We crested the dune and looked down. The scene was terrifying. The sand at the base of the dune wasn't flat; it was a perfect, inverted cone—a pit of shifting, sliding earth.
At the very center, screaming in panic, was Whismur. Every time it tried to scramble up, the sand gave way, dragging it deeper toward the dark center.
"It's being pulled under!" Clara shrieked.
"Something is down there making the sand shift," I realized. "Lotad! Wingull! Go!"
My two Water-types materialized.
"Use Water Gun on the center of the pit! Harden the sand and flush it out!"
Lotad and Wingull unleashed dual streams of water. The dry sand instantly turned to heavy mud, stopping the slide. A moment later, the water pressure forced the hidden predator to surface. With a chittering hiss, a strange, orange creature burst from the sand.
It had a massive, round head and jaws that looked strong enough to crush rock. It was an ant-like Pokémon, snapping its mandibles furiously at the sudden moisture.
I pulled out my Pokédex immediately.
Trapinch. The Ant Pit Pokémon. Its nest is a sloped, bowl-like pit in the desert. It waits patiently for prey to tumble down. Its jaws are powerful enough to crush boulders.
"Trapinch..." I muttered, analyzing the situation. "That explains the sliding sand. It must have the ability Arena Trap. Once Whismur stepped on the edge, it couldn't escape."
"Wingull, swoop in! Grab Whismur now!" I commanded.
While the Trapinch was shaking the mud from its orange shell, Wingull dove. It grabbed the small pink Pokémon by its arms and heaved it out of the pit, dropping it safely onto the solid ground near us.
"Oh, thank goodness!" Clara dropped to her knees, hugging the trembling Whismur tightly. "You're safe, you're safe."
I turned back to the pit, ready for a fight. I expected the Trapinch to be furious about losing its meal. I prepared Torchic for a battle, knowing the Ground-type had the advantage in this terrain.
But to my surprise, the Trapinch didn't attack. It looked at us with its star-shaped eyes, clicked its mandibles once, and then frantically dug straight down, vanishing deep into the earth in seconds.
"It... fled?" I frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Trapinch are territorial ambush predators."
I looked at the sobbing Whismur. Why did it run?
A few theories raced through my mind. Did Whismur's supersonic yelling transmit through the ground? Maybe it alerted a larger colony of Trapinch, and this one didn't want to share? Or maybe... maybe it wasn't afraid of us. Maybe it was afraid of being exposed.
"Stephen!" Clara's whisper was urgent. She wasn't looking at the pit anymore. She was looking at the sky.
I followed her gaze. Descending rapidly from the hazy northern sky was a terrifying formation.
Leading the charge was a massive, armor-plated bird, its body gleaming like a blade in the sun—a Skarmory. Flanking it were three Magneton, their magnets spinning silently.
"Steel types," I hissed. "Get down! Behind the ridge!"
We threw ourselves flat against the sand behind a wind-swept rock formation. I held my breath, hoping the wind had already obscured our footprints leading to the pit.
The Skarmory let out a metallic screech that sounded like scraping iron. It didn't seem to notice us. Its sharp eyes were locked onto the muddy, disturbed sand pit we had just left.
The Magnetons buzzed around the hole, scanning the area with electric pulses.
"They're hunting," I whispered, realizing the ecosystem dynamics. "Skarmory nest in the volcanic ash near Mt. Chimney, but they hunt in the desert. They must have heard Whismur's scream and came to steal the prey."
The Skarmory landed at the edge of the Trapinch pit, stabbing its beak into the sand, but the orange ant was long gone.
"The Trapinch knew," I realized. "It didn't run from us. It ran from them."
We stayed perfectly still, covered in dust, waiting for the steel predators to move on. The desert was far more crowded, and far more dangerous, than the empty map suggested.
We remained pressed against the hot stone, listening to the metallic screech of the Skarmory and the buzzing of the Magnetons as they scouted the area. They circled the empty pit a few times, then banked sharp left, flying low over the dunes in the direction the Trapinch had likely tunneled.
The immediate danger to us had passed, but the tension remained. Clara turned to me, her face pale under the layer of desert dust.
"Stephen," she whispered, clutching her Whismur. "They're going to hunt it down. That Skarmory... it's going to find the Trapinch. What should we do?"
I looked at her, then at the direction the steel flock had vanished. I offered her the two logical choices, stripping away emotion.
"Option one," I said coldly. "We do nothing. That Trapinch tried to eat your Whismur. It's a predator. If we leave it to its fate, we save our resources and avoid a fight with a Skarmory—which is a heavily armored, dangerous opponent."
I paused, watching her reaction. "Option two: We follow the flock. We intervene if they find the Trapinch. But this carries a high risk. We could be attacked by both the steel flock and the wild Trapinch."
Clara looked down at her Whismur, then back at the empty sand pit. She didn't hesitate as long as I expected.
"We have to go," she said firmly. "We have to help it."
"Why?" I challenged her. "It attacked you."
"Because it hesitated," Clara insisted, her voice gaining strength. "When Whismur was in the pit... the Trapinch had plenty of time to strike before we arrived. It grabbed Whismur's leg but didn't crush it. It wasn't trying to kill... it was just hungry, or maybe young and scared. Otherwise, Whismur wouldn't be here right now."
She stood up, brushing the sand from her knees. "It spared my partner. I can't let it get torn apart by a Skarmory."
I looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time since we reunited. The "foolish childhood trainer" who only cared about cute appearances was gone. In her place was someone willing to risk her own safety for a wild Pokémon that had just attacked her, simply because she recognized its life had value.
"You're right," I smiled, nodding with genuine respect. "That's the mindset of a responsible trainer, Clara. You have good instincts."
"Let's go," I commanded, adjusting my bag. "The Skarmory and Magnetons flew west, following the subsonic vibrations of the tunneling Trapinch. If we hurry, we can cut them off."
We left the safety of the shade, moving quickly across the shifting sands. We followed the shadow of the Skarmory in the distance.
The tracks of the steel flock were non-existent in the air, but their intent was clear. They were circling a specific patch of dunes about a kilometer away.
"They found it," I said, seeing the Magnetons descend. "Get your Poké Balls ready, Clara. We're not just fighting the heat anymore."