Rock and a Hard place

The sun was already high in the sky, and I was nowhere close to where I needed to be. My grand plan—head to Oreburgh City, sell this fossil, and make enough money to survive—was off to a fantastic start. If by "fantastic" you meant "completely terrible."

And the reason? That reason was currently lying across the path, as still as a rock. Except this rock had legs, a horn, and an attitude that screamed "I do what I want."

"Rhyhorn, come on!" I groaned, trying to pull the thick rope I'd somehow managed to loop around its horn. This wasn't a nice lead—it was more like something I saw in a comic about cowboys. And judging by how Rhyhorn was ignoring me, I was about as intimidating as a cowboy in a tutu. "You can't just lay there all day. Oreburgh is that way," I pointed dramatically down the path.

Rhyhorn responded by exhaling loudly and… yawning. It was a big, drawn-out yawn, the kind that made it abundantly clear that nothing about my current crisis was enough to get it moving. If it were possible for a Pokémon to be sarcastic, Rhyhorn was giving me the ultimate "Who cares?" yawn.

"Great. Amazing," I muttered under my breath. "I leave behind a free starter Pokémon, make this genius decision to go catch a powerhouse, and now the powerhouse wants to nap on the job."

I gave the rope another tug, which was as effective as trying to pull a mountain with dental floss. Rhyhorn just blinked at me lazily and went back to inspecting a small patch of dirt as if it had just found the meaning of life hidden there.

I sighed and plopped down on the dusty ground a few feet away. "You know," I said, staring at the horizon, "they make this look way easier in the stories. The trainers just say, 'Let's go!' and their Pokémon are all like, 'Yeah! Adventure time!'" I glanced at Rhyhorn, who was now lowering its head to chew on a particularly gnarly bush. "You're supposed to be a powerhouse, not a lawn mower."

I was getting desperate. My stomach growled, reminding me of the very limited bread I had left in my bag. And here was Rhyhorn, my supposed ticket to becoming a real trainer, chewing weeds without a care in the world.

"Alright, big guy. How about some motivation?" I dug into my bag, pulling out the very last of my bread. It was small, stale, and honestly, more useful as a paperweight than as food. I held it out to Rhyhorn, giving my best encouraging smile. "Here, food! You want it? Look, delicious... I think."

Rhyhorn paused for a moment, then turned its head to look at me. For one beautiful, fleeting second, I thought it was going to come over. I was ready for a breakthrough moment. The music swelled dramatically in my head. And then...

Rhyhorn snorted, looked back at the bush, and took a big ol' bite of leaves.

"Unbelievable." I dropped my head into my hands, half-laughing, half-crying. "Leaves. You want leaves over bread."

I was trying not to lose my mind, but Rhyhorn was making it really, really hard. It was like dealing with a toddler that weighed half a ton and didn't understand why walking to Oreburgh City was in both our best interests.

Suddenly, a noise came from the nearby bushes—a rustling that made me freeze. My first thought was something big, something dangerous. Something that would make this whole situation worse than it already was. I grabbed a stick from the ground—more of a twig, really—and held it in front of me like it was Excalibur.

"Alright, whatever you are, I'm warning you! I have a stick, and I'm... sort of capable of using it!"

The rustling grew louder, and out of the bushes waddled a Bidoof. It blinked at me, its big eyes full of curiosity. I looked at it, and it looked at me. For a second, I thought that maybe Rhyhorn would notice the new Pokémon—maybe its wild instincts would kick in, and it'd get up, ready to chase it off.

Nope.

Rhyhorn glanced over, saw the Bidoof, and promptly closed its eyes as if the entire scenario was far beneath its interest. The Bidoof, clearly unimpressed by both of us, sniffed the air and waddled off into the bushes again.

"Seriously? Not even a flicker of curiosity?" I dropped the stick, shaking my head. This was getting ridiculous. I needed a plan—something to get Rhyhorn moving. Food wasn't working, threats weren't working, and apparently, my pleading eyes weren't either.

That's when it hit me. Rhyhorn hadn't followed my orders, but back in that cave, it had charged at me just fine. It reacted when it was provoked—when something had its attention. Maybe I just needed to use that to my advantage.

I stood up, brushing dirt off my pants, and grabbed a small rock. "Alright, let's try this a different way," I muttered, weighing the rock in my hand. I took a deep breath and tossed it just past Rhyhorn, watching it bounce along the ground.

Rhyhorn's ear twitched, its eyes narrowing at the sound. I grabbed another rock, throwing it a little further, this time with a bit more force. Rhyhorn snorted, looking slightly annoyed now. I could work with annoyed.

"Yes! That's right, big guy. Be mad!" I said, picking up a third rock and throwing it down the path. Rhyhorn let out a frustrated snort, finally getting to its feet, shaking the dust off its body. Slowly—very, very slowly—it started walking toward where the rocks had landed.

"Progress!" I cheered quietly, grabbing another rock and jogging a few paces ahead before tossing it further down the path. Rhyhorn followed, its gaze fixed ahead, and I realized with a mix of relief and mild disbelief that this might actually work.

It wasn't pretty. I was throwing rocks like some lunatic trying to lead a parade, and every so often, Rhyhorn would stop, glare at me as if to say, "What do you think you're doing?" But it moved. One step at a time, it moved.

Hours passed, and my arms started to feel like wet noodles from throwing rocks, but when I saw the outline of Oreburgh City in the distance, my spirits lifted. We'd made it. Kind of. I turned to look at Rhyhorn, who, predictably, had decided to plop itself down again, probably celebrating its personal victory of moving a whole few kilometers.

I walked over and sat down next to it, exhaustion settling in. I was tired, I was starving, and I was starting to feel like maybe I wasn't cut out for this. I leaned back on my hands, staring at the sky.

"You know," I said to Rhyhorn, "I thought having a Pokémon would be... different. Like, we'd just click, and everything would work out. But you're really showing me that I have no idea what I'm doing, aren't you?"

Rhyhorn didn't respond, obviously. But it let out a deep sigh—one that could've been mistaken for mild amusement. I chuckled, shaking my head. "Fine. Rest up. We'll make it to Oreburgh tomorrow, and then we'll see about selling this fossil. Maybe get some actual food instead of... you know, leaves."

Rhyhorn huffed again and closed its eyes. I took that as an agreement, or at least not an outright refusal.

The sky began to darken, stars appearing one by one, and I let my head rest against a nearby rock. One day down, countless more to go. This wasn't exactly the grand adventure I'd dreamed of, but it was something. I had a Rhyhorn—an uncooperative, frustrating Rhyhorn—and that was better than nothing. We'd figure it out, eventually.

Or maybe I'd just end up learning how to live with a lawn-mowing rock rhino.

"One stubborn day at a time," I murmured to myself as the stars twinkled overhead, and for once, the thought didn't seem so bad.