The night of the Festival of Striaton, I kept tossing around and around in my bed, feeling homesick. I wanted to see my brothers so badly, that I almost cried their names out sometimes. I reached for my pokeball, the one with the word "partner" engraved on it. For my seventh birthday after our parents left for a different region, we found 3 little monkies at our door step. Our names were taped to one of them. I remember seeing Chili, the youngest, jumping for joy when he picked up the furry little Pansear. Cress smiled at the Panpour that held out a card saying Happy Birthday. The little one that had my name on it, was a little scared at first. His eyes were widened. Everytime I tried to pick him up, he just dodged my hand. The one time I touched him, his fur was as sleek and smooth as my bed covers.
When it was lunch time, my pokemon, which I found out was a Pansage just stood on the top rail of the stairs leading up into the storage room. I went to run over to him, but he looked at me and jumped to the other rail. He shot bulletseed at my face. It hit me in my bad ear, and I passed out.