Gastly, the Gas Pokémon. Gastly is largely composed of gaseous matter. When exposed to a strong wind, the gaseous body quickly dwindles away. Groups of this Pokémon cluster under the eaves of houses to escape the ravages of wind.
Leaving Vermillion, Nurse Isabelle rode on Ponyta through the grass. Everywhere, Pidgey flew up startled and Rattata scattered away. Every day, Ponyta had grown stronger from the young foal she had been when Isabelle caught her. If Izzy had known the Ponyta lagging behind was this young, she would have chosen another one, but that didn't matter now. The fiery steed with the blue mane had matured nicely. She was still skittish around new Pokémon and in new situations, but that occurred less and less often.
However, today appeared to be such a day. Suddenly, Ponyta went from full gallop into an emergency stop, digging her hooves into the dirt of the road they were on. Neighing fearfully, she took a couple steps before rearing, yet again throwing Isabelle off. Izzy rolled away just in time to avoid a kick from the hind feet. Because the horse was mad with fear, Isabelle withdrew Ponyta using the Pokéball. When everything was silent, the nurse sighed in relief, standing off and trying to brush the dirt off her stained, white trousers.
"Are you alright, darling?" A voice sounded from her right. Isabelle wasn't sure how she missed that, but a lady sat on a fallen tree trunk. She seemed like the most ordinary, elderly female with her hair in a bun, a faded, purple dress, and a Pokéball on her lap.
"Oh. Yes. Thank you. This happens from time to time. I wonder what spooked her so, though." Isabelle smiled kindly at the lady, hoping she would not be challenged to a battle.
"I think what may have caused it. Gastly, show yourself!"
"Gastly!" The ghost appeared next to the lady, grinning mischievously at the young nurse.
"Ah, that makes sense. Mind if I join you on that log? My body is a tad sore from falling." Isabelle asked.
"Not at all, dear. Not at all."
With a soft groan, Izzy sat on the log, which was actually not comfortable at all. "So, ma'am. May I ask why you have a Gastly? They're not the easiest Pokémon to handle."
The lady laughed. "I'm quite aware. Gastly and I have been friends for a long time. You see, I am a medium. I help people cope with the concept of death. Gastly helps me with that."
"Gastly helps? Can he enter the realm of the dead?" Isabelle asked, intrigued. She had heard about this before, but since it was not scientifically proven, it was written off as mere slander.
"Almost, dearie. Gastly channels the spirits of the dead. So people can ask them some last questions or solve unfinished business."
Isabelle nodded. "I see..."
"Do you have anyone you wish to speak?"
The image of her father flashed across her mind, but Izzy shook her head. "No, thank you. I prefer to let them rest."
"Wise decision, girl, because people rarely get to hear what they want to hear."
After those words, the lady stood up, bid her a good day, and walked away, in the direction Isabelle had come. Izzy remained sitting for a while, entirely stuck in a vortex of feelings. That night, she called her mother, to reminisce about the dead. She cried herself to sleep that night, with old wounds torn open.