The Pidgey was quite small, no larger than an everyday pigeon you’d find in the park. Hoisting the small avian creature, Noah carefully moved it to the center of the rustic road. For a moment, he entertained the thought of eating it, but the sticky, ruffled mass of feathers before him didn’t exactly scream “appetizing.”

 

“No big deal,” Noah shrugged, his voice tinged with resignation. “I wouldn’t even know how to gut it if I wanted to.” Lacking culinary skills—or even basic butchering knowledge—he sighed audibly. Pushing himself up, he resumed his journey, leaving the lifeless Pidgey as a road marker of his passing.

 

Trailing closely behind him, Riolu had his eyes fixed on the avian corpse. “Ruff!” he barked animatedly, gesturing towards it.

 

“What now?” Noah queried his eyes following the direction of Riolu’s outstretched paw.

 

Riolu barked once more and pointed to his own bag, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, I get it. You want to take the dead Pidgey with us?”

 

Nodding enthusiastically, Riolu’s small head bobbed up and down. It was hard to argue with such an adorable spectacle. Noah shifted the remaining cup noodles from Riolu’s bag to his own before extending it back towards his Pokemon companion.

 

“Stuff it in here, then,” Noah instructed.

 

With no hesitation, Riolu jammed the Pidgey corpse into the bag, unflinchingly ignoring the sticky feeling on his paws.

 

“How do I tell him it’s going to rot soon,” Noah mumbled, reluctant to ruin the gleeful moment the bumbling Pokemon was experiencing.

 

 

 

 

By noon, the sun was a relentless force, charring the ground beneath them. Noah felt as though he were wading through a sea of molten lava; sweat cascaded down his face in unending torrents. His shirt was soaked, and his feet were about ready to file for emancipation.

 

His shirt was drenched in sweat, and his feet felt like they were about to fall off. On the other hand, Riolu had barely noticed the change, only noting that it was much brighter than earlier.

 

He walked at a constant pace, seemingly not even a tiny bit fatigued. “Seriously, just how much stamina do you have,” Noah rasped, as his legs lost strength, forcing him onto his knees.

 

Riolu quickly rushed to his side, his eyes clouded with concern. “I’m- *gasp* fine- *gasp* Riolu-” Noah wheezed, “Let’s- *gasp* take- *gasp* a break.”

 

His sentence barely complete, he crumbled to the ground, splaying his legs. However, contact with the scalding earth brought a new level of agony.

 

“HOLY SHI—” Noah yelped, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the scream. The skin on his palms was sunburned; red and blistered. They hurt like crap, yet felt numb at the same time.

 

Tears nearly breached his eyelids as he mentally kicked himself for his blunder. Riolu watched, nervously shifting from paw to paw, obviously distressed by his friend’s pain.

 

Just then, Riolu had an epiphany. Fishing out a can of soda and a cup of ramen from Noah’s supplies, he carefully inspected the pictorial directions on the packaging and began his culinary endeavor.

 

By the time Noah had calmed down, Riolu was before him, a steaming cup of ramen held in his outstretched hands.

 

By the time Noah had regained some semblance of composure, Riolu was holding out a steaming cup of ramen toward him. His expression was one of pure joy, almost challenging Noah to reject the gesture. “Ruff!” he barked triumphantly.

 

Hesitant, but starving, Noah accepted the cup of noodles. He was taken aback by what he found. The ramen was perfect—no overcooked noodles, no weird aftertaste. Even the soup, concocted from soda, smelled divine. Overcome by the unexpected gourmet experience, he used a pair of disposable chopsticks to dive in, momentarily forgetting the discomfort in his hands.

 

Each slurp was a chorus of flavor; the noodles were heavenly warm and the soda-based broth was unexpectedly smooth and sweet, reminiscent of a well-brewed tea. As a self-proclaimed ramen connoisseur, Noah couldn’t help but give a thumbs-up, utterly amazed by the culinary miracle before him.

 

Riolu responded with a joyful dance, his face beaming with pride. He quickly assembled another cup for himself and found the meal just as delectable, further inflating his newfound pride as a makeshift chef. The duo’s lunch went undisturbed, and eventually, they had to pick up the pace again.

 

Armed with their full bellies, they left their lunch spot with wide grins. “How’d you make it so well?” Noah inquired, his voice with a hint of awe, “Ruff!” Riolu barked, pointing to the sizzling ground. “Ah, you used the ground heat to cook the noodles. Genius!” Noah’s eyes widened in realization.

 

“You’re brilliant, buddy!” Noah beamed, his grin expanding across his face. Riolu replied with a chest-puffed “Ruff,” obviously pleased with himself.

 

Soon, they came across another Pokemon—a Spearow with crimson wings and a pink beak—struggling to grasp a pile of sticks. Its two clawed limbs flailed as they tried to get a good grip on the sticks.

 

In a fit of rage, it lashed out at the sticks it was trying to grab hold of. The bird’s beak glowed white before it slammed into the woodpile, scattering sticks everywhere but resolving nothing. This only resulted in its anger rising.

 

“CAW” The Spearow cawed, rushing at us the next moment. It charged at us recklessly, its body aimed directly at Riolu as it prepared to tackle him. As it neared us, its beak ignited with white light once again. Riolu didn’t hesitate, meeting the winged avian with a punch of his own.

 

The Spearow was sent flying, as the punch overwhelmed it. Struggling to regain its balance, the Spearow cried out, sending echoes throughout the forest. “Wait…” An iconic scene appeared in my mind, the flock of Spearows that attacked Ash and Pikachu when they’d just started their journey.

 

Almost as if on cue, an avian army of Spearows appeared, their menacing cries filling the air as they closed in on their wounded comrade. They began to converge at the wounded Spearow, each of their eyes locked onto us. “Crap, RUN,” Noah yelled, grabbing a startled Riolu by the scruff of his neck and dashing away with as much speed as his weary legs could muster.