“It shouldn’t have to be!” she yelled, the words exploding out of her mouth. “If you carry on like this, you might as well just evolve!”
There was a shattering silence. Everyone turned to stare at Carrie in horror.
Velotus felt as though a part of him had been ripped away. He stood numb with shock before the boiling rage surfaced and directed itself at his trainer. Leaves glinting more dangerously than ever, he leapt across the ground towards her, his fight with the Skarmory insignificant.
Carrie flinched as his face froze into an expression so cold, so unforgiving, that he utterly failed to acknowledge the fear and apology in his trainer’s eyes. He took a threatening step forwards, hissing, “Is that what you want?”
“No!” she stammered. “I didn –”
“Am I no better than one of them?” he spat.
Carrie’s face now mirrored the expression of the small Grovyle beside her: desperate, terrified. Too blinded by rage to care, Velotus leapt at her and drew back his blades, ready to slash.
A petrified squeal from Raptola interrupted the silence of his assault. In that split-second, he saw properly how the young creature clung onto his trainer for dear life. He remembered how much this human meant to him. He realised just what he was doing.
Suddenly panicking, he urged his blades to retreat as he collided with his trainer in midair, knocking her and Raptola to the ground but not – he hoped – doing any serious harm.