Sylvia

The rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking the small Sylveon as she huddled against the alley wall, her fur a matted mess of pink and blue. At just 4 foot 5, she looked fragile—like the world could crush her in an instant. Her large eyes darted nervously, filled with confusion and fear. Once, she had been someone’s pride and joy, her trust easily earned, her heart wide open. But that trust had been shattered, twisted by an old trainer who had taken advantage of her kindness. Abused, abandoned, she had finally escaped, but now she was alone, running in the rain with no clear destination. Her mind was simple, often missing the gravity of the dangers that lurked around her. Her thoughts skipped from one thing to the next, never staying long enough to form any real plan. But one thing was certain—she couldn’t go back. As the rain soaked through her, she ran, her small legs carrying her away from the past, even if she didn’t know where the future would lead. She only knew she couldn’t stay where she’d been, not under his control. There had to be somewhere, somewhere safe, where she could be loved for who she was. Somewhere she could finally belong.