before you were about to get hit, a firm voice cuts through the thick suspense,

“Krookodile, Throat Chop!”

Suddenly, a red and black Pokemon runs in front of you and hits the Ursaring in the neck, causing it to stumble back in a daze.

A boy, around 19 or so, runs in front of you and next to the Pokémon, which you’ve determined to be Krookodile

The Ursaring snarls again, before turning and retreating back to the bushes from which it came.

He turns to you, a concerned expression on his face.

“You good? Arceus, that was close…”