Sweetie Belle sat perfectly still. Every fiber of her body was tense and coiled. The wraithbone blades that were protruding from her back hovered in the air, just waiting to move on her order.

Before her, lay her target. A small, unsuspecting animal that would make for a decent meal. It knew she was here, but had no idea where.

The poor thing.

A blade shot forward, and the hunt ended in a moment. Sweetie Belle loosed a breath, before she withdrew her blade, bringing the skewered animal with it.

She raised it above her, before three more blades grew from her back, coaxed forward by the soft humming of her voice. Together, they lifted her up into the air, and she began her short trek back to camp.

Button, who sat on her head, chirped.

“No, I’m not mad,” she said, anger edging into her voice.

Button chirped again.

“I don’t care if I sound unconvincing. I’m not mad.”

Button sat on her head, before chirping once more.

“I am not mad,” she insisted. “Not that it matters. After all, I have a right to be angry after all this. Sending me out as if I were some kind of hunting dog by Oraban is certainly not a waste of my talents. Not to mention how he oh-so-nicely decided that he should just leave me for thirty years.”

Button gave a tiny trill.

“Yes, I am still on about that! Most of my life has been spent waiting on him! He was of galavanting across this dumb jungle while I had to got through one of the most painful experiences in my life! Have you ever had your skeleton replaced with wraithbone? It burns! Did he stick around to give me a word of support? No! Nothing! I didn’t even get a goodbye!”

She paused, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “No, I’m not mad.”

Button remained unconvinced.

Sweetie Belle grumbled as she moved through the jungle, letting her long, wraithbone legs move her through the air with ease. Finally, she made it back to camp, where Oraban sat beside a small fire.

The unicorn dropped lower to the ground, still not letting her hooves touch the mud, before the long bladed handed the small creature over to him.

Oraban took it. “Thank you,” he psychically said, much in the same way you would say “good boy” to a dog.

Sweetie Belle ground her teeth, but said nothing.

He took the creature and quickly skinned it, before tearing the meat apart and tossing it into a small wraithbone bowl that Sweetie had made for him. As he began to cook a stew, Sweetie meanwhile checked their surroundings, searching every tree for any sign of a possible interruption.

Finding none, she returned to the small fire pit, and waited for her meal.

“You have done exceptionally well, Sweetie Belle. I am most pleased with your efforts.”

“Bla-bla-blah! I am most pleased with your efforts!” Sweetie Belle mentally mocked. “You should now love me because I gave you a compliment! Nuh-nuh nuh-nu! An actual ‘thank you’ or ‘good job’ is below me!”

“Thank you,” she said graciously, keeping her thoughts shrouded.

“I simply made a wise decision in keeping you,” he replied.

“See! He was complimenting himself rather than actually saying I did well,” she mentally growled.

Button chirped, on her head.

“I don’t care if every other Eldar I’ve met has done the same thing! Oraban has no right!” she thought, venomously.

But not once did she speak. Not once did she open her mouth. She maintained the Ranger’s precious silence as he cooked.

With the stew almost done, Oraban looked up towards his companion and gave her a look. “No questions?”

“No,” she replied.

“Odd. Did you find answers?”

“I did. Farseer Elahina had shared some information with me, and had the patience to sit and read some of your more ancient texts to me. It has been most enlightening.”

“Ah, good,” Oraban said. “Answering you was becoming tiresome.”

“Well I’m glad you approve,” she mocked.

“Enjoy your meal,” Oraban instructed, handing her a smaller bowl of the stew. “We move tonight. Heading towards the northern pole.”

She took it, and quietly enjoyed her meal.

In silence.

Just the way Oraban wanted it.

Sweetie Belle hovered in the air, with her four wraithbone arms holding her above the scene beneath her.

Four humans, each with those bronze axes she barely remembered, were gathered along the jungle floor, poking about with their spears and searching for something.

The Eldar and Unicorn had both been walking along Oraban’s path when they heard the humans tumbling through the underbrush. Taking to the trees, the pair waited, the Ranger preparing his rifle while Sweetie approached as quietly as possible to try and read their minds and their motives.

“They’re just looking for food,” Sweetie Belle said, speaking silently to Oraban after catching their thoughts.

The Eldar was a few meters above her and to the left, aiming down at the scope of his long rifle. “It doesn’t matter, it’s too great a risk.”

“What?! But they just want food. They don’t even want to be in this part of the forest.”

“Too dangerous,” Oraban insisted, as he leveled his firearm.

“We are miles away from the gate! Just let them get some food, and they’ll head back!”

“I cannot risk a chance.”

“You don’t need to do this!” She yelled, unheard by the humans beneath her.

“You don’t get a voice in this matter.”

“And why not?! You sent me down here!”

The only answer she got was the nearly silent report of the rifle.

A man went down screaming.

“Oraban!” she yelled, before she leapt up the tree, coming level with him.

The ranger got a second shot off before Sweetie Belle rammed into him, throwing off his aim, and saving the life of the third human.

“Sweetie Belle! What are you doing?” Oraban said, using his voice as he was caught off guard. He threw her off of himself, and tried to take aim, only to find the remaining humans long gone. “Wonderful! Now they know we’re here! I hope you’re happy!” He spat angrily.

“They know something is here, but they’ve know that for centuries!” Sweetie Belle retorted. “You had no reason to kill them.”

“The protection of my people is reason enough.”

“Oh, come off it!” Sweetie Belle said. “If those four had even seen the webway gate, they would have assumed it was some sort of evil thing and would have avoided it! No, your ‘reason’ is that your nose is so high in the air, it breaches the atmosphere!”

“What are you talking about?” Oraban asked.

“That’s been the problem of your entire race!” Sweetie Belle spat. “Ten thousand years ago, whenever your kind approaches the Imperium of Man, you can’t ever swallow your pride for five seconds to enter proper negotiations! If you had, then you would have them as allies! You would have your maiden worlds! You would have an army at your back! Instead, your kind chose to haughty glare down at them, as if you had options!”

“Be silent, beast!” Oraban yelled. “We tried to save those miserable creatures from themselves, and instead, the Phoenician attacked Farseer Eldrad Ulthran of Ulthwé! They betrayed us first!”

“Because She Who Thirsts turned the Emperor’s sons against each other, and I know I don’t need to remind you who is responsible for her.”

Oraban scoffed. “You know not of what you speak.”

“Oh don’t I?” Sweetie Belle asked. “So everything Farseer Elahina told me was a lie?”

Oraban did not answer.

Sweetie Belle snorted. “You see, if there is any power greater than the warp, it is the pride of the Eldar.”

“It is not pride, it is fact,” Oraban said.

“I don’t care if you are a more advanced race! You don’t need to rub it in our faces all the time!”

“All this is, is a vermin sympathizing for vermin!”

“Vermin!” Sweetie roared, as her eyes began to glow. “Then let me show you the power of vermin!”

There was a crack of thunder, and Sweetie Belle began to float. Psychic energy and magic roared around, and Oraban quickly became uncomfortable. The temperature plummeted around her, and ice crystals formed in the air, crackling as they snapped into existence. A foul stench filled the air, and the undergrowth around her withered and died.

Oraban backed away slowly.

The earth groaned, and shook, and Oraban was almost forced to the ground. The air grew thin, and the Eldar could hardly breath.

And then her psychic might was unleashed.

Thirty years is not much time for an Eldar. The long-lived species barely see a decade as any decent amount of time, which is compounded by their own metabolism and mental speed. Yet, in this moment, as Sweetie Belle forced him to feel every slight against her, those thirty years were seen through her eyes, and they were her entire life. Every backhanded comment, every insult, every time she was referred to as a mere pet, became agonizingly slow.

“That’s not bad, for a beast.”

“You call this art? This is hideous even by your standards.”

“I know you uncivilized things don’t understand this, but we do things in a different way here.”

“Begone, creature.”

“Animal.”

“Vermin sympathizing for vermin!”

It stabbed at him, every time.

And then there was the burn. The teeth-gnashing, stomach-wrenching burn that tore at his bones as they were slowly replaced with a skeleton of wraithbone. The space-cold, burning fire that spread through his mind and body caused him to retch, but once he did he knew not whether that was real.

And then, even as the waves of pain crashed on him, beating down again and again, a roar echoed in his mind. “Do you see? Do you see what you have done to me?”

He screamed.

He tried to shut out the pain, tried to push it back.

But he could not.

And then the burning stopped.

He sucked in a deep breath of air and mud, before sputtering, and pushing himself up.

He lay there, in the mud, and looked around the empty clearing.

“Sweetie Belle?” he muttered, looking around.

She did not answer.

“Sweetie Belle?”

No answer.

He got back up onto his feet, and felt his heart burn.

Such emotion, such raw emotion.

“Sweetie Belle?”

Still nothing.

The gate. The one thing he remembered from the whirlpool of thought was an echo of the webway gate. He grabbed his rifle and ignored the bodies of the men he killed around him, heading off towards the portal. “Sweetie Belle! Wait! I’m sorry!”

No answer came from the jungle.

“I’m sorry!”

Sweetie Belle moved through the forest, a scowl on her face. Let She Who Thirsts take that fool of a Ranger, she was going back to Alaitoc.

As she moved, she began practicing her heart-breaking speech about how poor Oraban was killed, and how she was a poor little creature wandering back to the one home she knew. It would work perfectly, up until the point where Oraban came back to re-supply.

Button stood on her head, looking down at her scowl as she spider-climbed from tree to tree. He didn’t like the scowl on her face, and he certainly didn’t like how her anger reverberated in the psycho-plastic that made her arms.

He chirped.

“I’m not angry,” she answered. “Not anymore. Oraban can’t bother me anymore, he’s just going to stay here, where he can’t bother me.”

Another chirp.

“Yes, it’s a good idea. What part of leaving the galaxy’s most arrogant Eldar behind seems like a bad idea?”

He gave a tiny trill.

“It’s his fault. I can only take so much of this whole ‘you are intrinsically worthless, but since we’ve helped you, you now have value’ thing.”

Another, shorter chirp.

“Yes, I’m sure! I don’t care what happens to him.”

Another chirp.

“Yes, I don’t care. Not at all.”

Button gave a tiny squeak.

“Not at all.”

The Warp spider gave the equivalent of a sigh, before he walked down to stare her directly in the face, and gave a shrill chirp as his ultimatum.

“What?! What do you mean I owe him?! I don’t owe him anything!”

Button chirped again.

“But-but...s-so what! So what if he saved my life? He was doing it just so he could save his life! It doesn’t count!”

Button looked at her with his tiny, little black eyes, and he was very unimpressed.

“But he—But I—He…” she began,

Button stared back.

“Raaagh! Fine! You win!” she said, before turning around. “He is so lucky you are on his side.”

“Sweetie Belle?! Sweetie Belle?!” Oraban yelled as he moved through the jungle.

A part of him told him to be silent, this yelling and running was going to get him spotted. The rest of him, however, was something else. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he could not bring it under control. His soul ached with the pain of Sweetie’s frustration, and his mind echoed the agony.

His emotions were running wild. A thousand times more intense than that of a human’s, the Eldar could feel every twinge in her being as though they were his own bones snapping in half. In but a single move, the little unicorn had shattered every ounce of control he had.

And now he felt closer to She who thirsts more than ever before.

His mind screamed at him to breathe, to slow down, to collect himself before he crossed a line that he could not recover from.

But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t until he made this right.

“Sweetie Belle?!” He yelled again. “Where are you?! Please! Please, I’m sorry!”

There was no answer. The trees were simply too thick, blocking the sound. He knew that, but he just kept screaming, hoping beyond hope to get her attention.

He just needed to—

A maw of teeth snapped up out of the branches, and if it were not for his speed and a quick jump, he would have instantly become food.

He spun around, raising his rifle on instinct as the thing spun into view. A long, snake like body, with a large, feline head now staring at him. The striped body slowly coiled on itself, and Oraban quickly found himself staring down a Tigerconda.

His brain gave him a good “I told you so,” before he focused on his enemy, and trying desperately to calm his soul.

The snake-cat struck again, and Oraban spun to the side, drawing his wraithbone knife and striking in a single, fluid motion. The blade merely scraped against the creature’s scales, and blood began to ooze out its side.

A superficial cut, easily.

“Oh...where is she?” he thought, searching the forest around him as his mind screamed at him to focus on the fight.

The tigerconda hissed, before striking again, it’s long, poisoned fangs coming within inches of Oraban. The Eldar leapt sideways, avoiding the bite just enough to save his flesh, but not his rifle.

The rifle was knocked aside, and once more Oraban’s mind told him to pay attention.

But he couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

The knife spun in his hand, stabbing down into the monster’s body again and again, even with his mind being a thousand miles away.

And then everything went wrong.

Teeth ripped through the armor on his arm, and bit into his flesh, and the very next second, his body was surrounded by powerful, rippling muscle. The tigerconda’s powerful grasp pinned his arms to his body, and rendered his knife useless.

The furless, feline head released his arm and raised up to stare him in the eye. He struggled against the tight, constricting muscle of the the monster, but couldn’t move.

The creature smiled, and bared its teeth, grinning at its soon-to-be-meal.

Oraban held his breath, choosing not to breathe for the time being. He could hold it for an hour or two, and keep the monster from squeezing him to death, but he did not have much choice. Tigercondas were perfectly patient, it would wait.

He was going to die.

He was going to die and his soul stone would lay here, abandoned on this planet, until it was crushed under foot, and his soul was forfeit.

Yet somehow, even as his world was ending, he just couldn’t help but think of Sweetie Belle.

The logical part if his mind simply sighed. She really messed us up.

The snake monsters hissed, still baring its teeth, when suddenly the muscles went slack.

The head of the tigerconda dropped, and blood oozed from the stump of its neck.

Sweetie Belle stood behind it, two long, wraithbone blades protruding from her back.

The coils of the snake fell away, split down along a single line, and released the ranger from the death grip.

“Sweetie Belle!” he cried, joy filling his voice.

She responded with a deadpan glare. “You’re lucky Button likes yo-ah!”

The ranger wrapped her completely in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry!”

Sweetie Belle blinked, before the wraithbone blades slowly disappeared into her back. Oraban simply held her, not letting her go as emotion radiated from him.

And, slowly, very, very slowly, she brought her hooves up, and hugged him back.

“I’m so, sorry, Sweetie Belle.”

It took him a short while, but he soon calmed down. He finally could breathe, and think clearly now.

They agreed that perhaps it was best if she did not force her emotions onto other Eldar, and Oraban said in return he would act like Sweetie Belle was an equal.

She was slightly apprehensive to his use of the word “act” but it was a step in the right direction.

They continued on, heading North again in the silence that had become so familiar.

Yet this time...this time it felt lighter.

Sweetie Belle actually found herself smiling.

They were able to go three days, moving at an excellent pace, before Oraban suddenly stopped, and cursed.

“What? What is it?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I just received a message from Farseer Elahina,” Oraban told her.

“What is it?”

“It’s a cry for help.”

“Forgiveness is a sign of weakness.”—Imperial Thought of the Day.

Alright, guys. I was feeling a little better about this chapter, and it helped I wasn’t being distracted by everything every three minutes. You know, like Christmas, Boxing day—

“Subnautica!”

Not helping, Pinkie.

“Sorry! I can’t hear you over the water in my ears!”

Hilarious.

“Alrighty-artichoke-ies! We’ll see you all next time!”

Bye!