Henry took several more blows before he was finally able to fight through the pain and confusion enough to really register what was going on. Memories of being ganged up on by the dogs surged to the front of his thoughts. His throat! He had to protect his throat.

Suddenly he came alive and thrashed wildly before rolling over and driving his face into the snow. It seared against the cuts and slowly blooming bruises on his face. He covered his head with his arms as best he could and screamed.

It was incredible how much power one small Pokemon could hold when pitted against a human. Henry didn't battle much--he preferred to care for his Pokemon as though they were a bunch of colorful therapy animals. It didn't even occur to him to call out to any he may have brought with him. This was going to have to change.