『 A Yellow Gem and Lots of Fluff. 』
Citrine is a girl that can't feel pain, and has survived thus far with the help of the Pokemon around her and her surrogate guardian Wallene and Riley in Rustboro. Being the younger sister of a world-famous Berry...
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In strife, fortune.
"My fingers are a little numb..." Citrine noticed as she brushed her hand through the sandy ground. "Is it because of the sand?"
She dismissed it.
"Ah, found it."
She picked up the hardened stone, and traced her finger over the fossilized structure on the top. It was vaguely shaped like a flower-- a tulip, with its stem running down the side.
"So it's the Claw Fossil, Lileep."
She wasn't looking too closely when she was prying it off just now. She could swipe around further, but she reckoned the other fossil had vanished under the sand.
She put it aside, and set a careful hand on Vibrava's head. The Pokemon was snoring on her lap now after eating a berry, and Citrine wondered if it would attack her when it woke up.
There's a chip in one of its wings. Citrine ran a hand over it with a sigh. That'll be a scar...
Loudred called out to her from a distance, having managed to uproot her wheelchair and the bike from under the rubble.
Citrine tucked the fossil into her bag, and picked up her Magnemite. It's still asleep, though the sandstorm's passed. She put it back inside.
Lombre helped her into her vest, and they settled back into her wheelchair. Vibrava in her arms, Zubat fluttering by, and Magnemite in her bag-- they set off.
-
It takes a while and a lot of landscape scouting on Lombre's part, but they make it out of the desert around nightfall.
Citrine hadn't been walking at all, but she was exhausted. If luck has it, she was on the wrong side of the desert now and there were no towns nearby. She would have to camp out for today and find a Center for Vibrava and Magney tomorrow...
"Hey, you there."
Oh, here comes the cliche.
There's a middle-aged lady standing there-- did she come from behind the trees? Yikes, it's so dark, Citrine didn't see her coming at all.
The lady is dressed warmly, with a cloth covering her head and her hands on her hips.
"A trainer?" she scrutinizes Citrine for a bit, "rare to see one on a wheelchair. Well then, come this way."
