The Forest of Adventure, a supposedly aptly named wooded area. Legend has it that any trainer entering the forest was in for an adventure.
With this in mind, walking towards aforementioned forest was a 22-year-old trainer, who had been all over, had seen many Pokemon, and had caught a good number of them as well. He was clad in a red and white sleeveless jacket over a black t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and perhaps his most distinctive feature, a large, brown cowboy hat atop his head. Floating next to him was a Shuppet, who was not looking particularly pleased, though this was not unusual for her.
"So ac-cor-ding to le-gend, a-ny trai-ner who en-ters this for-est, they are in for an ad-ven-ture, cor-rect?" the Shuppet asked her trainer in English, albeit with a creepy stutter.
"Yep," nodded Keith, the trainer. "Hence the name, Forest of Adventure. Fitting, isn't it, Myrtle?"
"How o-ri-gi-nal," Myrtle muttered dryly. "They had to go and take the most ob-vi-ous route with this one."
"Myrtle, you complain about everything," Keith sighed.
"I most cer-tain-ly do not, Meat Sack," snapped the Shuppet. "I on-ly com-plain when I have rea-son to." Keith rolled his eyes.
"You mean, when you can find an excuse to," Keith corrected her. "I mean, come on, yesterday you were carrying on for half an hour because you thought you saw a scratch on your Poke Ball! The Poke Ball you almost never go into anymore, by the way," he added. "And then once I managed to get in more than two words, and managed to tell you that it was one of Meowth's hairs, then you started demanding to know why I let Meowth near your Poke Ball. Thus I reiterate; you complain whenever you can find an excuse to."
"You seem to be do-ing a lot of com-plai-ning your-self, Meat Sack," Myrtle observed, smirking. "So you are hard-ly one to talk."
Keith sighed and rolled his eyes as the duo continued onward, headed for the forest, and undoubtedly for adventure.