Never when the sun set has sid seen better. A mudled mix of fear, excitement, love and lust raced through his veins, and in similar fashion he raced along side his comrades, all for the hunt. He had been waiting for years to sink his teeth into fresh, breathing prey. Sid was a houndour of modest build and vicious nature, the rib like bands on his back, ankles and the skull shaped one on his head a deep red. Everyone in the pack knew of the blood red puppy, playing with the other pups to practice for their first hunt usually resulted in a severe wound or loss of enthusiasm for rival pups. All houndour puppies awaited the day of their rights of passage and sid was no different. You see, ever since sid hatched from his hard shelled confines all he could think of was the pride and pleasure in taking down a pokemon three or four times his size by himself. No one could blame Nature or nurture for sids penchant for violence but the elders cared not, Sid would assure that their pack would eat well, hunt effectively and inspire all houndour that heard his story, he was their golden boy. Like the mythed ninetale hunting circle, he would be infamous but unlike the hunting circle they will have seen his mastery of the hunt. But so as not to show favoitism he had to go through the rites like everyone else.
The lead houndoom prompted sid to flank the terrified ponyta. Sid begrudgingly listened, knowing he could easily command the team, he took orders from his superior. Brief separation calmed sids nerves and gave him a chance to think. The first hunt was always a ponyta, modest speed and decent fight made it the perfect first victim for anxious young houndoom, but sid knew he was better. He would lead the pack one day and his first hunt would be a story generations after him would tell. Sid had a duty to make a legend of himself and this night was to be a legends birth. Then and there sid chose to disregard his orders and take down the ponyta alone, then return to the pack meal in towe and take the praise that comes with the return of a hero. Sid diverted from his course just long enough to find himself lost in a part of the forest he had never seen before. Though it was the dead of night this portion of the woods was oddly lit with a green tint. Luminescant ledian and vibrant volbeats danced over fallen foliage covered in a glowing moss. Sid was confused and frustrated, if he was lost how would he userp the hunt. What were mere seconds felt like days as sid wandered through a seemingly endless stretch of fallen trees, dirt and grass. The thought of his dream dying was almost enough to bring him to tears until, in the distance he saw an glaring green light brighter than all the other flaring flora and pokemon. This would surely lead him in the right direction so he took chase. Getting closer with every trot the strange light made its form known. A small figure with a large head fluttered gracefully through the air, its color a shiny emerald. Arms the size of its body gestured sid to follow it. Growing ever more confused Sid followed this antenaed sprite. It seemed to want to play and sid took grave offense, did this fairy not know the urgence of his mission. Confusion turned to anger and now sid was poised to attack. He gave chase until his body could not keep up with his will and he collapsed. With a broken spirit he laid there defeated and growing ever more angry. How could he be undone by an emerald pixie? Was this green mirage the ultimate hunt...The unattainable prey falling victim to only the greatest warriors or was he just not as powerful as he liked to have believed. Anger turned to sadness as he had failed his pack, his ideals, and his aspirations. Sadness turned to fear as he was exposed without ally, weapon or strength to save him. He crawled his way to a makeshift shelter. An obelisk of sorts gave him protection and time. He lay his head on the smooth rock covered in moss and thought of his fate. Will he be like this rock, sedentary and useless. Taking up space in a place that doesnt need him, where not even the hand of disaster will touch him. Then it occured to him, if this rock was in a forest unexposed to the elements of weathering, it being smooth means that there was no way it was here naturally. Sid glared upward at his stone savior and saw the statue of a god . An off white figure stood well over 10 feet tall. Covered in moss and posed like it was performing a monumentus task, sid pondered. This was the visage of power, a testament to the raw strength one could attain. Gems of crimson, teel and silver adorned this hardened hero of white black and gold. He didnt see a head causing sid to believe this creature needed not thought processes only to fight. Black manacles turned gray, encompassed the beings limbs, and even those dare not hold him, they lay strewn across his form, broken. Who was this deity and how was he defeated? Was this the fate that awaited his power? To fall like the ponyta of the hunt, was that all he could hope for. To be be a legend of his time and be forgotten soon after like his stone titan. Fear gave way to depression and sid lay there for days, the illusion of long spats of time no longer present, indeed he was there for days.
When his energy returned he was a broken pokemon. His viscious nature was now docile and passive. All attempts to be great will fall victem to time and be forgotten. Sid lazed back to the den of his pack, the hunt surely over by now. In his long walk home a familiar smell found its way to his nostrils. Bloodlust excited his synapses yet again, it was a symphony of smell. The wonderful aroma of adrenaline, sweat, saliva, breath and trounced earth that was the hunt. He picked up his pace and came upon 4 ninetales in the middle of their hunting rituals. Two of the golden assassins took chase in the trees, leaping effortlessly from branch to branch. The other Two were found trailing five feet behind on either side of their three headed bounty. Sid sensed there was another giving chase but he scoured the area and saw nothing. They all bounded past him and out of curiosity and hunger, Sid followed. The ninetales in the trees jumped down out of hiding to trap the speedy bird. Knowing it could no longer run the long beaked prey prepared to fight but with blazing speed and deadly accuracy a silver ninetales swiftly ended the birds life...it didn't make a sound. A dodrio lay bloody and lifeless on the ground, its murderers circled around the body eyes closed and heads bowed as if they were praying over their soon to be meal, a procces all knew but no one had seen. They were uniform in in their grace and beautiful in their skill, and sid saw now that this ritual was rare. A true privalege that let him know that legend can exist outside of time and find home in its imitation, also that "one" cannot be legend but that several must write their names in the annels of history. sid couldnt shamefully show his face at the den so he swore the next time they saw him he would already be infamous, A fearless staple in his own pack, a legend worthy of replication. His blood boiling and his vigor strong he wasted neither time nor energy. He leapt from the shadows to go find his perfect pack.