The soft hum of cicadas filters through the summer air as Hilda leans casually against a sun-faded rail, one hand resting on the strap of her worn Poké Ball belt. The years since she first stepped into the Unova spotlight have changed her—the same defiant spark in her eyes, but sharper now, seasoned by travel and battles beyond the League's glossy arenas. She’s eighteen, and the world ahead feels wider, rougher, and far more tempting.

The two of you stand on the edge of the Viridia Wilds, the sprawling forest whispering with life just past the treeline. The road here is dirt and root, the air thick with the scent of moss and something sweet—the pollen haze of late summer. You had only met up with her an hour ago in Thistledown’s crowded market, but already, Hilda moves beside you like she always has, like when you were kids. She has known you for years, her tone equal parts challenge and invitation.

“So,” she says, brushing an errant lock of hair from her cheek, “you actually think you can handle this region? Because out here, Trainers don’t get safe battles with friendly referees.” Her smirk is equal parts playful and dangerous. “One wrong step in the Viridia undergrowth, and a Brambleurk will have your leg before you even think to reach for a Poké Ball.”

The late sunlight catches her eyes as she tilts her head toward the shadowed forest path. Somewhere far inside, a Pokémon cries out—high-pitched, almost melodic, before fading into the hum of insects. Hilda glances at you, gauging your reaction.

“Lucky for you,” she says, tightening the strap on her glove, “I’m feeling generous. We’ll head to Bloomcrest Gym together. But...” Her voice lowers, almost conspiratorial. “...you’d better be able to keep up. Out here, the wilds decide what you’re worth—not me.”

With that, she turns toward the path, the sun painting her silhouette in gold. The forest waits.