Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Six

All the sounds from the Meadows died as Red walked forward on the path. Despite the fact that it was a bright day, the forest possessed only the hellish half-light of dusk. A crack sounded out, and Red's arms were halfway up to shield his face before he realized he had simply stepped upon a twig. He chuckled nervously under his breath and, remembering his pokémon, took Nyoromo from his bag. He studied the creature a moment, surprised again at its diminutive proportions. He could support its weight easily in one hand, and it was smaller than his head. He sighed, and set it on the ground to walk beside him. It began to waddle after him at a painstakingly slow pace- one that could mean death in the Forest. Red sighed. He didn't want to carry the pokémon, so he tried to set it on his shoulder. Nyoromo gurgled in joy at his ascension for but a moment before it pitched backwards into Red's disappointed, but waiting hand. He was nearly resigned to holding it with his hand when one last hope struck him. He lifted Nyoromo and placed him upon his head. It was cold. It was unpleasant. But the pokémon wrapped his tail around the back of Red's head, and managed to stay balanced.
So it was with an oozing cold blob upon his head, that Red ventured along the path. The twilight was oppressive, and it seemed to Red that it pulled the breath from his body. He found himself panting, though it took little effort to walk on the path. As he walked, the path began to die. Within ten minutes, it was so thin and bramble-strewn that he could barely see it. Within his first half hour in the forest, it was gone. He frequently checked his compass to ensure he knew the way back. His compass was, itself, an interesting object. It was shaped like half a sphere, with the glass on the flat surface. Beneath it was a needle that pointed north, and below it was a matrix of high technology. None of it functioned, but Red always enjoyed looking at the shards of times long passed. He had once heard that the compasses, his white semisphere included, were once a key part of the taming and training of pokémon. Now, though, the system had crumbled, and the thousands that had once been stored became useless. The shells were cannibalized to make something that could help.
He was so distracted, he didn't hear the rustling in the nearby bush.