I remember a trainer from my younger, competitive days. Of course, saying just 'a trainer' could mean any of the countless ones from that time. But if I were to label him as any specifict type, just a 'flying specialist' doesn't quite seem enough. I was intrigued by him, and of course, we became friends... But he was always antsy, never wanting to stay on the ground. He always felt his best up with his pokemon, in their domain.

After spending a day with him up there, seeing how much brighter his smile was as he sat on the back of his Pidgeot; absently running his fingers through the plumage on the crown of the bird's head, I understood why his eyes only ever saw the sky. Birds are faithful, loving souls. They don't judge, and they don't presume. Things with them are black and white. Thats what he needed, I think. Someone to care for him just because they saw the good, and not the bad.

As my Dragonite and I came back down to the ground, it seemed a little more lonely than usual.