But with despairing thoughts racing through his head and stinging his eyes, he could hardly keep his mind on the chase. The scraggly branches caught on his maroon cloak and grabbed desperately at his blue fur. The world deserved to rot.Ĭatrin raced through the bushes like a scorbunny. But it hardly deserved even the smallest kindness. It was a world that desperately needed hope, salvation, a sun to light the bleak, murky sky slowly suffocating it from above. No drunken fool could convince Catrin that this world was anything more than a cesspool, a still-watered pond choked with algae and garbage at the end of a muddy stream. If any pokemon ever tried to tell Catrin that the world in its current state was somehow salvageable, somehow well-intentioned, somehow not a complete affront to the gods above, he would sneer at them.
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