There is a very distinct aroma in the air when there is no hurry to get anywhere, you might even call it the scent of freedom, and it has a soft sweetness to it.
I could see a building close by, the two doors it possessed were divided by a tall fence, no way around it.
A very tall man, ragged, sweaty and dirty moved fast atio a bicycle, all along the other side of the fence and entering the building. The door on my side of the fence opened up a few minutes later and the man ran out towards me.
He was in distress, always looking around, searching for something… or someone. He was acting like he was being followed. He tripped right in front of me and drop something, a pokéball that rolled up to my feet.
I picked it up and offered my help to also help him up, but he got up quickly and started to look for the pokéball. I showed it to him and for a moment he stopped and laughed, nervously, almost hysterically, but made no move to acquire the ball.
He looked me in the eye and asked me if I would like a pokémon. I said yes of course. He sighed in relief, looked around and started running towards town.
I could hear him yelling as he got further away “it’s yours!”.
The pokénav recognized the pokémon as a fire type, it was a cyndaquil.