Starting out is never as easy as it looks

It was late in the afternoon and Elliot was out of breath from rushing into town. His shoes were dirty and his knees just as much, from the numerous trips and falls he had spectacularly performed whilst trying to race down Route 43 in record time whilst carrying a backpack and a sneasel in critical condition. Luckily, the Pokemon Centre was still a hive of activity. Lights shone brightly through the windows and Elliot pushed his way inside and struggled through the groups of casually chatting trainers to the front desk.

"I found this sneasel just this morning and didn't want to leave it to die!" he said in exasperation, the young pokemon barely conscious in his arms. His eyes shifted nervously, aware of his tone of voice. Turning back to the nurse, he stammered, "I have Pokeballs- money, whatever you need. I've just left home and-" Elliot took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. "Please..." he held out the pokemon in his arms to the nurse at the desk.