So, basically this is a short one-shot about the natures of Froslass and Gallade.
One, an enchanting mistress of ice,
Leading to your demise.
Whether you are frozen and displayed for eternity,
Or simply there to satisfy the creature's hunger,
You shall remember the name of what destroyed you for the few moments you have left.
The other, a curious, courteous psychic,
That will fight fiercely in battle,
Especially if protecting from a foe.
Both a fighter and a thinker makes it an impressive ally, one whose name would be hard to forget.
For Froslass and Gallade, you see,
Are almost as different as different can be,
One that attacks, one that protects,
One that is sly, one that is kind,
One that has a heart as cold as ice,
One that is virtuous, noble, and wise.
Despite all these, their rivalry stems from something else.
You see, these counterparts, as you could call them, have need of the same thing if they are to be.
The stone that sparkles like a morning dawn.
Though it is morals, and lack of them too,
That keep the rivalry alive,
Someway, somehow, they had to meet,
And the stone tells you why.
Though this rivalry,
As relatively small as it is,
May seem unimportant in the scheme of things,
It still draws a vivid pattern
Of nature weaving it's way.