All You Need is a Little [Training]

[Morse]

Ventus. The word floated into Morse’s mind as easily as he had floated to the town. Morse smiled at the possibility of the
word. He’d travelled mile after mile north to the great town of Ventus, and now
his goal had been accomplished. It had taken him a year of his life and nearly bankrupt
him, but he had made it. Eli smiled at his memories. He’d travelled with a
group of trainers for a good portion of the journey, and they were raucous
trainers at that. Morse quietly reminded himself to find more trainers of the
same cloth.

He was on the outskirts of the town, looking in at the simple short
buildings. It was a Sunday and mid-morning. The streets were nearly empty as
all lounged about in their own homes soaking in the radiance of family and
friends and rest from work. Morse ran his fingers over the Pokeball in his
pocket, knowing he would have none of that today. He took out the ball and
lightly hit a button, expanding the Pokeball greatly. He hit another button and
there was a brilliant flash of red light. Morse found himself wincing, still
unaccustomed to the harshness of the light a Pokeball emitted when releasing a
Pokemon. The red light cleared quickly and standing before Morse was a tiny
metal Pokemon. The Aron looked back at Morse, saying nothing. “Angel,”
Morse started, breaking the restrained silence that had enveloped Pokemon and master,
“It’s time to start training.” There was another silence as the Aron stared at
Morse, sizing him up. Then the Pokemon turned, seeming to giggle at the
ridiculousness of such a statement.

Angel had never worked a day in his life,
no new trainer who doesn’t know his Tackle from a Take Down would change that.
The Aron sauntered through the town, admiring the mason work of the village
houses and ignoring the infuriated trainer who stood shocked behind him. That
was when Angel felt a sharp pain in his rear. He let out a little yelp of
surprise and pain and the swift kick he’d received from his trainer. The Aron
turned to face him, growling angrily. “Did you feel that, Angel?” Morse said
confidently, chiding his Pokemon like a schoolmaster does a child. “That was a
fighting move. You’re so vulnerable to them, you faint if a Machop even looks
at you funny.” The Aron grew angrier, angry at being humiliated, angry about
being kicked, but mostly angry because his trainer was right. He wasn’t at his
peak. In fact, he wasn’t even at an upwards trend. He’d been so self-centered
and lazy; he was on the bottom of the totem pole. No more. Angel needed to be
at the top. He belonged at the top. He wouldn’t let anything get in his way,
including this know-nothing trainer. “Alright, Angel. Let’s train.”

Morse had Angel running sprints, trying to counter Angel's despicable lack of speed. He breathed freely, happy to have an obedient, if not happy, Pokemon. Morse had known that motivating the tiny Pokemon would be difficult, but he did not realize how stubborn it was. The only thing that seemed to affect it was an attack on its pride. Morse knew that would do for now, but he would need to try and help the Pokemon become more humble. But that was an issue for another day. Today's issue was Angel was faster sinking in water than he was running full speed. Morse ran his fingers through his hair while Angel sprinted back and forth. After a few minutes, he had crafted their routine for the day.

First, Morse had Angel continue sprints. Angel hated every moment of it, but he bore through it because he knew he would be better because of it. But Morse finished that early and found an exuberant Aron because of it. After that, it was Harden attack after Harden attack. Morse seemed to have the idea in his mind that if he hardened enough, the defense increase would become permanent. Angel complained, so Morse added another component. If Angel's defense was so high that Morse could kick him without him budging, he could take a break. After four failed attempts, Morse was left with an injured toe and Angel left with a content smile after the fifth try. Angel took a little break, and when training resumed Morse had devised an even more hellish torment for him to bear. Angel would run a lap around the block and tackle a wall three times for every time Angel was hit by a rock thrown by Morse who was a good distance away. Angel hated the double abuse, but it sure made him determined to never get hit by an attack.

But eventually Angel tired of this and fell down next to his trainer. Morse patted his Pokemon, who was too exhausted to protest. After this, Morse thought, petting his Aron, We're a stronger team. Not just physically, but I think he likes me more. Angel stood and put a few feet between himself and his trainer, seemingly just to spite him. Morse sighed. This was sure to be a long journey. He just hoped he would come out alive.

[872 Words, +1 Level for Angel]

[Luna]

Approved.