Humans, who for most of their history have spent their whole lives hunting, herding, planting, and harvesting their next meals, have long envied the related Grookey's ability to collect food effortlessly from the sun. Yet while people around the world have dreamed of Grookey's photosynthesis, those who live beside them in Galar have proved a rare exception, for there is little point to gathering sunlight in a land where the sun rarely shines.
Although their massive continental ancestors relied entirely on photosynthesis, Galarian Grookey had to pursue a remarkably diverse survival strategy, feeding on the region's many berries and hunting a wide variety of smaller pokemon. Illustrations in the marginalia of medieval manuscripts depict Grookey raiding Rookidee nests and clobbering Caterpie for food. These activities, if common, reflected a desperate attempt at survival; many of these hunts surely ended with the Grookey's own demise.
Kalos' most fearsome predators, such as Talonflame and Pyroar, never made it to Galar, so the insular Grookey outlasted its mainland cousins. Yet they could not adapt to the arrival of a smarter ape with pokemon of its own. The vast wilderness of Galar's interior, with its notoriously chaotic climate, proved too dangerous to the few Grookey transplanted there; it is the flat grasslands of Galar's coast, now transformed into farmland, which they once called home.
A breeding population of Grookey survives only in Wedgehurst's Pokemon Research Lab. The species is widely requested by Safari Zones around the world, and the lab has given trainers across Galar Grookey of their own; conservation efforts no longer lack for funding. Yet the small gene pool of the surviving population has led even Professor Magnolia to fear that the next decades will finish what Man and the Ice Age started; Grookey, sadly, may not be long for this world.