That night, the three had bid their farewells. Lyra had given Ripley yet another bone-crushing hug (one of these days the poor thing is going to suffocate), while Ethan had scratched at the back of his head, offering his hand to shake, awkwardly. However, the pinkette threw her arms around him in a tight embrace that made him stutter and blush. He pushed her away with a grumble, while she just grinned triumphantly, teasing him how he was still acting like such a kid.

By morning on the next day, Ripley had been all ready to go. Preparations had been made before hand on the previous night once Lyra and Ethan left for their own journey. Thinking about it, she felt a pang in her heart, knowing she was going to miss them dearly. One day, though, they will cross paths again, this time as trainers instead of best friends. This made her smile, anyway.

It was an easier trip down the routes, since by now she has a little part of the map down by memory. Another victory has been made of another wild encounter with a few Rattata, Sentrets, and Pidgey. Geodude pounded her fists together proudly, Spearow had showed off her agility, and Chikorita chirped in approval. Ripley smiled, filled with confidence. It made battles much more easier now Chikorita could use reflect, there were lesser chances of any critical hits from damaging her other two pokemon. Ripley was almost astounded of how much stronger they have grown. They're almost at equal strength to her starter.

The team finally hit that little fork in the road, where one way was divided to lead to Mr. Pokemon's house, and the other continuing forward to route 31. Once there, they will be able to make it to their first destination: Violet City. Ripley ran her fingers through messy bobbed, pink locks, her grin only growing wider. She could hardly contain her excitement now, gazing behind her to look at her team, who stared back with just as much determination and enthusiasm.

"Alright," she exclaimed, clapping her hands together; "Let's get going, then. We have just a little further to go before our first Pokemon Gym." Her Spearow fluttered up high enough in the air just to land on top of her trainer's head as her own personal perch, making herself comfortable. Once relaxed, she sang a little tune, agreeing. Ripley nodded.

A mile out, and the attention of the group had fallen to the frustrated cries of a young boy about half of Ripley's age. Her eyebrows knitted together. She approached him, Geodude and Chikorita following close behind. Spearow eyed him carefully. As they got closer, the expression on the boy's face made it appear like he was pouting, arms and legs crossed as he remained sulking on the grass like a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

"Hey, kid," she said. His head had snapped up, focus on Ripley as his eyes widened. They boy's face heated up drastically, being caught in such a state. She didn't seem to notice.

"You okay?," she pressed; "Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

He shook his head furiously.

"Did you get robbed?"

He shook his head again, "N-no!"

"Then what is it?"

He wiped his eyes, sniffling a little, "I just lost a pokemon battle." Ripley pursed her lips.

Really? Was that it? This made her roll her eyes. This was ridiculous. All this for a loss? When was the last time that this happened? It's been a while. If her memory served correct, she remembered defeating a boy around the same age with her Squirtle back in Kanto, who acted the exact same way. This was always a questionable subject that she could never just find the answer for. Why did boys always make a big deal out of their losses? Even playing a Pokemon card game Ethan had always made a fuss when they were children. Come to think of it. He did that even now. Ripley took a deep breath, attempting at patience.

"Well," she began: "It isn't the end of the world. You can always try again. What I suggest is that you should probably start with training your pokemon in the tall grass instead of sitting on it pondering. Or, try finding another trainer weaker than you." His face began to light up. "Yeah," he replied; "Y'know, you're right!" He sprang up to his feet.

Well that was easy.

"Hey!," he said; "You look weak, c'mon, let's battle!"

...

What?

Before any objections could be made on her part, a pokeball had been tossed at the ground in front of her. Ripley squinted a little, just staring at the pokemon sent out.

A Rattata. Wonderful. She pinched at the bridge of her nose. "Okay, I tried being nice, kid," Ripley grumbled;
And being rude to your elders won't get you anywhere. I guess you need some lessons. Let's go, Geodude!"

It didn't take very long for the lesson to end. However, she had to give him credit, that rat he had put up a pretty good fight. It even took a third or forth attempt at a Rock Throw to take it down. Thanks Tail Whip. There was a decent amount of damage received as well. Always those critical hits. That was the quality that she hated about Ratatta, as small as they are, they pack a dangerous punch. Always, she underestimated them. It was annoying.

The boy's ego deflated, now dejected. "Oh no," he mumbled; "I'm out of pokemon that can fight..." He retreated the fainted pokemon back into it's ball. His second loss. He approached Ripley, then grinned. She became skeptical.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he glanced down at his shoes shyly; "For calling you weak." He shuffled his feet in the dirt, then stood straight, now feigning confidence. "Can I get your phone number?"

She deadpanned at him.

"T-to battle again some time!"

She looked up over with suspicion, carefully considering it. "I.. Guess so," she answered slowly, and a little uneasily. She reached into her shorts pocket, gingerly pulling out her PokeGear and taking the boy's to register his number in her phone. "Joey, eh?," she asked. He nodded eagerly with a smile. She couldn't help but smile herself, the corners of her lips tugging upward slightly. Ripley now began to plug in her own information into his Gear. "Now, don't be calling me randomly and asking me out on a date or somethin', ya' hear?," she teased, handing the device back to him.

"Cool! Thanks Sis!-"

"Call me Ripley."

Joey nodded again, "Okay. Ripley. I'll call when I get the urge to battle again!"

Ripley laughed lightly, patting the boy's head, then ruffling his hat, causing it to turn askew. He whined, swatting at her playfully, then fixed his cap.

"Hey!," hollered a voice. The two turned. Another youngster around Joey's age approached Ripley with an air of arrogance.

"Great," the other boy muttered darkly; "It's the kid that beat me the first time."

He ignored the comment, shoving Joey aside and holding up a pokeball close to Ripley's face in a threatening manner. "You're a trainer, right?," he questioned; "Then you have to battle!"

"Tch," she scoffed. Honestly, these kids lacked manners. With gusto, the boy tossed the ball, throwing out a Pidgey and another Ratatta. What a surprise. Geodude lunged forward, fists at the ready. She prodded at Spearow who remained on her head, asleep, with her index finger. The bird squawked, nipping at the intruding appendage that had woken her up, annoyed.

"Whad'ya say? Want to take this other rat out?"

There was no need for an answer. Hell, she didn't even have to ask twice. Spearow fluttered away from her perch and darted forward toward one of the foe's pokemon.

"Ya' got this, Sis!," Joey cheered. Ripley turned to him, offering a thumbs-up and a wink.