Yveltal's head swivels towards the other living thing. Another [Pokémon], like itself? Something like that. Small, weak--except it does not feel weak. The life emanating from the white-furred [Pokémon] is...something else. A strong little thing.

It deviates from its original path and hopes it doesn't want to fight. With how frozen it is, it might not be able to.

It would be better if it could fly, but that's the entire problem. With a titanic movement, it rears up the best it can--a core of light in its red chest flares a bright white--

--a massive beam of black and crimson shoots towards Asriel, or where Yveltal believes Asriel is. Aiming on the ground is as awkward as moving across it.