I pad down the rugged path, higher into the mountains. My claws are red with blood. Not my blood. Not their blood. No one's blood. And yet they are red. Stained red...
Red with the blood of one of the forsakened.
I am called Disaster. Doom, maybe, or Doombringer, whatever's in season. All names of the humans.
I have never had my own name. They killed my parents.
The Disaster Pokemon. I predict them. I try to warn humans. But they think I bring disaster. Perhaps I should abandon my duty...
Mountains. Rising tall, touching the sky. Cold, and uncomftorable. But until the day I finally gain trust, they are my home.
Why me?
Why me, of all the Dark-types?
Why am I the Disaster Pokemon?