Sawk and Hippowdon

The sun-baked rocks tried to scorch his feet. The vast expanse of packed sand tried to blind him by reflecting the relentless rays of the sun. Down below, past the cliff, he could see a lush green paradise created by the wide dark river. It would be cooler there, more comfortable. But being in that comfortable place would not build his spirit. He was traveling to improve his training, not to be pampered. For that reason, he took to the edge of the desert, letting it try to break him. He wouldn't let it.

Pulling his belt tight after a vigorous punching and twisting routine nearly made the knot come undone, the Sawk observed the remains of his target. A tall rock had stood here, sitting on its end with the help of other rocks. Now it was a pile of cracked and jagged reddish rocks, none larger than his head. Seeing one that was noticeably bigger than the rest, he slammed a fist into it, breaking it into five pieces. There, that was better. He turned and went back to running, looking for something else to punch.

He spotted another standing rock not too far from the one he had demolished. Who was putting these up? But, what did it matter who did it? It gave him good targets. The Sawk headed for that one, soon spotting a third standing rock. Only, it was in the process of being made to stand. A large murky brown Pokemon with a body that was wide in all proportions, it was gripping the stone with its mouth and using its forepaws to set up support rocks. Then it was a Hippowdon. Maybe this was its territory.

The Sawk hoped this area was the Hippowdon's territory. It wouldn't be a proper day of training without beating up some silly Pokemon who thought it could defeat him in battle. However, it wasn't proper to pick fights. That was something his father had pounded into his head when he was young, something he never really liked. If he didn't pick his battles, how would he get proper battle experience? But that so-called honor remained with him, leaving him to find indirect ways to provoke a battle.

Thankfully, he had a way right in front of him: the standing rocks. Making sure his belt was tight, the Sawk sped up and prepared his fists. He got in good range of the second rock and launched himself into the air. Controlling his body and momentum, he brought all his power into his right fist and slammed it into the rock. It promptly flew off the spot filled with huge cracks, then skipped along the sandy rock ground, breaking up as it went along. He dropped back into a moderate run, going after the largest piece. When he had it, he tossed it up into the air and made his fists go into a blur in pulverizing it to join the sand.

The Hippowdon couldn't help but notice and get angry. It made a bugling bellow at him, snorting sand out of its big nostrils. "Stranger, you have no right to destroy that!"

Keeping a ready stance, he turned to face the chubby Pokemon. "Who said so?! It's more like you don't have a right to interfere with my training."

"These rocks aren't being put here to be smashed," the Hippowdon said. "They're here for..."

"Why should I care?" the Sawk said, shrugging. "They've been great for practice. Shame they crumble and fall over so fast."

"It seems I need to teach you to respect the work of others," the Hippowdon said, stamping one of its feet down and sucking air in.

"And you'll learn to respect my fist," he retorted, dashing over to punch the Hippowdon in the nostrils. He gave a few more, then bounced backwards after it just took them. "Huh, as flabby as I thought. I don't see why they call you Hippowdon. It's more like Hip-sad-dorf."

At that, the Hippowdon released a truly staggering amount of sand, surprising since it didn't seem to take that much from its surroundings. Within seconds, it twisted up into a cyclone and pummeled him with millions of grains of sand. The Sawk shifted his body so that the sand wasn't blasting him in the face, determined to not let this faze him. He wasn't weak enough to lose.

Something seemed to whisper to him in the cyclone, an eerily familiar voice. "You've failed to hone your spirit and morals properly," someone said to him. His father? "If you continue like this, no one will like you and many will hate you. You will be remembered as a monster, not a warrior."

The Sawk narrowed his eyes. "How dare you scold me as if you were my father. Both you and he are too soft. I will be strong, the strongest ever."

He defeated the Hippowdon and the newest standing rock. But he couldn't defeat that voice. It would continue to haunt him, driving him mad. That is how he became the Mad Wayfarer who terrorizes the desert towns along the great river today.

…

Hippowdon Diamond entry: It blasts internally stored sand from ports on its body to creating a towering twister to attack.

Sawk White entry: Tying their belts gets them pumped and makes their punches more destructive. Disturbing their training angers them.