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Typhlosion waited for Shela to take action first and once she did, he sped off to the nearest grunt and tackled him with great force. He quickly punched two grunts in the stomach knocking the air out of them along with their consciousness.

Soon enough Pokemon were starting to be sent out from the grunts that were able to react quick enough. A Golbat hit Typhlosion’s side with great force but it did not knock him down. Typhlosion looked over at the bat with angered eyes. He grabbed the Pokemon by it’s wings and swung it to another Golbat that was close to hitting Shela.

Typhlosion ran up to the ton of meat they already had to cook and looked around for something to carry them in. A waved his arms at Shela to get her attention. "Ba! Baku!" he yelled out while jumping up and down.

As Typhlosion followed them he quickly stopped and looked back. Something caught his eye but he saw nothing. He looked in the same direction for sometime before running off to follow Shela.

There was no response from Rojo. It was as if he was dead. He held the slab of meat in his hands but did not react to it at all. His head was slumped down and some of his hair was covering his eyes. He then fell on his side and was in fact sound asleep.

Rojo was still sound asleep the next morning. He was hugging onto Shela as if she was a doll or something he did not want to let go. He felt Shela move around in her sleep and he m muttered the words “Don’t go. Don’t go.” He shivered somewhat from the dream he was having.

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“Mommy! Don’t go!” a five year old Rojo said as he stood by his mother’s death bed. “Please don’t!” Tears flowed down Rojo’s cheeks as a Cyndaquil came up and wiped his tears away. The very same Cyndaquil that was the Typhlosion Shela knew. Scarlett looked over at her son and she ruffled his hair weakly with her hand. “Be strong my boy. Always remember…. I love you.” Her hand fell to a limp and there was a long steady beep from the heart monitor.

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Outside of his dream Rojo was shedding a waterfall of tears holding onto Shela and not letting go. "Don't go." he whispered.

He was to into the dream to be woken up so easily. He shivered and hugged onto Shela slightly tighter.

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As five year old Rojo sat at his mother’s death bed a doctor came in and pulled the blanket over her face. The only thing sticking out was her hand that she used to ruffle Rojo’s hair. Rojo held onto it tightly with no intention of letting go. The doctor decided to leave him be and left the room with dimmed lights. Seconds later, Cheryl, seventeen years old at the time, put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. He looked up at her and she pulled a seat up to sit next to him. They both held onto their mother’s exposed hand, along with the siblings holding onto each other’s hands. They were now alone in the world. With no family except each other they wandered through the empty world, hand in hand.
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Outside Rojo was still hugging onto Shela. He scooted closer to her thinking that she was Cheryl. He murmured something inaudible.

Rojo tightened his eyelids and then suddenly opened the,. He blinked a few times to see Shela's face was decently close to his. He looked at his arm that was hugging her. "Shela!" he said quickly sitting up. "S-Sorry about that. I uh.... didn't meant to.... do whatever I did." He turned his body around to face her. "What did I do?" he asked.