“Hilbert, Hilda! It’s time to get moving!” Hugh called out, his voice cutting through the sound of the nearby stream.

  Nate and Hugh walked down the gentle slope to their teammates. Nate's earlier discomfort with the act of catching Deerling began to fade into the rhythm of the mission.

  “I suppose you're right,” Hilda groaned. She was sprawling in the tall grass, a dandelion chain half-finished in her lap, with Cottonee nestled beside her like a fluffy white pillow. She lazily reached for Cottonee's ball, the red beam recalling her partner into safety.

  “Hilbert, are you ready to leave?” Nate asked.

  In the water, Hilbert was currently engaged in a splash war with the Pokémon. “Yeah! Just one sec!” he responded. He chased the frolicking Deerling to the muddy bank, Scraggy waddling happily behind him.

  “Alright you two, we’ve had enough fun for now. Time to get some rest.” He reached to his belt, enlarging both Poké Balls to recall his new catches. “You too, Scraggy.”

  “Don’t you need a break, Bert? You were playing with those Deerling non-stop,” Hilda remarked as she stood up, brushing loose blades of grass off her clothes.

  “Nah, I’m good!” Hilbert replied enthusiastically, hopping on one foot. “I got to say, I’m sad I won’t be keeping the Deerling. They were a lot of fun!” He looked down at his feet, caked in river mud and green slime.

  Hilda smirked and shook her head, digging into her pack.

  “Here.” She grabbed a small, dry rag and tossed it to her friend. “I don’t need it back,” she added in a light-hearted voice.

  “Thanks, Da!”

  Nate watched them, impressed how the dynamic of Hilda and Hilbert could shift so seamlessly from bickering rivals to genuine, caring friends. He thought the nicknames they had for each other, ‘Bert and Da,’ were clever. It was a secret language that served as a testament to the closeness of their relationship. They were certainly an odd pair, but they complemented each other perfectly.

  As Hilbert struggled to put on his socks and shoes with damp, pruned feet, Hugh was already back to work. He held the scent tube to Tepig's nose. Tepig circled the area, snout to the air. It followed a trail, then backtracked, sneezing at the dust. Then it picked up another scent, only to be led to a dead end. It started to squeal in frustration, its little hooves stamping the dirt as it kept losing the scent.

  “Is Tepig okay?” Nate asked Hugh.

  “I think he's having trouble,” Hugh replied, frowning.

  He raised the summer scent vial to his own nose and took a whiff. “The sample still has a scent. I think we scared the Deerling too far off.”

  “Maybe,” Nate said, looking into the dense thicket.

  “Hey, are we sniffing vials? Can I have a whiff?” Hilbert asked, finally shoed. Hilda slapped him on the arm.

  “Sure.” Hugh handed the vial back to him without looking.

  “Smells like a mowed lawn,” Hilbert commented, wrinkling his nose.

  “Lemme see,” Hilda grabbed the vial, curiosity getting the better of her. “It's got an earthy-grassy scent,” she said, holding it out to examine the green liquid.

  “Alright, now I have to try,” Nate said. He, too, was rather curious.

  He took the vial from Hilda and inhaled. It wasn't strong, but it carried the distinct, humid sweetness of morning dew on grass.

  “Kind of reminds me of Floccesy Ranch,” Nate commented, a wave of nostalgia hitting him.

  Hugh smiled, soft and brief. “Yeah, it does.”

  “What about the other scents?” Hilbert wondered.

  “Well…” Hugh shuffled the velvet pouch open. He grabbed a vial filled with orange liquid and handed it to Hilbert.

  “Haha! This one smells like Christmas decorations,” Hilbert said.

  Hilda snatched the vial from his hand. “No it doesn't,” she said with a frown. “It smells like…” She took another deep whiff, closing her eyes. “Pine trees. Or, maple syrup, maybe?”

  She handed it to Nate without him asking. Nate took a whiff. The scent was spicy and warm.

  “What do you think?” She asked.

  “Reminds me of cinnamon pancakes,” Nate replied with a small laugh.

  Hilbert and Hilda laughed.

  “You hungry Nate?” Hilda teased.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “This one doesn’t have a scent.” Hugh handed the Winter vial back to the group for them to verify with their own noses. It was sterile, like cold air.

  Hugh took the last vial, the pink liquid, and put it to his nose. Immediately, Tepig perked up. The Pokémon scrambled over to Hugh, practically climbing his pant leg to get to the source.

  “Woah! Easy Tepig! You catch a scent?” Hugh said, lifting his arms to save the vial from being knocked over.

  Tepig nodded vigorously towards the open vial.

  “Is that the Spring scent?” Hilda asked.

  “Uhh, yeah, it is,” Hugh said, confused. He looked at the surrounding green forest. “Tepig, this is the Spring Form scent. We won't find any of those in the summer. It's August.”

  Tepig insisted, squeaking and pointing its snout at the pink vial.

  Hugh turned to the others, then back to his partner. “Alright, I guess I'll let you try this one,” Hugh reluctantly offered the vial to Tepig.

  Nate watched with bated breath as Tepig inhaled the spring aroma. The reaction was instant. Tepig shot its snout into the air, catching whiffs of the breeze. It turned a full circle, gathering as much of the sensory data as it could, and then, like a compass needle snapping to magnetic north, it stared straight into the deep woods.

  “I think Tepig has something,” Nate said quietly.

  “No shot,” Hilbert replied, his voice covered in awe.

  Tepig darted towards the trace, barking for the others to follow. The four Trainers chased after the squealing pig, weaving through the ancient trunks just as they had done earlier. But this time, the path was wilder. Tepig led them deep into the untreated brush and up a steep mountainside. They climbed until their calves burned, gaining elevation until Tepig finally skidded to a stop.

  “Jeez, Tepig! How far did you take us?” Hilda remarked, catching her breath.

  “Shhh! Quiet!” Hugh hissed. He signaled the others to get down.

  Hugh was on his elbows, belly-crawling to get near eye-level with Tepig, who had taken cover in a thick fern bush. Nate silently made his way next to Hugh, staring at whatever Tepig was laser-focused on.

  “Look,” Hugh mouthed in a barely audible whisper.

  Nate got as close as he could to Hugh. Through the gap in the bush leaves and tall grass, Nate could see a patch of pink fur bundled up against the rotting bark of a fallen oak.

  It was a Deerling. Not the green-coated Summer Form they had encountered in the valley, but a pink one.

  “Spring Form?” Nate whispered.

  “How is that possible? It's August,” Hugh remarked, eyes narrowing.

  Nate was in disbelief. Hilda and Hilbert crept up behind them, both crouching low.

  “It's a Spring Form Deerling,” he whispered back to them.

  “What? Are you sure?” Hilbert asked.

  He signaled them to come closer. Nate rolled to his side to make more room, careful not to expose himself. Hilda and Hilbert shimmied forward, practically on their stomachs. The space was tight. Hilda scooted in close next to Nate, her shoulder and side pressed firmly against his chest. Nate felt his face heat up as she settled beside him, so uncomfortably close. She seemed like she didn't notice him at all… or care.

  “There's no way that's a Deerling, right?” Hilda asked quietly, using Hilbert's back to prop herself up for a better view.

  “It definitely is,” Hugh replied, holding Tepig back with one arm.

  Nate peered through the bush again. The Deerling was lying there, alone. It was unnervingly quiet, its eyes scanning the perimeter with paranoia. Its ears twitched erratically.

  Then, it turned its head, and Nate saw its face.

  On its head, the flower that normally bloomed bright yellow was withered, and brown on one side. Underneath it was a gash that exposed raw skin and red flesh, the edges covered in dark necrosis. A jagged scar ran across its forehead, slicing down through the eyelid.

  “Oh my god,” Hilda whimpered, her breath hot on the back of Nate’s neck.

  “What happened to it?” Hilbert whispered, his tone dropping.

  “I don't know.” Nate stared with shock and horror.

  The creature rested its head on the grass, letting out a painful snort of air. It looked significantly thinner than the standard Deerling.

  “Normally, Deerling wander in packs. This one is all alone,” Hugh said grimly.

  “You think that injury is preventing a form change?” Hilbert asked.

  “Possibly. It could also be the reason why it's alone. Other Deerling may not recognize its scent as one of their own. It’s an outcast.”

  “Whatever the reason is, we have to help it,” Nate said firmly.

  The three others looked among themselves and nodded.

  “So, how are we going to handle this one?” Hilda asked.

  “We'll all have to surround it. Hugh and I can come in from the left. Hilda, Hilbert, you'll go right. Try to get in as close as possible before catching it.”

  The team backed out of the cramped bush and split off. Nate and Hugh veered to the left, keeping a wide berth to avoid alerting the skittish Pokémon.

  “You think Hilda and Hilbert are in position?” Hugh asked.

  “Let's hope so,” Nate replied.

  The two of them crouched by a cluster of birch trees. The Deerling was out of sight behind the foliage, but the fallen log was their landmark. The boys crept toward it, separating slightly to cut off escape routes. Nate crouched behind a large boulder that gave him a clear view. The Deerling was facing away from him. Past the fallen log, he saw Hilbert peering out from a thicket, waiting for the signal.

  Nate readied a Poké Ball in his hand. He looked to the right and saw Hugh doing the same. Hugh met Nate's glance and nodded.

  Okay, make this quick.

  Nate placed a hand on the boulder in front of him, ready to vault over and spring into action.

  But the boulder had other plans.

  The rock under his hand shifted. Nate jumped back, his heart skipping a beat as the ground beneath him groaned. A deep, guttural roar erupted from his immediate left, and a massive, steel-plated tail slammed into his side.

  Nate was launched sideways, hitting the forest floor with a bone-rattling thump.

  Everything around him dissolved into a blur of color and noise. He hit his head hard on a tree root. He heard Hilbert shout his name and a terrified cry from Hilda. But drowning them all out was Hugh’s voice, roaring over the chaos.

  “Tepig, don't let Deerling get away!”

  Thunderous stomps vibrated the earth, shaking the foundation of the trees around him. A hulking, grey behemoth towered over Nate, blotting out the sun.

  A wild Aggron.

  A high-pressure jet of water flew above Nate’s head, pushing the steel monster back inches. He felt rough hands grab his collar. Hugh was dragging him through the dirt. His vision swam into focus. His ears rang with a high-pitched whine. The pain in his chest flared, and his head throbbed in time with his racing heart.

  “Nate, can you get up?” Hugh cried, desperation in his voice.

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  Nate looked up. His friend stood over him, arms spread wide.

  “Psyduck, Water Gun!”

  Nate grunted, trying to inhale, but the wind had been knocked out of him. He huffed for air, struggling to inflate his lungs. Hugh stepped over him, putting himself directly between Nate and the monster.

  “I'm not leaving you, buddy!” Hugh screamed at the beast.

  “Dodge, Psyduck!”

  An avalanche of boulders materialized in the air. Rock Slide. They came crashing down where Psyduck had stood a second before, shattering trees and churning the earth.

  I have to help him.

  The sounds of battle became clearer as the ringing faded. He heard Psyduck cry out in pain as shrapnel from the rocks clipped it. Hugh shouted for Psyduck to continue. Nate struggled, clawing at the bark of a tree, and forced himself to stand.

  “Hugh!” Nate growled, his voice weak.

  “Nate! Get away from here! I'll deal with Aggron!” Hugh shouted, not looking back. His face was wrought with panic.

  The Aggron brandished its tail, the iron plating glistening menacingly. As Psyduck fired another Water Gun, the beast spun. Iron Tail. It struck Psyduck mid-stream, sending the duck tumbling across the forest floor. Psyduck struggled, but got back up on its webbed feet, determined to defend the boys.

  Nate reached to his belt, his fingers trembling. Psyduck couldn't hold that monster back alone.

  “Oshawott… Go!” Nate cried out.

  The little otter appeared next to Psyduck looking fierce despite its size.

  Hugh turned to Nate, surprised to see his friend standing.

  “Nate…” Hugh said.

  “I’m alright,” Nate reassured him, fighting the nausea. “We’re a team, remember?”

  Hugh's shocked expression hardened into resolve. He nodded once, a feral grin breaking out.

  The wild Aggron’s blue eyes burned with rage. It towered over them, a living tank of steel and rock. It crouched down with a roar, summoning another Rock Slide.

  “Psyduck, Disable!”

  Psyduck grabbed its head, eyes glowing blue. It gathered all its psychic energy, condensing it to the apex of its headache. With a forceful psychic pulse, the rocks hovering above Aggron crumbled into dust. The Aggron stumbled backward, confused by the sudden seal on its power.

  “Oshawott, Water Gun!” Nate shouted.

  Oshawott spat a torrent of water towards the stumbling Aggron, hitting it center mass. The super-effective hit forced the heavy beast to one knee.

  “Now, follow up with Razor Shell!”

  Brandishing his scalchop, Oshawott charged, the shell glowing with a blade of blue energy. But the Aggron was fast. It recovered to its feet and coated its tail in sleek, metallic light. It spun. Oshawott didn't see the Iron Tail coming.

  Aggron’s tail collided with Oshawott before he could make contact with Razor Shell.

  Oshawott flew to the side, slamming into a tree trunk with sickening force.

  “No, Oshawott!”

  Aggron didn't let up. It dropped to all fours and tucked its head, charging the downed Oshawott with Iron Head.

  “Psyduck, protect Oshawott with Water Gun!”

  Psyduck quickly moved to intercept. Water shot from its beak, striking Aggron in the face, blinding it momentarily.

  “Oshawott get out of there!” Nate yelled.

  Oshawott rolled to the side just as the Aggron struck the tree. The impact splintered the trunk, sending the massive oak toppling over with a crash that shook the forest. The Aggron shook off the splinters, completely unfazed, and turned its burning gaze back to the Water-types.

  “It’s too strong!” Hugh cried behind gritted teeth.

  “We’ll have to attack with everything we got,” Nate said, sweat stinging his eyes. “Oshawott, Water Gun! Don’t stop!”

  Oshawott obeyed, launching water at Aggron with every ounce of strength left in his small body. Aggron roared and charged forward, fighting the current.

  “Psyduck, help Oshawott with your Water Gun!” Hugh shouted.

  Both Water-types combined their streams. The water pressure intensified. The streams began to twist around each other, pulsating with kinetic energy.

  “What’s going on?” Nate observed.

  “I think that’s Water Pulse!” Hugh cried.

  The combined attack enveloped Aggron in a vibrating sphere of water. The sonic vibrations hammered the steel beast. Aggron broke free from the pulse, stumbling blindly, shaking its head. It was soaked, confused, and furious. It stomped the ground, bashing its armored head against a tree in a daze.

  Then, it locked onto a target.

  It charged straight for Nate, eyes shut, head tucked, a runaway train of iron.

  “Watch out!” Hugh yelled, panic cracking his voice.

  Nate dove to the right, hitting the dirt. The Aggron’s rampage continued, the thundering footsteps getting closer.

  “Nate!” Hugh screamed.

  It happened in a flash. Nate looked up to see the living boulder trampling the ground a few feet from his face. He was going to die. Instinct took over. He couldn't run. He grabbed the only thing he had, an empty Poké Ball. Nate threw it directly at the charging face of the monster.

  He covered his head and prayed.

  He felt the wind of the Aggron’s momentum wash over him.

  But the impact never came.

  Nate opened one eye. The Aggron had vanished. On the ground in front of him, spinning in the dirt, was a shaking Poké Ball, the center button glowing a bright, angry red.

  “Nate, are you alright?” Hugh came stumbling to his side, face pale.

  “Yeah, I-I’m okay,” Nate managed, his voice trembling. Hugh helped Nate up to his feet. His elbows were bruised and bleeding, and his head throbbed.

  Nate and Hugh watched in silence as the Poké Ball shook violently. One shake. Two shakes.

  Bang!

  A white flash burst apart the center clasp. The Aggron materialized, shaking its head, growling in confusion. It looked at Nate, then at Hugh, standing a mere foot away. The confusion in its eyes lingered. It snorted, turned its massive bulk, and bolted off into the deep forest, crashing through trees as it disappeared.

  “Glad that’s over with.” Hugh let out a deep, shuddering sigh.

  Nate rubbed his head, wincing.

  “You sure you're doing alright?” Hugh placed a firm hand on Nate’s shoulder, squeezing tight.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He looked at his friend. Hugh’s face was covered in dirt and concern. “Thanks for saving my life.”

  Hugh shook his head with a tired grin. “Don't mention it.”

  Psyduck and Oshawott both waddled towards their trainers, collapsing on the grass. They were utterly spent.

  “Take a rest, Psyduck.” Hugh recalled his battle-worn partner. Nate did the same, whispering a thank you to Oshawott.

  “Where are Hilda and Hilbert?” Nate asked, looking around the decimated clearing.

  “I told them and Tepig to chase after Deerling. When Aggron struck you, Deerling bolted off.”

  “Then we should hurry. Hopefully they didn’t get too far.”

  Hilda crouched low, avoiding the paranoid gaze of the Deerling. Hilbert was mirroring her on the other side. She could see Hugh across from her, and Nate’s head peeking from the cover of a boulder.

  Don’t worry, Deerling. We’re here to help.

  The sight of the creature made Hilda’s gut wrench. The necrotic tissue, the withered flower, it was a heartbreaking image of suffering.

  Poor thing.

  She readied her Poké Ball in her fist, preparing to encroach.

  Three. Two. One…

  The ground lurched violently. Hilda stumbled to her knees as a roar shattered the silence. She heard Nate yell in pain, followed by the sickening sound of a body hitting the earth.

  “Nate!” Hilbert cried to her side.

  She looked over. Where Nate had been hiding, a towering Aggron now stood, roaring with primal anger. The sound vibrated in her chest, a physical force that shook her core.

  “Ahhrrghh!” She shouted, covering her ears.

  Immediately, the Deerling was on its feet. It dashed right in front of her, fleeing the noise. Hilda barely processed it. Her mind was split.

  Where is Nate? Is he okay?

  “Hilda! Hilbert! Deerling ran your way! Go after it!” Hugh’s voice cut through the air.

  She turned around and saw the fleeting pink mass dashing into the dense forest.

  “Tepig, Don’t let Deerling get away!”

  Tepig darted past her, racing after the target.

  “Hilda we have to go after Deerling!” Hilbert yelled, hauling her to her feet.

  “Nate! Where is he?” She spun around, frantic. All she saw was the Aggron charging, trees splintering like matchsticks.

  “Psyduck, Go! Water Gun!” Hugh cried.

  She saw Hugh dragging a limp figure along the forest floor, but the foliage obscured the face.

  “C’mon Hilda!” Hilbert yelled, dragging her by the arm.

  “But... Nate...” She stammered, struggling against Hilbert’s grip.

  “Hugh’s got him! We’re going after Deerling!”

  She looked back one last time. Hugh was standing alone against Aggron. Hilbert pulled harder, and she was forced to turn. Her gaze lingered a second longer, catching a glimpse of Nate on the ground, gasping for air.

  Nate…

  Hilbert and Hilda fled into the forest, chasing the sound of Tepig’s barks. They ran deeper and deeper up the mountainside, the terrain becoming rockier and steeper. Hilda's breath came in short gasps, her heart pumping pure adrenaline.

  Deerling was ahead of them, running and yelping in panic. It slipped out of sight, only for Tepig to guide them back on the trail.

  “Deerling…. please…” Hilda gasped, her lungs burning.

  They burst into a clearing where the Deerling had finally stopped. It wheezed and huffed, its skinny legs shaking from exhaustion.

  “Okay Tepig, get ready with Flame Charge!” Hilbert commanded.

  “Wait!” Hilda cried, throwing her hand out. “Deerling is too weak! We can't attack it.”

  She crept slowly toward the creature as Tepig backed down, the flames on its snout dying out. “It's alright Deerling, we're not going to fight.”

  The Deerling snarled. It wasn't a sound of aggression, but of pure terror. Fear showered over its disfigured face. Hilda approached it cautiously, clutching a Poké Ball behind her back.

  Just a little closer.

  “Hilda!”

  The Deerling dove headfirst toward her. With the last dregs of energy it had to spare, it charged with a Take Down, aiming directly for her chest. She winced and braced herself for the impact.

  A body slammed into hers, knocking her sideways.

  They both hit the dirt. Hilda was unhurt, but Hilbert lay beside her, curled into a ball. He had placed himself between Hilda and the attack, taking the full force of the Take Down right in the gut.

  “Hilbert!” Hilda cried out, crawling over to him. She placed her hands on his back, turning him over.

  “Gah!” He wheezed, eyes squeezed shut. “Hilda… Deerling…” he gasped between breaths, his arms wrapped tight around his stomach.

  The Deerling had run off, vanishing into the trees again.

  “You're hurt!” She said, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

  “I'm okay, I just... need to catch my breath. It's not the first time a Pokémon knocked the wind out of me.” Hilbert forced a smirk, though his face was pale.

  Hilda forced a laugh, rubbing her eyes furiously.

  “Go,” Hilbert waved a weak hand. “I'll catch up.” He turned over, coughing.

  Hilda nodded, biting her lip. She signaled to Tepig.

  “You better not die on me!” She shouted to Hilbert as she ran.

  “Don't count on it!” He wheezed back.

  Hilda and Tepig caught up with the Deerling at the edge of the world. The chase had ended at a sheer cliff face. There was nowhere left to run. The Deerling stood trembling on the precipice, trapped between a fifty-foot drop and the approaching trainer.

  “Deerling, it's okay. I know you're scared, but come with me. I want to help you,” Hilda pleaded, stepping forward with her hands up. Tepig oinked softly, trying to de-escalate.

  The Deerling stared back. It trembled violently, fear overcoming every instinct. Hilda looked into its eyes and her blood ran cold.

  She didn't see anger. She saw trauma. Deep, scarring trauma that went far beyond the gash on its head. The Deerling looked at her as if she were a monster. It stepped backward, hooves sending pebbles skittering over the edge.

  “Deerling, no! Don't!”

  It shut its eyes and whimpered. It made a choice.

  It would rather fall.

  With a final, terrified cry, the Deerling turned and dashed for the void.

  “No!”

  The Poké Ball flew from Hilda's fingertips. Time seemed to warp, slowing to a crawl. The red and white sphere chased the pink blur right to the edge. The Deerling leaped.

  Mid-jump, suspended over the abyss, the Poké Ball struck the Deerling in the back.

  A flash of red light. The Deerling’s momentum ceased instantly, defying the laws of physics, and was sucked into the capsule before gravity could claim it.

  The ball clattered onto the stone, inches from the edge.

  It shook.

  One.

  The wind howled up the cliff face.

  Two.

  Hilda held her breath.

  Three.

  Click.

  Everything was quiet. The wind whistled mournfully through the trees. Leaves blew across Hilda's feet, rustling like dry whispers. Tepig looked at Hilda, its face solemn and unmoving.

  She walked slowly to the Poké Ball, which lay motionless in the dirt. She picked it up. It felt impossibly heavy. She stared past it, down into the dizzying chasm of jagged rocks and trees below.

  It would rather die than be captured.

  She stepped away from the edge, a shiver running down her spine.

  “What happened to you?” She whispered to the ball.

  Tepig walked to Hilda, ears drooping.

  Hilda crouched down and placed a shaking hand on its head. “Thank you, Tepig. You did amazing. C'mon, let's go find the others.”

  “Hilda!” Hilbert's voice came through the trees.

  She saw Hilbert waving to her, clutching his side but walking. Alongside him were Nate and Hugh.

  Nate!

  She ran to them, a small surge of relief drowning out the horror for a brief second. Tepig rushed to Hugh.

  Hilda ran past Hilbert and embraced Nate, slamming into him and squeezing as hard as she could.

  “Nate! Oh my god, are you alright?” She buried her face in his shoulder, needing to feel that he was solid.

  “Argh! Hilda… you're hurting me,” Nate grunted, wincing.

  “Sorry! Sorry!” She immediately let go and recoiled.

  “I'm okay, Hilda. Don't worry,” Nate said softly, rubbing his side.

  She let off a weak smile, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment.

  “Did you find the Deerling?” Hilbert asked, limping slightly.

  “Ummm, yeah. I did.” Her voice trailed off. She held out the Poké Ball still clutched in her hand.

  “You caught it?” Hugh exclaimed. “Well done!”

  “Right…”

  “Hilda, what's the matter?” Nate asked, stepping closer.

  She ran through the memory. The look in the Deerling’s eyes. The leap into the void. It was haunting.

  “I think something is wrong with this Deerling,” she said quietly.

  “Well, obviously. It has a big gash in its head,” Hilbert said, confused.

  “No, Hilbert. I don't mean that!” Her eyes darted to the side, unable to meet theirs. “Something happened to it. Something terrible that made it afraid of people.”

  “What do you mean?” Hugh pressed. His voice was firm but gentle.

  “I had it trapped. Between Tepig and me and that cliff.” She pointed vaguely toward the drop-off. “I tried to plead with it to come over. I wanted to help it, but…”

  Her voice cracked. Her throat went dry, and the tears she had been holding back finally blurred her vision. She collapsed to the ground, legs giving out, and covered her face with her palms.

  “Hey, Hilda, it's okay,” Hilbert was there instantly, crouching beside her, an arm around her shoulder.

  God, I must look like a lunatic.

  “It ran to the cliff,” she whimpered into her hands. “It wanted to jump. It looked at me with more than just fear. It was terrified. Like I was going to torture it. I've never seen a Pokémon look at me like that.”

  “But you caught it?” Hugh asked gently.

  Hilda nodded. Her palms leaving her face. “I threw the ball without thinking. It got captured... right as it jumped.”

  Hilbert helped Hilda to her feet. She was trembling. “It's alright. It's safe now.”

  “I think it's time we head back,” Nate said, breaking the somber silence.

  “Agreed. Hilda, are you going to be alright?” Hugh asked.

  Hilda nodded, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, I'm good.”

  She lied. She felt a hole in her heart. What sort of evil would traumatize an innocent Pokémon so deeply that it viewed death as a mercy? Her whole world was shaking. She placed the Deerling's Poké Ball deep in her bag, burying it under her supplies, desperate to get it out of her sight.