poltergeists
Growlithe has dragged him so far all over the city that Green has been half-tempted to return him to his Pokeball. It was his own fault, though--he didn’t know much about this place, and it wasn’t as though he could trust the people around him to give him reliable information. What he’d heard so far was just...too much, mostly. It was hard to believe, even if he was slowly coming to the conclusion that he’d have to. It did align with what few trainers he’d met told him for the most part, but Green by nature was a skeptic. He didn’t believe what he didn’t see for himself. Today, Growlithe seems particularly enthusiastic about whatever scent has caught his attention. Green follows with some difficulty, lips pursed with unspoken orders to stop. He wouldn’t stop the Pokemon though, not when it’s one of the few joys he has here. And like every other time, the wet nose glued to the ground leads straight to some stranger. Green immediately picks Growlithe up before he can cause too much of a ruckus, but he does take the time to examine just who it is that-- Wait. Was that a...Pikachu? Green’s stomach churns and he doesn’t want to admit why. It’s just another trainer, and he doesn’t look all that tough. It takes every fiber of his being not to turn and leave.
“Looks like Pokemon can’t help but find each other--” he scratches his head awkwardly, snorting as his gaze flits to the side.