Sure it was cold, but what do you expect for somewhere so close to Snowpoint City. Despite the sharp frozen winds, the snowy forest seemed to be at peace, still and unmoving.
A single man, possibly an ex-trainer or wanderer, sat huddled in the snow, with his knees up to his face. He didn’t notice the beauty, and most likely wouldn’t, considering the thoughts that were banging inside his head.
“Where is everyone else? Am I really alone? It’s too cold out here. Why is it so cold? It’s cold enough to kill me. Will it kill me? Am I going to die out here?”
This man already was expecting Death to be outside his door, ready to end his existence. Beside him, was a Herdier, who laid in the snow, fast asleep. The snow didn’t bother him as much, but it still gave him a nip. His stomach and the man immediately took notice. He looked at the Herdier and dug into his pocket, before pulling out a single Oran Berry. He broke it in half, giving the Herdier the smaller half, and nibbling on his own.
The Herdier took the smaller half and ate in one quick bite. He had followed this man, in the hope of food. So far, he had received practically none. But what he had learned from all of his ancestors, is that humans can provide fire for warmth and food, so the Herdier decided to stay.
The man’s Pokemon, were snugly inside their pokeballs, but the capsules were frozen and the button had a thick coat of ice protecting it from being pressed. Leaving the man alone in the snow, as slowly, but steadily the wind picked up, creating a whirlwind of white that surrounded the man. He had walked as far as he could, and was tired.
With shaky hands, he reached in his tattered coat pocket, and pulled out a singe match. This was all he had, which he could hopefully use to start a fire and keep warm. With shivering limbs, and by using the last of strength he had been reserving, he wandered over to a few nearby trees too scrap off some park, and gather some wood. He cleared out the snow at his feet, making a crude fire pit.
Slowly, and while taking breaks to try to warm up his numb hands, he built a small fire. He struck the match, and the fire slowly spread, with the man watching eagerly and full of hope. The flame was weak, only a flicker when the wind picked up more. And within a second the man saw his life come to an end. The flicker, the spark of life, his only hope, was blown out by a simple breeze. The man sat there on his knees, dumbfounded, before falling into the snow, giving up.
The Herdier walked over and sniffed the man’s cold unmoving face. No response. The man was dead, so it was time to move on. For this was apart of nature. There was nothing this Pokemon could do to change that.
A single man, possibly an ex-trainer or wanderer, sat huddled in the snow, with his knees up to his face. He didn’t notice the beauty, and most likely wouldn’t, considering the thoughts that were banging inside his head.
“Where is everyone else? Am I really alone? It’s too cold out here. Why is it so cold? It’s cold enough to kill me. Will it kill me? Am I going to die out here?”
This man already was expecting Death to be outside his door, ready to end his existence. Beside him, was a Herdier, who laid in the snow, fast asleep. The snow didn’t bother him as much, but it still gave him a nip. His stomach and the man immediately took notice. He looked at the Herdier and dug into his pocket, before pulling out a single Oran Berry. He broke it in half, giving the Herdier the smaller half, and nibbling on his own.
The Herdier took the smaller half and ate in one quick bite. He had followed this man, in the hope of food. So far, he had received practically none. But what he had learned from all of his ancestors, is that humans can provide fire for warmth and food, so the Herdier decided to stay.
The man’s Pokemon, were snugly inside their pokeballs, but the capsules were frozen and the button had a thick coat of ice protecting it from being pressed. Leaving the man alone in the snow, as slowly, but steadily the wind picked up, creating a whirlwind of white that surrounded the man. He had walked as far as he could, and was tired.
With shaky hands, he reached in his tattered coat pocket, and pulled out a singe match. This was all he had, which he could hopefully use to start a fire and keep warm. With shivering limbs, and by using the last of strength he had been reserving, he wandered over to a few nearby trees too scrap off some park, and gather some wood. He cleared out the snow at his feet, making a crude fire pit.
Slowly, and while taking breaks to try to warm up his numb hands, he built a small fire. He struck the match, and the fire slowly spread, with the man watching eagerly and full of hope. The flame was weak, only a flicker when the wind picked up more. And within a second the man saw his life come to an end. The flicker, the spark of life, his only hope, was blown out by a simple breeze. The man sat there on his knees, dumbfounded, before falling into the snow, giving up.
The Herdier walked over and sniffed the man’s cold unmoving face. No response. The man was dead, so it was time to move on. For this was apart of nature. There was nothing this Pokemon could do to change that.