I tense, staring at the foe before me, its snow white fur coaxing me to spring into action. But I wait. I can’t move – no, won’t move. Not without an order. My golden yellow eyes quickly glance over to me trainer, and I see her crouching just as still as I am, just as anxious as I am, eyes fixed ahead on the majestic but dangerous shape of the dark pokémon. My eyes instantly flick back, and I trace the long, curved black blades protruding from its skull and rear, wondering how my own claws will fare against them. I must be careful, I decide.

“Felix,” my eyes quickly reattach themselves to the shape of my master as she whispers my name just audibly, “You up to a little battle?”

The warrior in my heart fires up, and the leaf extending from my head quivers in excitement as I nod my head. She knows I’m ready, and she smiles. I give a crooked lizard smile back.

“Okay,” she nods, and I wait for my instructions, “Start out by surprising it with pursuit, and before it can recover use a quick attack. After that, improvise. I have faith in you.” I nod, inwardly warm at the subtle compliment. She then adds, “Remember not to overdo it: absols are rare, and could be a good asset to our team.”

I nod my head again, just slightly, in comprehension, and then wait for my cue. Carrie taps me once on the back of my head, and I’m off, disappearing into the shadows and attacking the absol from the opposite side of where I had just been within a manner of seconds. My fellow pokémon skitters backward, its clawed web feet disturbing the plant life under it. The absol’s rub red eyes sharpen almost instantly and latch themselves onto my form, but not fast enough. My figure is blurred once more as I build up my speed and strike the absol from the side. I am smug as my strike hits, but my eyes widen just slightly in surprise as I feel the blade of its tail striking my skin. It is faster and more painful than I had anticipated, I admit, but I don’t let it slow me down. My instincts kick in. The blow hurls me backwards, but I land on my feet, facing the absol.

We are in a stand off, neither daring to move. My mind slowly grasps what this means: this absol wasn’t always wild. She (I have caught a wisp of her scent) knows how to fight. Wild pokémon just attack without thinking about their movements. I also notice the attack she used on me was called quick revenge, an attack only learnable from what I’ve heard Carrie call a TM. My eyes squint slightly. This battle will be more difficult than I had first thought. She doesn’t want to be captured again, and I can tell by her gaze she knows I have a trainer nearby.

Suddenly, she moves. The absol darts backwards, catching me off guard, but I understand when she does the ritualistic dance of swords dance. I anticipate her next move, and when she leaps at me with her claws outstretch I leap out of the way, countering her slash attack with a twirl of my head, the long leaf on it going rigid and sharp in a leaf blade attack, striking her across the neck. I ca tell it is painful as her face scrunches up and she flies in the opposite direction. I feel slight remorse, but land a little ways off, crouching with my front claws on the ground, shoulders hunched up to my head as I wait for one of two things: a response from the absol, or a soaring pokéball.

Turns out, I get both. The absol staggers to her feet, facing me with fury in her blood-red eyes. I stare back coolly, meeting her furious gaze with softness in mine. Her fury is replaced with confusion and curiousity, and before she can think a red and white pokéball taps her on the head. The familiar flash of bright red light envelopes her, and she is sucked inside. I see her struggle for several seconds, unwilling to give in, but eventually they lessen, and the red light on the button dies down.

I know we have won this battle, not only because of me, but because of curiousity as well. I know this absol will have a better owner now, and she will not look back at my sudden attack from the underbrush with spite or anger. My eyes dart to Carrie as she emerges and picks up the ball, holding it admirably in her hand. I hear her speak to it softly – something she always does when a new ally is added to our group:

“Welcome to our team...” she trails off, and I know she is thinking of a name. She smiles before adding one last word, “... Hel.”