Disclaimer: I do not now, never had, and never will own pokemon (unless by some miraculous act of God coincidence I inherit the company).
The metapod were evolving. The evening air stilled around the forest, and not a creature made a sound, nor did the wind blow, all were silent for what was to come. A bright light then exploded from the dark stillness as if a million golden suns had shot out simultaneously, almost as if a new dawn were arising as the forest was transformed into a realm of majesty. One by one the newly evolved butterfree emerged from their former shells and lifted into the heavens, wings shimmering in the pale moonlight and scattered small stun spore particles into the dark like fairy dust. Delighted with their new mobility as opposed to their former weak small caterpie and old stiff metapod forms the pokemon soared into the night climbing higher, higher, higher until they could climb no more and soared in the twilight air twirling around each other celebrating the evolution. The treetops were now alive with the ecstatic cries of the butterfree's joy and passion and upon hearing this chorus many other pokemon, some of which would normally never be out in the dark, emerged from their homes, woke from sleep, and paused in the hunt to watch the celebration. Even the snorlax that lived in the thicket two miles away woke to watch- and eat of course.
I sat atop the tall rocks outside my den getting a perfect view of the whole thing, quietly taking in the splendor and beauty of what was happening. Now this- this was the night at it's fullest. Not too far off from my perch I could see others who watch the mass evolution and my fur bristled with annoyance.
Humans, four of them all sitting in on a big flat rock in a clearing eyes on the sky. I growled softly at the very thought of them interrupting such a sacred sight. To tell the truth if there were just ordinary run-of-the-mill humans I wouldn't have minded, but no these were trainers. Trainers with empty pokeballs in their belts which no doubt meant that they had come to catch them selves a nice fresh butterfree. My quiet growl grew louder. They had no right to be here. This was our home, my home and they show no respect at all. Instead observing the ritual peacefully and respectfully they pointed and shouted obnoxiously. Except for a girl whose hand went straight for her ball ready for a catch. My ears lowered in anxiety, for I knew well what was coming. I'd seen it many times before. Sure enough, a few of the butterfree glided down o test it's agility though the trees a pokeball was thrown and a tired, but fierce looking spearow was released. The flying type flew straight up into the air gaining more and more height until it finally dive-bombed and struck down the butterfree with a single wing attack. My stomach churned. The bug pokemon fell swiftly to the earth and lay there, defeated and in pain. A pokeball was thrown into the air, came down and shifted one, two, three times and the poor butterfree was free no more. Below the spearow was recalled and the trainer's friends warmly congratulated him.
I on the other hand felt sick. Desperately sick. I looked again to the night sky where the remaining newly evolved fluttered in the moonlight. It just wasn't right. For a pokemon to wait so, so long, dream so many nights, and hope for what seems like ages for the final day when they banish their old small and meek forms for a new ones beautiful big, strong, powerful a and free then almost in an instant to have all that freedom longed for snatched away from you…it..it just wasn't right. 'Why?' I thought 'Why on tonight of all nights to interrupt such a beautiful ceremony? Could they not see that this was a rare and sacred thing? Could they not hear the unfortunate captor's voice ring with the joy of true freedom and joy only to turn to a cry of terror, sadness and pain? Have any of them ever even once tried to consider the possibility that we had lives, hopes, dreams, family, and friends of our own? My ribs shuddered with a saddened sigh. No. no, they couldn't. And if by some gift of Celebi they did then they simply did not care.
Above some of what I guessed where the aught butterfree's companions noticed their friend was gone and were desperately worried crying out his name heart-tearing desperation with every call as they fluttered franticly in the first wondering where their friend had disappeared to. Finally a weedle called out and must have told them the unfortunate news for the search arty sadly drifted back into the sky. Their once jovial voices now heavy with grief that their friend would not be coming back.
I sat staring at them sympathetically as they hovered there heartbroken, then miserable followed their fellow butterfree over the horizon. The humans had gone inside their sleeping bags, the pokemon returned to their normal habits..and the snorlax ate some more and went back to sleep. My rings glowed quietly as I made my way into the forest for my evening meal, my mind still on the image of that poor butterfree and it's cries of anguish. Again, as I had so many times swore that such a fate would not befall this umbreon. "No" I whispered to the twilight stars "Not me. Never. Not me."