Sinistea shivered in his tea cup, burrowing himself deeper into the hood of Remiel's winter parka. The blue-grey eyed youth himself was wrapped up tightly in a fine grey scarf his mother had gifted him prior to leaving Galar. He had been lucky to bring it with him on his latest excursion. But that still didn't excuse him for getting caught up in such a bloody mess.

Trudging through the snow, one foot after another, Remiel was determined to find his way back onto the route and towards the warmth of Lavaridge Town. His thoughts were laser focused on the idea of a toasty fireplace, a cup of earl grey, and a good book. When figures emerged out from the blizzard several feet ahead of him, however, those thoughts were briefly interrupted. He squinted at the silhouettes of these Pokémon from behind the slightly foggy surface of his lenses. It was a herd of Snorunt and Froslass. either would make a good addition to his team.

So, planting his feet firmly into the snow-covered ground, the Galar native withdrew a Pokéball, cocked his arm back, and chucked it at the closest silhouette that slowly moved through the blizzard. The attempt was rather spontaneous and hasty. He typically weakened a wild Pokémon in battle before trying. But he knew none of his current Pokémon would be able to withstand conditions such as these for any prolonged period of time.