[attr="class","spiral"]It's childish, but all that frustration gets Lillian pedaling harder than she know she ought to. She rears up on her bike and pushes at her limits just to vent the leftover feelings from the war, the days after, her dreams last night. It's stupid and she knows it and it leaves her suddenly struggling to continue riding her bike at all. It's sheer luck that a passing parade of Bonsly give her an excuse to stop.

She puts a foot down to act as a temporary kickstand and drapes herself over the handlebars. Her arms hang over the tops, her back bends to allow her head to rest between them. This is another problem. Her head. She can't keep it as clear and steady as she was always able to before. She's so quick to anger, to panic, to sentiment. There's so much noise all the time.

It takes real effort to wind herself back down every time. Even now she needs to take an extra thirty seconds after the Bonsly pass to suck down water and smooth out her breathing. Her body complains as she straightens herself back up in her bicycle seat but she ignores it. This pain is the price she pays for getting worked up. She's going to finish this route.

Her half-empty water bottle is put back in its holder behind her seat and she's back to it.

[attr="class","spiral"]The next time she runs into a pokemon on her ride it's alone, but much more of a roadblock than the Bonsly had been. The Growlithe shoots out from a bush to the side of the path and begins barking and growling immediately upon spotting Lillian. She tries to ride around it and it cuts her off. She considers changing course and it follows her. All the while its ears and fur stand on end.

"I am tired, move," she says, voice low and icy. Of course it doesn't so much as flinch. It's a wild pokemon, not one of her party members. It hasn't been put through the rigors that teach a pokemon why they ought to listen when she speaks. Whatever. She doesn't have time to reason with the thing. Reaching behind her to a different set of holders she pulls out one of a few pokeballs.

Bright, white light shines and her Butterfree appears. Lillian points at the Growlithe.

"Naptime," she commands with the voice of a parent scolding their toddler. Butterfree is quick to respond. A dusting of green powder slowly covers its wings, and then with one strong beat of them it scatters and falls forward through the air. The Growlithe barks as flames lick at its teeth -- a FIRE FANG that might be threatening were it not so quickly snuffed out by the SLEEP POWDER falling all around it.

The Growlithe is asleep before it even gets a chance to attack. Lillian stares at its crumpled body on the ground for a moment before sighing. The pokemon vanishes in a flash of red light.