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Cynthia shouted Lance’s name as she neared his limp body.
Only minutes before, it was just a friendly battle between their Garchomps, but their spar quickly turned sour when Cynthia’s Pokemon unleashed a nasty physical blow to the other. Lance’s eyes widened as he observed his Garchomp hurling towards him. Sometimes these things happened in the midst of a battle, and most trainers would get out of the way; Lance - however - hesitated. Should he move like a normal person, or stand his ground and prepare for a 600lb wall to strike him?
Deciding to run, Lance dashed out of the way, but his right side was unfortunately caught by the blade of his Pokemon. He was then quickly sent into the ground and consumed by a cloud of dust.
And then all was quiet.
And now here Cynthia was, running to Lance’s aid and screaming his name for the umpteenth time just to get some sort of reaction.
After seconds of terrible worry, Lance started moving, and Cynthia could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Kneeling down, she grasped his arm and started pulling him into a sitting position.
“What hurts? Does anything feel broken?” There was obvious panic in her voice.
Lance grunted as he - with Cynthia’s help - managed to orientate himself on his knees. “Well, my legs aren’t messed up,” he responded, “and my arms are fine. I’ll probably have to go to a doctor to make sure I don’t have a concussion or…something…what’re you looking at, Cynthia?”
Lance - looking deep into the depths of Cynthia’s dark irises - could see that there was a fear dwelling within her. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and she was sweating. What is going on?
He could then feel a dripping sensation on his neck. A small area was wet, and fresh. He continued to look at Cynthia’s awful stare before it finally clicked.
