"Chomp, chomp~"
"So? Pretty good, right? My Poké Puffs don't disappoint!"
"Chomp, chomp… gulp~"
"Rawr~ (It's delicious! More, more!)"
The camera pulled back to reveal two figures — one large, one small — sitting close together at the base of a rocky cliff.
David was perched casually on a flat boulder, one leg crossed over the other. Beside him, a Pokémon crouched low to the ground, its wide jaw working steadily.
It had a blue, stocky body, two short arms, a thick skull, and rows of sharp teeth that gleamed in the open air. It was a Bagon — the first stage in the evolutionary line that would one day become the fearsome Dragon-type powerhouse, Salamence.
David had produced a container of Poké Puffs seemingly from nowhere and was feeding them to the Bagon one by one.
His Pokémon had always loved the meals he prepared himself. There was something special about the food David made — something that went beyond ordinary cooking. But as his team had grown larger and stronger over the months, even his best efforts in the kitchen were starting to fall short.
The energy packed into a homemade meal, no matter how carefully prepared, simply wasn't enough anymore to fully restore his Pokémon after hard training. And on some days, cooking alone could take hours he didn't have.
So, during his first semester of senior year, David had thrown himself into studying nutrition and Pokémon biology. He began developing his own Poké Puffs — dense, compact, and packed with enough energy to satisfy even a Pokémon several times stronger than average. He had brought a generous supply for this trip, though he hadn't expected to be sharing them quite so soon.
He tossed one gently into the air. The Bagon snapped its jaws shut around it instantly, swallowing the treat in a single motion with a satisfied rumble.
It looked like a charming moment. But anyone paying close attention would have noticed something unusual about this particular Bagon.
According to the Pokédex, a standard Bagon stood at roughly 0.6 meters tall. David knew from experience that Pokédex measurements weren't always perfectly accurate in the real world — Pokémon often varied a bit in size, and a Bagon might realistically stand closer to a meter in height.
But the Bagon in front of him was something else entirely.
Even sitting down, it was clearly taller than one meter. If it were to stand upright, David estimated it would clear two meters without any trouble. It was massive — not fat, but thick with dense, heavy muscle.
In fact, between the two of them, it was the Bagon that was large, and David who looked small by comparison.
"So you've been here on your own, practicing flying?" David asked, glancing around at the battered landscape surrounding them.
He had been puzzling over the state of the area since he arrived. The ground was cratered and uneven, stones were cracked and split, and rock fragments lay scattered in every direction as if something had been hurling itself at the earth repeatedly.
Now, looking at the Bagon, the answer was obvious.
Bagon were solitary Pokémon by nature. They didn't form groups or seek out companions. What they did, day after day, was leap from cliffs and high ledges in an effort to fly — driven by a deep, instinctive longing to soar through the sky. Each failed attempt only made them push harder. Over time, the constant impacts hardened their skulls until they could shatter solid rock with a single Headbutt.
The devastation at the base of this cliff was the work of the Bagon sitting right in front of him.
David watched it quietly and thought.
It was often said that Bagon, despite their small size, were composed almost entirely of lean, hardened muscle as a result of their relentless training regimen. That description fit an average Bagon reasonably well.
For the one sitting before David now, however, "all muscle" felt like an understatement.
"Rawr~"
The Bagon gave a slow nod, then pointed at its own mouth with one of its stubby arms — a clear signal to keep the Poké Puffs coming.
David let out a small laugh and shook his head. He grabbed another handful and tossed them over.
"Out of curiosity," he said, "how long have you been here? Bagon don't usually live in this area. You came for the Dragon Festival, didn't you?"
He gestured at the wreckage around them. "And how many times did you practice before the place ended up looking like this?"
The Bagon blinked, chewing slowly. It seemed to genuinely consider the question. After a moment, it replied.
"Rawr… rawr~ (I don't really know… I got here yesterday, and aside from resting, I've just been at it the whole time. Chomp, chomp… gulp~)"
David stared at it.
It had done all of this in a single day.
"Rawr… (Dragon Festival? I'm not sure what that is. My elders told me to come here — said it was a chance to find a Trainer I felt right about. If I found one… I could leave this place and finally take on the real sky.)"
Something shifted in David's expression.
He had a feeling he'd just stumbled onto something rare.
Bagon trained hard — that much was simply in their nature. The desire to fly pushed every one of them to keep going, day after day. But even by that standard, what this Bagon had done in less than twenty-four hours was something else. The raw talent was obvious. What was rarer was the drive behind it.
Talent and work ethic — together, in one Pokémon.
"What do you say, Bagon?" David asked, leaning forward slightly. "I'm a Trainer here for the Dragon Festival too. Would you consider traveling with me?"
He didn't overthink it. If he let this moment pass, he'd spend a long time wondering what might have been.
"Rawr~ (You?)"
The Bagon turned and looked at him — really looked at him. The human was small, but there was something about him, a kind of presence, that the Bagon found easy to be around. That was the only reason it had let this stranger sit so close in the first place. Under any other circumstances, it would never have allowed someone it just met to get within arm's reach.
And the human fed it good food, which helped.
Still, this wasn't a decision to make lightly. The elders had been clear about that. Choosing a Trainer was a lifelong commitment. It wasn't something to rush into just because someone had a warm presence and tasty Poké Puffs.
The Bagon sat with the thought for a moment. Then it made up its mind — not to say yes, but to give David a chance to prove himself.
"Rawr~"
"You want me to show you what I can do first — is that it?"
"Rawr~"
The Bagon nodded firmly. If this human was going to be its partner in conquering the skies, strength wasn't optional.
"Fair enough," David said, and the corner of his mouth curved upward.
Getting to this point already meant something. The Bagon wouldn't have bothered if it didn't already think there was potential here. Now all that was left was to back it up.
"Then let's not waste any time."
"Rawr! Rawr!"