A TREECKO NAMED DESIRE [storm]

Treecko felt the breeze ruffle her thin hair. The waves lapped against her legs, gentle yet insistent.

She opened her eyes.

Where was everyone?

Wasn't it moments ago she was agreeing to fight a swarm of Totodiles in the canopy? A stone's throw from where she was raised by her Mummo and Daddo?

And where was Kath Ulu, the trainer who assured her that fighting a swarm of baby pokemon was ethical?

Nowhere to be found. Treecko was alone. She looked down - and there it was. A sheet of paper with FREE TREECKO etched onto it in pen.

Abandoned. After taking injury, no less. The High Tide Shrine... Treecko understood it as a place of healing. But... where was it?

Treecko looked up at the high tide shrine, far away in the distance of what the trainer's called Base Camp.

Rain hit her face.

"What?" She looked up. A storm was brewing, and deep inside her a primal urge to run brewed with it.

"Crater's that way, baby," came a somewhat familiar voice.

Treecko looked behind her to see Grookey, smugly pointing toward the islands volcano. "You," she said accusingly. "You and your owner are jerks."

"Yeah. Jerks who are single-handedly saving the island," Grookey said with unearned confidence, "with admittedly a lot of help. We're saving everyone by boosing the Crater's defenses and undermining everyone elses."

"The crater?" Treecko rubbed her head. The tide hadn't done her any good. She looked back up to the high tide shrine. So far away. "What about the canopy?"

"Canopy's done for, baby. So's the coastline, although there's still a tonne of people holding out hope for it," he said with a 'how-about-that' smirk.

"Done for?" Treecko rushed over to Grookey and grabbed him by the shoulders. "The canopy's my HOME you damn, dirty ape!"

"WHOA," Grookey said, fairly, "First of all, you're a gecko. Second of all, the canopy's my home too! I have every right to declare it lost, however prematurely!"

"We can't just abandon it!"

"What's it ever done for me!?"

"Yeah, good point - if it produces pokemon like you," Treecko snarled, "it's good for nothing."

Grookey frowned. "That doesn't sound right," he said.

"But did produce you, didn't it? Your parents lived there?"

Grookey nodded slowly. "My Mummey and my Daddey," he agreed.

"And you're fine with abandoning them, too?"

Grookey went quiet. His eyes shot back to his dumb sign and his dumb tea.

"Kath said-"

"Kath's crazy, pal. She captured you, she captured the Bulbasaur, and she captured me. What did you end up doing to those Totodiles?"

"...we captured one," Grookey said, staring at his feet.

"Yeah. At what cost. And now, what? You're fine just abandoning the canopy, for her? For the same person who was fine with ripping through its inhabitants for COLLECTABLES?"

"Collectables are fun," Grookey said, but who was he trying to convince?

"Come on, Grookey. Don't you want to try to save it?"

Grookey offered a nod. It was slight, barely perceptible, but it was there.

"Good," Treecko said. She extended a suctiony hand, and Grookey shook it. "First thing we need to do is save the coastline."

"WHAT?!"