The sun was barely starting to peek over the treetops as Garron set foot in Littleroot Town. He gazed out over the sleepy little town, unimpressed with what he saw.
"What do you think, girl?"
The abnormally small Houndour at his side peered about and looked equally bored.
"This is where Team Magma's headquarters is supposed to be? It looks like it would be a town filled with grandpas, not criminals," she snorted.
"Maybe that's the point."
"Remind me why we're doing this again? The whole joining a criminal empire thing?"
Garron sighed and tilted his head back, eyes closed. It was a habit he had picked up from his dad when he was small, and his father's death certainly hadn't broken it.
"You know why Raya," he whispered.
"Remind me anyway, since we both know you don't want to do this. You're too...good."
Garron sighed again and looked down at his companion, a single lock of brown hair falling into his face, which he irritably brushed back.
"Grandaddy's retirement fund isn't enough. He can't feed us all and keep the house. And there's nothing that pays enough nearby to help. I have to do this."
"Becoming a trainer legally isn't enough?" the Houndour pressed. Garron's eyes narrowed.
"The League charges more each year to be registered, and I keep making less. There's no way I can afford it. They wouldn't take me anyway. I have you, before being registered. That's illegal unless you have a registered trainer as a guardian. Grandaddy never was and Pa..." A pained look crossed Garron's face, his brown eyes sharpening. "Pa's not around anymore." Raya looked away, feeling guilty.
"Sorry for ruining any hope of being a trainer..."
Garron shook his head, cutting her off. "You would've died if I hadn't saved you."
Less than a year before, Garron had found the small pup floundering in the lake by his grandaddy's home. He had a single Pokeball he always carried with him. It had been a parting gift from his father, who had promised to help him become a registered trainer and catch his first Pokémon when he came home from work. He never did. Garron had carried that Pokéball around ever since, simply as a memento of his father, knowing he couldn't use it without being registered. But faced with watching a young Houndour drown, or becoming a felon...Garron chose felony.
He broke the awkward silence with a grin and scratched Raya's ears. "I guess you're worth it though," he teased. Raya smirked a little and was about to reply when she caught sight of an older man creeping out of his house and heading to the opposite side of town, just this side of Route 101. Garron patted her head, signaling that he saw it as well, and the two followed the man slowly.
"Well well, new faces in town! Awful early for you to be up and about!" The old man chirped brightly as they approached.
"A bit," Garron agreed. "Tell me, do you know what this is?" He held out a scrap of red material with a black M sewn crudely onto it. It had come from a Team Magma grunt Garron had quite literally run into as she ran away from a store she had just robbed. Hidden safely in the alley where she had collided with Garron, at his insistence she had handed him the token and instructed him to meet the early bird in Littleroot Town.
The old man's eyes turned beady and sharp at the sight of the fabric. "Where did you get that, boy?" he snarled, swiping at it. Garron jerked it away as Raya stepped between the two, teeth bared.
"You can probably guess. And you know what it means." Garron really hoped the man did, because in all honesty, he didn't. All he had were some vague instructions from a rather hurried grunt, and the possibility of getting killed where he stood. Not exactly much to go on.
The old man eyed the two suspiciously. "You sure you're up for this? Team Magma's the real deal. This is no place for a boy and his lapdog." Raya snarled indignantly and Garron grabbed the scruff of her neck to keep from ripping the old man in two.
"I'm not here to play games," Garron snapped. The old man shrugged and turned toward Route 101, stepping out confidently.
"Keep up then!"