President Michael Wilson
Tildes are the work of the devil
The Charizard flew up and over the debris that was the trademark of the spear pillar, and came to a stop midair. His gaze was focused intently on a small group there- A small group of Pokemon. As he evaluated each one, a small growl of anger left the dragon's throat. They all simply looked inexperienced. No words were said as it flew downwards, its wings spread their widest right before it landed. And once upon solid ground, the beast brought its wings in close to its body.
As the Charizard lay resting, its own blue flame finally managed to catch up. It too was silent, floating just above the ground. If one did not know better they might have said that Moltres' spirit was just as exhausted as its chosen was.
As the Charizard lay resting, its own blue flame finally managed to catch up. It too was silent, floating just above the ground. If one did not know better they might have said that Moltres' spirit was just as exhausted as its chosen was.