The large animal slowly trudged through marshy grass, ignoring the unpleasant stickiness of mud and pebbles that was streaked through his brown fur. A small nose sniffed at the air, and he paused with one foreleg still raised; what was that scent? It was strange, a smell that didn't belong. He glanced at the ground and scowled with his massive front teeth.
The border.
A line of cracked earth, how far down it went, no pokémon knew. It was marked with all kinds of scents and clawing of tree bark, the ultimate edge of the territory. All wild creatures knew this. Even the stupider ones, the non-pokémon animals that were good for nothing but meat.
Then why was something moving on this side of the border?
The raticate shrank into the bushes and watched with the stillness that only a rodent could emulate. The shadow moved along the border slowly, snuffling through thick leaves and moaning unhappily at the warmer temperature as the sun broke through the great trees of Manistorhumi.
As it moved into view, the raticate realized what it was; one of the creatures from an opposite piece of land, one that preferred snow and ice to the humid forests that would be found here. It was in another territory. One that did not belong here. An enemy.
The warrior raticate hissed a warning and stood fearlessly.
The creature hesitated at the sight of an enemy, but raised its leafy arms defiantly and growled back. A raticate was not such a great enemy. Unfortunately for the snover, this raticate was a trained fighter. It lunged with incredible speed and bit straight through the snowy tree's neck, breaking its spinal column easily. The dead pokémon slumped to the ground, bleeding a clear and blue-tinted liquid that froze the grass.
The raticate looked over at the other territory. More would come here, partly to clear away the body, but also to take revenge on an imagined crime. He seized the body with his huge teeth and dragged it down the path, ignoring a painfully chilling sensation in his teeth.