"Rare, Rare wake up."

Rarity awoke to Atchmon shaking her sometime in the early morning, before the sun had yet to rise.

Atchmon urged her to move, stating he needed her help. When she asked why, knowing he had plenty of food as it was, Atchmon said he wanted to harvest whatever he could from the river before the rain flooded it all.

Rarity tiredly, and begrudgingly, gathered her supplies for the journey, and they headed out together.

Atchmon seemed distant with her as they traveled. Never saying very much, though he rarely said anything at all on their trips to the river.

Rarity was in no mood to return to the place where she got dumped, but continued on regardless, and gave no thoughts to her mechanical movements. Simply doing her best to ignore the tiredness she felt, and the sleep still stuck in her puffy eyes.

Eventually Atchmon started to break the silence. Giving his own random thoughts to how their worlds were so similar, and yet so different.

His best theory was their worlds had to have been connected by magic portals for thousands of years. If portals opened up all the time, all around the world, and they stayed opened for long enough. Then seeds, pollen, flora, fauna, virtually anything could travel between them and grow!

But, that didn't explain the existence of mythical beings on Rarity's world, and the complete lack on Atchmon's. Perhaps the humans had hunted them all down? So many human myths were centered around feats of strength and prowess, usually from ending the life of mythical creatures and keeping them as trophies.

Maybe they couldn't survive without magic from Equestria. Or maybe they never existed at all, and were actually animals what migrated from his world, then mutated from the magical emissions from Equestria itself.

Perhaps that would explain why so many mythical animals shared so many traits from animals back on his world. But that doesn't really explain how Rarity's world had normal things like rabbits, and squirrels and the like, unless they're simply immune or resistant.

"What if I wasn't resistant, or immune? Could you imagine if I turned into some kind o' giant?" he chuckled, asking behind himself at the white pony following him, though not expecting an answer, he continued on.

'Or a cave troll.' Rarity thought and smirked, as the mental image of a big dumb Atchmon bonked himself over the head with a giant club. She was feeling a little bitter from being woken up so early.

"I've had way too much time to think about this." he smiled sheepishly, after realizing his thoughts ran away from him again.

"Yeah... I don't know..." Rarity only smiled and shrugged, while feeling a bit lethargic. Unable to add to the one-sided conversation.

She only had a basic understanding of Thaumaturgical Biology. Twilight, or even Fluttershy would know far more than she did on the subject. Though she did find it endearing that Atchmon figured out so much on his own, just from his observations. Considering he had no prior knowledge of, or even knowing of the existence of Magic.

They made it to the river campsite shortly, and decided to take a break to eat and recharge before getting to work.

Once she got her energy back, Rarity started to voice her complaints, and felt a few extra hours of sleep was worth going hungry a day or two, a week down the road. Atchmon felt otherwise, and sent her to gather what she could from nearby food-bearing plants, while he fished.

The sun rose quickly as they worked, bringing with it another beautiful, sunny day without a cloud in the sky. Which just made Rarity feel as though the trip was even more of a waste of time and energy.

Rarity returned with a hefty stock of food for them, then left again, and followed the river to check on Atchmon's fish traps.

It was a curiously simple device. Just a bunch of sticks stuck in the muddy riverbed arranged together to make a cage, the lengths of the small branches erected well above the water level.

Some were of various designs. A couple were semicircular spirals, which Atchmon explained in the past that the fish would swim inside to get the bait, then get lost in the spiral, completely unable to find the exit, as they continually swam along the wall of branches. Of course, when he explained that, she watched a cheeky little fish manage to escape, to which Atchmon admitted embarrassedly 'it doesn't work all the time'.

Others were of simpler designs, like squares with a single opening, which funnily seemed to work best. The most complex setup was one where Atchmon tried to build a small dam and 'funnel' the fish into a basket. The only problem was Atchmon couldn't figure out how to make a strong basket for the fish to go in. Until Rarity show him how it's done, though he didn't have the patience for it anymore. Considering he could just spear the fish and be done with it.

However, that didn't keep the fish alive and fresh, which was the advantage of having fish traps, and holding pens.

Rarity brought what mature fish were caught, and brought them back to a holding pen near the campsite. Then started to feed a fire, while watching Atchmon as he bow-fished with practice, precision, and patience, upon a rocky perch near the river.

"Alright! I bet we got enough. You ready to help me clean'em?" he asked. Between what he caught and what Rarity brought him from the traps, they had a dozen to last him. Much lower than he wanted, but it didn't matter.

"But I'll get all icky!" Rarity whined. She was really not looking forward to her least favorite part, the smell of live fish alone was bad enough.

"Consarnit, yes, guttin' fish is nasty work, but if you'll help me we can be done and back home before the rain hits." he explained.

Atchmon had mentioned rain several times before, but so far it'd been the same hot, dry summer day as always. As soon as he saw a few clouds on the horizon nearly a week ago, he immediately started stocking up on food.

"Rain? It doesn't look like it's going to rain today." Rarity disagreed, while looking around the sky and holding up a hoof, as if expecting to feel a raindrop. The sky was partly cloudy from what she could see, and there was a mild breeze earlier that had slowly died down to nothing.

"Trust me it's comin', and it's gonna be a big one." he emphasized.

"How can you tell?" she asked skeptically. Rarity knew the weather over the Everfree was infamous for its unpredictable nature during storm season, and harsh conditions from what Rainbow Dash had told her. How not even the most experienced weather ponies can predict what it'll do next.

"Well, you've heard of the expression 'the calm before the storm', hadn't ya? You notice how 'still' everything's gotten?" he asked her.

"Yes, I have noticed that." she replied, waving a hoof around at the air.

"Well, that sayin' has never been more true than when you're out here. Have ya notice the temperature drop yet?"

Rarity balked at that. After taking a few deep breaths, she realized the air had gotten much cooler than it was an hour ago. "Now that you mention it, I do."

"And surely you've noticed how the air smells, ah, 'wetter' than before?"

True, she did notice the increased moisture, but she just thought that was from the water in the river. Thinking about it made her notice the current was starting to pick up as well! "The river..."

"Yup, that's the other big thing to look for, I can tell this is gonna be a big one. There's a good chance the river's gonna flood all the way up there." he pointed behind them, where there was a noticeable cliff high above. "might even flood overnight." he added.

"I see... okay, I want to help, what do you need me to do?"

"Here, just help me carry some of this back," Atchmon sighed as he slung a few of the hefty fish over her withers, thinking he may as well do it himself once they get home. At least this way they'll be sure to beat the rain back.

Rarity tried not to think about being used as a beast of burden, or the dead fish at her sides. "If we're lucky, this rain'll only last a week, maybe two." Atchmon continued.

"Two weeks!? I've never even heard of a storm lasting for so long." Rarity disheartened.

Atchmon chuckled. "Then you've never had real storm then. Shoot, even back home we'd get some nice summer rain that'd last a couple days on average."

"How do you stop it?" she asked.

"Stops on its own. No magic, 'member?" he shrugged.

Rarity nodded as she did remember humans lacked the ability to manipulate the weather. "Ah, that's right, no magic...hmm, but couldn't your people make a machine to control it for you? From what you've told me about your world, that should be possible, shouldn't it?" she asked curiously.

"Maybe in science fiction, but yeah, that'd be somethin' for sure." he said smiling as he briefly thought of the possibility.

"C'mon we got all we could get, let's go." Atchmon said, and together they soldiered on back home with their new supplies.

The pair traveled together through the forest, as time seemed to quickly pass by, while the clouds became more frequent. The clouds passed under the sun, causing the forest to darken under its shade, before brightening the day once again as they were swept away by the steadily rising wind. The leaves above seemed to roar with every strong gust.

The pair stopped in alarm as a branch snapped above them.

An adolescent manticore dropped down from its perch on a tall tree, landing several yards ahead of them, blocking their path. The beast immediately bared its impressively large fangs. Even if it was half the size of most full grown manticores, that didn't mean it was no less dangerous. Its venom would be more potent, and Atchmon wasn't about to put his own immunity to the test after surviving his first excruciating encounter.

The hunter spent nary a few seconds deciding the best course of action to deal with the predator. He was too loaded down with fish to quickly draw out his bow, which was also strapped to his back. The manticore could easily close the distance in a single bound, before he could ever get it over his shoulder.

He could try to scare it away, but doubted the hungry animal would be deterred from the pungent smell of fish for very long.

His knife it will have to be then... Lungs, heart, kidneys, brain, main arteries... which should be his first target?

Rarity caught sight of Atchmon slowly drawing out his blade.

'He isn't seriously going to- Of course he is... it's all he knows'. Rarity thought, while double taking between Atchmon and the beast in front of them.

The young manticore was readying itself to pounce in time with Atchmon's slow draw of the blade.

'Perhaps I can show him another way. Fluttershy, if I die, it'll be because of your example!'

"Wait." Rarity whispered sharply, while extending a hoof in front of his leg to stop him.

Atchmon froze with his blade barely an inch out of its sheath, and looked down at her with an expression she knew held several curses behind it.

Rarity trotted out in front and sweet talked the hungry beast.

"Hello there, darling. Feeling a little famished, are we?" Rarity said, while forcing as much honey into her voice, as she levitated a few of the more sizable fish off her withers and towards the hungry manticore.

Rarity could almost feel Atchmon's silent protests.

The young manticore growled and shied away at the floating food, but was drawn in by the smell. Rarity dropped the fish from her magic, causing the lion to flinch away, before it approached and took a cautious bite.

The manticore was torn between baring its fangs at them with intimidating growls, and eating its newly acquired meal.

Atchmon and Rarity took a wide berth, keeping an eye on the feasting beast, while it did the same as they circled around each other.

"Now, wasn't that better than fighting?" she asked, looking up to Atchmon. "It doesn't hurt to show a little generosity once in a while."

Atchmon just rolled his eyes and huffed. "Let's jus' hope the rain comes in time to wash away the fish smell, before it decides to follow us home. If not, it's gonna be your problem to deal with." he warned, and moved ahead.

Rarity frowned at that, but from the way the grateful manticore was purring, she hoped that wouldn't be the case. She really hoped.

As they hiked back to the Den, Rarity noticed Atchmon was keeping a constant eye on the trees above them.

I suppose an encounter like that would make anypony a bit paranoid. Rarity thought, and didn't think much else of it, until they made it back to the meadow.

Though it was clear of any trees, which would've concealed any number of monsters, Atchmon still kept his eyes on the sky.

"Expecting another manticore to drop from the sky?" she questioned him in concern, after noticing his slight hesitation before approaching the treeline.

The sky was completely covered by light, grey clouds, making the light dimmer than it was barely and hour ago.

"Jus' got a weird feelin'." he replied thoughtfully, as he scanned the atmosphere, while barely taking half-steps out of the treeline.

Rarity looked between him, and their home, then hopped out into the open meadow. "I'm all for being careful, but I really want to get this saddlebag off me now." Rarity said, while looking behind herself, then trotted out ahead. Only wanting to unload her heavy pack and to rest her sore hooves.

Atchmon followed, but still kept a vigilant eye on the sky.

Rarity could still sense Atchmon's unease, even as they made it to the Den, where they could relax and organize their newly acquired supplies.

The pair made it back just as the sky was beginning to darken. Though it was still midday, the cloudcover caused the temperature to drop rapidly. The cool air felt good, despite the ominus look of the greying sky.

Atchmon busied himself in the garden, trying to harvest what he could, before the worst of the storm hit.

Rarity kept vigil just inside the cave, while Atchmon gathered what he could from his garden. And couldn't help noticing he didn't look at the sky once while he worked.

"I'd love to help you Atchmon, but I really don't want to get wet, or dirty, or step outside the cave for that matter." she called out to him, and shrunk at the first sound of distant thunder.

Atchmon quickly finished his harvest, and brought in a much smaller than normal assortment of vegetables and dried herbs.

He let Rarity levitate the basket of veggies from him, while he hung the herbs in front of the hearth, obscuring the depressive message upon the fireplace he carved just months ago.

'N-v-ER -OI-G -O-E'

Rarity picked up her saddlebags to organize her haul, when she felt an odd shift in weight within one of the bags. "Monty, get out of there. How many times do I have to tell you, that's no place for you to hide." Rarity scolded her little furry friend.

The wolpertinger begrudgingly hopped out of her bags, then lazily hopped around the room, while flitting its tiny wings and sniffing around at the newly acquired harvest.

'Atchmon's right, he's gotten a bit heftier than I remember him being' Rarity thought.

Sniff! Ppptt! Rarity snorted the moment the sharp smell of rosemary hit her senses. Its painfully sharp aroma contradicting the soothing smell of sage next to it.

'I wish we found some more peppermint plant. My breath could use a bit of freshening up, especially after last night. Though I doubt that was the reason Atchmon rejected me.' Rarity thought, and tried to ignore the feelings of hurt bubbling in her chest.

"Sorry you have to put up with the smell, Rarity, I know how much it affects you," Atchmon apologized, as he worked on hanging his fish and herbs around and within the hearth.

In all honesty, the fishy smell was preferable to the sharp, overpowering stench of rosemary. Even a bare hint of it felt like somepony was levitating sewing needles up her nose.

"That's alright, it's really not as bad as I first made it out to be. I think I've grown accustomed to it," she lied, while trying to keep a straight face.

"I jus' hope this storm doesn't last too long, but it probably will." Atchmon stated in his usual disinterested, nonchalant tone.

"Why do you say that?" she questioned, though knowing Everfree storms were more frequent and difficult to handle, based on what Rainbow Dash would tell her about them.

Atchmon was reaching deep inside the 'chimney', trying to find where he could hook his fish within, and smoke them. Which strained his voice as he worked. "Whenever there's been a fairly dry summer for the year, the forest'll have a huge storm to make up for it. The year before last we had a- really bad drought, and I ended up setting half the area on fire." he explained.

"That must've been terrifying, what caused it?" she asked.

"I caused it." Atchmon said simply.

"What!? Why would you do such a thing!? What were you thinking!?" she asked exasperated.

"Ah, if you'd seen the size of the spider I ran into, you would've done the same. Seriously, this thing was as big as this darn cave." he exclaimed, while holding his arms out for scale around their home. "Anyway, luckily the rain came in time to put it out, b'fore it got out of control. It rained for a week straight after that." he added.

"Goodness, I usually can't stand being cooped up for a day, much less a whole week. I'm really not looking forward to that again... What did you do to pass the time?" she asked, hoping to come up with something new they could do together.

"Lots of different things. Mostly I just reenacted some of my favorite stories." he smiled sheepishly.

"I like the ones you've been telling me recently." she complimented, more to watch him turn red from embarrassment.

Atchmon smiled and chuckled in embarrassment, while rubbing the back of his head. Rarity smiled while watching his submissive posture.

"But I really don't care for all the explicitly violent details." she critiqued.

"Story's jus' not as good without a lil fightin' in it." Atchmon shugged. "It's more about the conflict, really." he added.

"I suppose that's true." Rarity admitted, knowing many of her own exciting adventures weren't without a little quarrel or conflict.

Rarity sat silently in deep thought, while Atchmon worked on stoking a fire to dry his fish. Atchmon didn't notice how silent she became, it wasn't like they didn't occasionally spend hours not talking to each other. Most of the time they talked just to break the boredom, or simply neither one of them had anything to say.

The wind outside was steadily picking up, causing the stick-flap to smack hard against the rocky entryway in infrequent intervals. Each time it sent a small breeze of cool wet air into the room. Rarity couldn't help noticing the 'goosey bumps' Atchmon would get in the presence of cold. The dark hair along his arm stood on end, but he kept on working, never acknowledging what was going on around him.

After a long while Rarity finally spoke up.

"Atchmon? I was hoping I could talk to you about something that's been on my mind for the last few days." she started carefully, getting his attention.

"Sure Rare, go ahead." he looked at her, and went back to his work, before stopping completely to listen to her. Satisfied with the progress he made. "Hopefully I've fixed the flooding issue with this, I haven't had a chance to test it since it hasn't really rained much. We're definitely gonna find out this week though." he muttered softly to himself.

Atchmon got himself comfortable by taking a seat on his bed, and leaning against the main mural. "What's up?" he asked, and noticed Rarity wasn't going to join him. Which told him they were about to have another serious talk.

Atchmon couldn't help thinking how sad she looked, sitting on his cave floor, all alone like that. He wanted to hold her, to pet and comfort her, but she wasn't his pet. She was a beautiful, intelligent... And then he clenched his eyes, just as Rarity looked away in thought, and buried his feelings deep down before his thoughts ran away from him again. He couldn't think like that anymore. Not after what happened last night, after the dinner.

"I just wanted to know what our plans are going to be, if we're never rescued. Shouldn't we do something about it?" she asked, more as a suggestion.

"Do somethin'? We are doing somethin', we're survivin'. That's really all we can do." he shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.

"I was just wondering because... it's been a month now, and I just think we should start reconsidering our options." Rarity said, her words gaining strength with each word she spoke.

Atchmon sighed while rising up, and seated himself at the edge of the bed. He hung his head in thought while resting his elbows against his knees.

Rarity couldn't see his face as he rested his forehead against his arms, nor gauge his expression because of it.

After a moment, Atchmon started to shake his head, before raising up to look at her. "I can't Rarity, I just- I can't, okay?" he begged her with a pleading look upon his face.

"Why not?" she asked in irritation. He never wanted to talk about it, only giving the same 'I've tried' and nothing more. "I'm sure we can make the journey if we just try!"

"Because you don't know what's out there like I do." he started evenly with her. "Huge wolves, flying boars, and manticores are one thing. But there's giant spiders, and plants that move like you wouldn't believe..." Atchmon trailed as all the horrors of the past caught up with him.

"But I'm sure we can make it if we follow the river upstream. Many of them flow from, and even pass Canterlot Mountain. I'm confident we'll find our way, if we just follow it." Rarity argued, making her plan sound convincing.

"Oh, the river, yeah, I had the same idea." Atchmon started sarcastically. "I made a raft, once upon a time, just so I could live like ol' Huckleberry Finn. Until I came across a giant 'serpent' thing thrashing around, and tore the crap out of my boat. I turned my butt right around and went back home after that 'little' encounter." Atchmon said with contempt toward the monster who ruined his hard work.

Rarity didn't know who this 'Finn' character was, but what Atchmon described about the serpent was oddly familiar to her.

"Giant serpent?" she whispered thoughtfully. "Did it have purple scales, and an orange colored coiffure?" she asked eagerly, while ignoring the tightness in her chest for using the incorrect color palette she knew the sea serpent possessed.

"A cof- what?" he asked back, while his face contorted. Atchmon was really not in the mood to discuss fashion, as he was suspect the strange word had something to do with.

"Its mane, darling. Did you notice the color of his hair?" she asked, remembering Atchmon's term of words, while waving a hoof around her head.

"Oh... I, ah, I think it did, why?" he asked back, and raised an eyebrow at her in confusion.

Rarity looked to the side in thought. "Steven Magnet, the poor dear must've had another bad mane day." Rarity muttered to herself.

Atchmon took a breath. "Are you tellin' me..." he started slowly, and closed his eyes at the inevitable truth. "That thing has a name, and it can talk?" he finished, looking at her.

"Yes." she answered simply with a nod.

Atchmon hung his head between his knees again at the answer. "Of course it does." he sighed.

"He's a good friend of mine." she continued.

"Of course it is." Atchmon sighed again, while keeping his head down, making his voice sound muffled.

"I'm sure he'll be very sorry for breaking your raft." Rarity started, though her voice lacked much empathy, this wasn't the way she wanted this conversation to go. "And I'm certain he'll ferry us up the river if we ask him, if we find him, that is." Rarity said, while taking a step forward, trying to get him to look at her. But he refused to meet her eyes.

Atchmon rose up with a scoff. "Yeah, that's the question, in't it? IF we find 'em." he echoed sarcastically, while rubbing his face with both hands, clearly looking frustrated for having this conversation again so soon.

Atchmon was right. It was a very big 'if'. The truth of the matter was she hadn't really talked to Steven since Cranky's wedding. And it was very likely he might not be in the Everfree at all. Rarity never asked much about his personal life, and started to feel like a very bad friend for not asking when he'll be near Ponyville, so they could catch up.

Rarity hung her head, completely downcast. He wasn't going to budge, and there wasn't anything she could say to convince him otherwise.

Atchmon started, after noticing her sad look. "Look, as far as I can tell, it's only gonna be a couple months until the anniversary of my getting here. Let's jus' wait until then." he said it more as a decision, rather than a question.

"Atchmon... you've been waiting on that portal to open for years! Don't you think it's time to move on? I promise I'll take care of you, my friends will help you, we'll all support you." Rarity tried desperately to find any reason to convince him to leave with her.

"Why do you want to risk such a dangerous trip anyways?" he asked, ignoring her offers.

Rarity put on a look of dismay. "Because, I'm afraid if I wait any longer, I'm not going to have a life to go back to. My shops are all going to close down, not to mention all the debt I'll owe for not making my payments."

"From what you've told me about your finances, you should have it covered." Atchmon said as a matter of fact.

Rarity wasn't about to be roped into another discussion about how frivulent she was with her Bits again. "I thought you, of all 'people', would know what it feels like to be torn away from everything you know and love." Rarity spoke somberly, in a low voice.

Atchmon looked at her sympathetically. "I do, but the portal could open any day now. I've got a good feeling about this. Let's jus' wait until after the anniversary, and then maybe I'll think about it." Atchmon said with a nod, and hoped giving her a day to look forward to, would satisfy her until then.

It didn't work, and Rarity's face scrunched and flushed red with anger.

Rarity held her hooves to her temples, and shook her head. "I don't want to wait any more!" Rarity started irritably. "I want to go home. Or try to, at the very least." she stated firmly, and pursed her lips.

Atchmon sighed and shook his head. "You'll see, give it a month. Maybe two at the most, and you'll see." he finished, and left it at that.

Rarity couldn't stand the idea of staying in the Everfree for another month, let alone two, or even three. Atchmon's company helped her through so many trying times, but he wasn't a pony, and she desperately needed to be with her friends. Part of her regretted what she was going to say, even before she said it, for it had been on her mind for awhile. And felt it was time Atchmon heard the words of truth, no matter how much it was going to hurt.

Rarity took a breath and told him what he didn't want to hear. "That portal is never going to open. It hasn't-"

"You don't know that!" Atchmon snapped at her.

"But Twilight can help you, I'm confident she'll have the answers!" Rarity argued back, her ears splaying as the pair started to fight.

"Oh, you mean the same Twilight that made the spell what brought you here to begin with? Yeah, she seems to really know her stuff." Atchmon's words dripped with sarcasm.

"That's not fair, and you know it! It was an accident." she argued back.

"Feh." he scoffed.

"Well, what about me? Are you really just going to just leave me behind to fend for myself. To abandon me in my hour of need?" she pleaded with him.

"What!? No, of course not. I mean- god Rarity this is- I don't..." Atchmon stammered, as he struggled justify his decision.

Rarity's frustration finally came to a head, and stomped her hooves as she stood up.

"Ah, ah, oh, fine! Go ahead and see your world again! Then if you have a change of heart, and happen to come back for me, maybe you'll get lucky and not have to deal with me ever again! 'Oh, look. There's poor, weak Rarity getting ripped to shreds!' Isn't survival of the fittest just magic!?" Rarity spat at him, and panted after her little rant.

Atchmon only scoffed and looked away, occasionally holding the back of hand up to cool his burning cheeks.

After a couple minutes Rarity finally calmed down enough to think.

Of the two, Atchmon had more reason than any to be the one to go home first. Rarity could never force him to stay for her. Even though she really wanted him to. She was confident her friends would find her... eventually. But she also knew how lonely she would be during that time. And wasn't a little loneliness worth it for a friend in need?

Rarity thought so.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "It's okay... I don't want to force you to choose between your home and me." Rarity spoke softly, as if accepting her own fate.

Atchmon looked at the melancholy pony, her droopy ears seemed to weigh her down.

"You could come with me." Atchmon echoed in his own soft voice.

Rarity looked at him. "What?" she asked, and hoped to only imagine his words.

Atchmon couldn't meet her eyes, and tried to look at anything beside the hurt look on her face. "You, you know? You could come back with me... to my world." Atchmon repeated, his voice growing more excited the longer he spoke.

Atchmon scooted closer to her. "You'd love it there. There's so many amazing things I could show you! An- and everyone wears clothes, all the time, everyday, you could be the next big fashion star without even tryin'!" he finished excitedly with a bright smile.

Rarity's eyes widened as he spoke, and slowly shook her head in disbelief. Until she couldn't stand to hear anymore.

"What!? Do you really expect me to just leave everything behind!? You can't be serious Atchmon." she cried. "My friends may think I've already perished. I couldn't live with myself, knowing I left them so devastated." Rarity argued back, and could feel droplets forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Why not? If you come with me, we could be set for life in my world. Everyone would pay anything just to get a look at you! Not to mention books and movies about my story of surviving here." Atchmon explained with a wide smile and eyes staying lit, as if it were all coming true before him.

"Our story" she corrected him, with a sour face.

"What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"You meant to say 'our story', didn't you?" she repeated, not believing the sheer level of selfishness before her.

"Oh, well yeah, of course." Atchmon answered with a wave of his hand, as if it were obvious to him now.

Rarity shook her head in disgust and disappointment. Having finally witnessed the worst side of her 'friend'.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing, you... you really are just a selfish, jerk!" she barked at him, and proceeded to fill her saddlebags with necessities. Dozens of various items, engulfed in a blue aura, flew around the den. And all landed inside her bags, quickly stuffing them with necessities.

"If you won't help me then, then I-I'll just have to do it myself!" Rarity stuttered, while trying to hide the pain she felt in her chest, and wiped away her hot tears. Forcing her anger to prevent her eyes from producing any more.

"Fine, go then, I won't stop ya." Atchmon said nonchalantly with a wave of his hand, calling her bluff. And watched as she dawned the leather barding he made for her. The barding fit well enough, and covered her neck in a long collar along with her chest, shoulders, and flanks, which had extra leather pads around those areas. Then finished her equipment by packing the spear as well.

"F-FINE, I will. I-I can't believe I've wasted all this time with someone like you, when I should've been helping myself the whole time! I can't believe I figured it out so late, it's everypony for herself in this forest!" she fired angrily, while glaring daggers into him.

"I got an idea." Atchmon started mockingly. "Why don't you just teleport yourself back? Oh, that's right, you can't! God, if I could do magic, I wouldn't be wastin' my time making clothes. I'd be doing cool shit, like teleporting!" he fired back at her, only to lash out his own hurt. Not wanting to show any weakness. Not wanting to show how much her leaving scared him.

In the past he begged her to show him more magic. Mostly for his own entertainment and curiosity, to which he was sorely disappointed to find out Rarity could only perform a few spells, which all mainly pertained to clothing.

Rarity didn't want to dignify his hurtful words with a response. She knew, that he knew, how hard it was for a unicorn to perform magic. And she knew, he only said it to further hurt her feelings.

Rarity stopped before the entryway, the stick-flap was the only thing standing between her and the start of her journey home. It swayed back and forth with every gentle howl of wind, the cool air sent chills through her coat where her leather barding didn't cover. She stood there with her head held high in determination with her gear loaded down, looking like a survival veteran.

Rarity craned her neck around to look at her former friend, and put on a look of determination.

But Atchmon could see the pain behind her sad eyes.

"Goodbye Atchmon, I truly do hope your portal opens for you. I'm just sorry I won't be there to see you of-." her voice cracked and she faced away with trembling lips and misty eyes, and unwilling to show her weakness, before levitating the stick-flap to the side and galloped away.

"Rarity stop!" Atchmon shouted after her, while pushing himself off the bed, and ducked through the porthole. He stood with his back to the cave entrance at the top of the hill. Watching Rarity's small form as it shrunk away from him.

Rarity went straight as she could, while the strong wind tried to push her aside and buffeted her mane, causing it to whip in her face. The hiss of leaves in the gusts did nothing to diminish the sound of Atchmon's beckons, which forced her to slow to a canter.

"Rarity, get back here!" Atchmon commanded, but Rarity didn't slow her cantered pace.

"This is stupid, don't leave right when it's about to storm!" he yelled to her, "I'm tellin' you, it's gonna be a bad one, RARITY!" he called angrily.

Rarity slowed to a stomping trot, but didn't bother acknowledging him any other way.

"Rarity... don't go." he said softly, too soft for her to hear, yet he held firm. Not allowing his emotions to betray him.

Rarity's sparse ivory coat looked like a white beacon of light and hope, which drained from him the further she ran away.

Rarity gradually slowed her trot, before she finally stopped, just a few yards from the treeline.

Atchmon observed her as she took a few calming breaths, watching her saddlebags expand with her barrel a few times before craning her neck around to look at him. Her gleaming purple mane and tail billowed fully in the wind like a banner, before she turned fully to face him.

The wind died down to almost nothing, allowing her mane to lay calmly at her side, and the forest became eerily quiet.

Atchmon wiped away the moisture in his eyes, and his heart swelled with hope as she started to trot back to him.

Until that hope was snatched away from him, carried away on black wings.

"NOOOO!!!" Atchmon cried in a blood curdling roar.

"Atchmon, heellllp, aaaaaahhhhh!" Rarity screamed as she flew away, watching Atchmon's form run out to meet her, and quickly shrink away.

"RARITY!"

Caaaaaaaw!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Rarity screamed with thrashing limbs, as the ground rapidly shrank away from her, all the while she could feel the firm grasp of the monster's talons along her flanks. If not for her current situation, she would've enjoyed the flight and the view of the forest canopy far below her.

The misty wind obstructed her vision, but she could barely make out the dark figure of the winged beast above her, even as she writhed in its clutches.

Within its black plumage Rarity could see tiny white-blue sparkles, but as she looked closer, those tiny lights were dancing. Miniscule lightning bolts jumped elegantly along the edges of its ebony feathers, from one to another, and between any split openings.

They had many names.

Storm Crows.

Lighting Rocs.

Thunderbirds.

Mythical creatures that thrive within, and precede powerful storms. The Pegasi feared them as an omen of death. The Griffins hunted them for their rare plumage as trophies and decoration, for they never lost their staticky discharge. And the buffalo worshipped them, erecting totems in their honor for bringing precious rain to their lands.

Many believed they are what created storms to begin with. But they usually never come so far inland, choosing to roost on the islands far off the coast of Eastern Equestria, where storms are near ceaseless within the infamous Baymuda Triangle. Unless this was a stray, or perhaps Atchmon was right...

This was going to be a bad storm.

Rarity fought to calm herself, and assess the situation, mainly in fear of being dropped if she proved herself too much a burden for the black fowl to carry.

Every powerful flap of the its wings was like thunder to Rarity's ears, above even the deafening whistle of wind which muted her hearing.

The Thunderbird banked several times around the Arc Tree, the forest canopy below looking like a lumpy green carpet, and Rarity feared it would roost upon its branches. Instead the massive crow-like bird descended to a rocky outcropping. Rarity recognized the geography, and looked around to see if she could spot the Den. And there it was, maybe less than a mile away, she could see the small clearing and the lonely little hill in the center of it.

As they made their descent, Rarity's plan was to make it to the trees, thinking the forest canopy would protect her, and knowing the Thunderbird had to be far too large to pursue her within the tight confines of the Everfree Forest.

The Thunderbird released her from its talon high above the ground.

"Oof!" Rarity misjudged the height, but managed to roll onto her flank, avoiding injury to her legs. A situation she didn't want repeated again, given the circumstance.

The Thunderbird flapped its massive wings as it landed above Rarity, sending strong gusts of wind over her. The dusty debris picked up in the gust nearly blinded her, but she blinked away the dirt in time to see the dark fowl's plumage on full display before her. The static sparks of its feathers grew more intense with each flap of its wings, before it suddenly lunged forward.

"AH!" Rarity rolled to the side, a moment before the crow-like beak struck the ground next to her, leaving a shallow impression upon the dirt.

The impact like thunder to her ears, and could feel the power of its strike through the ground she lay upon.

The missed attack sent a ripple of static lightning throughout its ebony feathered body, beginning at the thunderbird's head and neck, then spread evenly throughout, and ended with a showy display of sparks between the tips of its primaries.

Rarity instinctively knew her leather barding wouldn't protect her from being pulverized. And screamed as she rolled to the other side, dodging a secondary strike.

The Thunderbird cawed in frustration and turned its head to the side, intending to bite her. Rarity wasted no time in levitating her spear out, and lodging it within its beak.

The Thunderbird backed away, angered that it couldn't close its beak around its prey, and thrashed its head around as it futilely tried to loosen the obstruction. The bird finally used a talon to pick out the annoying stick, which split like a toothpick within its mouth.

The beast extended its wings and gave a angry caw at its dinner, as Rarity took her chance and made her escape.

Rarity made a break for the trees, but the rocky, uneven ground slowed her progress as each shifting stone threatened to throw her off balance. That and the fact she was trying to gallop down a steep hill, something ponies generally weren't fond of anyway.

The Thunderbird gave a single powerful flap of its wings, and bounded over its prey, then landed directly in front of her path. Thunderbird then extended its massive black wings, as if to block her escape.

Rarity screamed and nearly fell onto her rump as the massive black crow crashed down in front of her. Rarity quickly threw a sizeable stone at her assailant, which bounced squarely off the Thunderbirds cheek, which only seemed to anger it further.

Rarity then charged as if to gore the beast with her horn. The Thunderbird, sensing danger, promptly jumped back and to the left, in an effort to dodge the attack.

Rarity's bluff worked and she took a sharp turn to the right, opposite the bird's retreat.

Rarity spotted a small, rocky alcove nearby, and dove head-first into the opening. Her plump flanks became stuck between the rocks covering the entrance and struggled to wriggle herself the rest of the way through.

"Come on!" she grunted in frustration, as her mind focused on staying alive.

Rarity's flanks finally gave way, and she turned within the tiny space just in time to see a large black beak spear towards her face!

The Thunderbird struggled to get after her, but its beak was too large to fit through the opening.

The Thunderbird withdrew then half clawed and half pecked at the boulders covering the entrance. Rarity screamed as the black bird shoved its beak between the opening again, this time a bit closer than the last.

Rarity curled herself into a fetal position, in an effort to put as much distance between her and the Thunderbird's deadly, sharp beak.

The bird thrashed at the entrance, its beak getting stuck in the tight opening, but it withdrew and seemed to have given up and gone away after a few seconds of tense silence.

Rarity panted in quick shallow breaths, half through her mouth and half her nose, and tried calm her frayed nerves after the frightening encounter.

The silence after such an ordeal was somehow far more frightening that the ordeal itself. But after a long moment, Rarity hung her head and doubled over in relief while standing on shaking forehooves, as they struggled to hold herself up. After another moment her heart rate slowed, and no longer thudded in her ears.

Rarity slowly poked her head out the tiny alcove. And just as Rarity felt she was safe. Her vision was filled with blackness, while a deafening caw filled her sensitive ears, and she was forcefully pushed back with a scream.

Thankfully the tiny alcove was too small for the Thunderbird's maw to open and grab her, and Rarity's barding protected her from being skewered by the sharp, pointed beak.

The Thunderbird chipped away at the tiny entrance with every peck of its beak, but was making slow progress. The bird of prey tried to force its way in again, twisting its maw back and forth in clockwise and counter motions.

Rarity hugged the back wall as tightly as she could, and felt pain at the back of her head from pushing back so hard, all while the sharp black beak of the Thunderbird bored closer to her chest.

She was trapped.

Rarity clenched her eyes and prayed, and could do nothing but listen to every thunderous strike made against her sanctuary, as it was chipped away bit by bit.

"Please, please Atchmon I'm sorry!" she cried, and begged for her protector to rescue her.

Rarity opened her eyes and screamed just as the Thunderbird's beak was within a mere inch of getting her. Then Rarity felt something flutter out of her bag, and looked just in time to see a brown, blurry streak, as it flutter-hopped up and along the black bird's nose.

The Thunderbird withdrew quickly and cawed out in pain as Monty attacked!

Rarity, having a faint clue on what was happening, took her chance to escape her prison.

What Rarity saw next, she hoped to never forget.

Monty was pumping his little wings as fast as he could while trying to protect his friend and avoid the Thunderbirds snapping beak. He flitted around the massive predator like a hummingbird fighting an eagle.

The little wolpertinger had injured one of the Thunderbird's eyes, as small rivulets of crimson fell from its socket. The little wolpertinger was darting in and out, using guerilla tactics to distract and annoy the much larger predator.

Rarity took her chance to run for the trees once again. She ran until she felt a comfortable distance away, then turned to call her animal companion back to her. The chubby wolpertinger was still putting up a hell of a fight!

"MONTY!" Rarity cheered in fear, amazement, and worry all in one.

In that moment, Monty hesitated at the call of his owner, and was caught between retreat and another attack.

The Thunderbird retaliated in that moment, and Rarity watched in horror as her pet and friend suddenly disappeared within the massive black beak.

The black bird casually ducked its head behind a boulder.

Rarity didn't need to see what was going on, in order to know what was happening to Monty.

Her friend was gone, claimed by the natural order of predator and prey.

"NO!" Rarity cried, while a pain welled in her chest, as all the cuddles, pets, and frustrating little messes flashed in her mind.

The Thunderbird raised its head at her, bright crimson on its ebony beak, and prepared for another assault on its other prey.

Rarity ran again, the treeline looking even further away than before, galloping over the rocks without heed to her own safety. Not wanting Monty's sacrifice to be in vain.

Rarity used her wide peripheral vision to check on her pursuer.

"AH!" Rarity immediately dropped onto her belly to avoid the swooping of the Thunderbird's sharp talons as they passed over just inches above her, then watched as it flew around for another swoop.

Rarity made for the large boulders nearby. They were her last line of defense, for there was nothing between those boulders and the treeline for several dozen yards. A distance Rarity knew she couldn't cross with a flying predator so persistently hunting her.

The big bird roosted above its prey. And a similar situation from earlier unfolded.

Rarity dodged this way and that between the passages of the larger boulders, while trying to avoid the crow's searching beak. Rarity did her best to keep the boulders between herself and the monster after her.

Rarity soon found herself cornered, and the only way out was back towards the beast pursuing her.

The Thunderbird seemed to sense it had won this game of 'cat and mouse' and skulked towards the white mare, blocking any path she could use to escape with its giant wings.

"Let's dance you and I, darling, what do you say!?" Rarity bluffed as she levitated another small boulder, and readied herself for a fight. She struggled to hold it steady within her magical grasp, as fearful tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

The Thunderbird hesitated for a moment, before deciding to call her bluff.

The crow inched forward, its beak open and ready to strike, before a dark shaft suddenly appeared in the side of its neck!

"Get away from her!" Atchmon's voice roared. "Rare, the trees, go!" he called to Rarity as he held the beast at bay.

The Thunderbird assessed the new threat by puffing up its plumage and putting its wings on display, trying to make itself as big as possible. But Atchmon was never fooled, especially after seeing the same trick so many times before, from all different species of animals.

Atchmon always seemed larger than life to Rarity, but the massive bird made him look small by comparison.

Atchmon loosed another arrow, but the Thunderbird quickly grew wise and shielded itself with a wing. The arrow dug deeply into the meat of its wing.

"Atch-" Rarity tried to inform Atchmon of her safety near the trees, but anything else she was going to say was lost in the ear piercing screech of the Thunderbird.

Atchmon clenched his eyes, and tried to cover his ears after receiving a full blast of the painful sound. Atchmon recovered too slowly, allowing the thunderbird time to hurdle over the rocks and quickly close the distance. The human was a much larger target than the pony, less agile, and far slower.

Atchmon turned to run and received a vicious blow for his mistake. Just as he started to retreat, the Storm crow hopped up and raked a razor-sharp talon across his back!

Atchmon cried out and half leaped to get away from his assaulter, causing him to fall forward onto the ground, writhing in pain.

The Thunderbird reared itself back, and Rarity knew it was going to deliver a fatal peck to Atchmon's incapacitated body.

"Stop!" Rarity cried as she charged forward. She was so far from him, knowing she wouldn't make it in time. But her bravery paid off, her white coat caught the remaining eye of the Thunderbird and it screeched at her to stay away.

The distraction was enough for Atchmon to recover his bow and notch another arrow.

Atchmon shakily fired another arrow as he remained laid out on the ground, while doing his best to push through the fiery pain in his back. Even as he drew back on the taunt string of his bow, it felt as though his flesh would tear itself apart.

But the Thunderbird managed to look back just in the nick of time, instinctively reading the trajectory, and dodged before the arrow could pierce its breast.

Atchmon took the opportunity to run again, while the massive bird recovered its footing.

The top-heavy human stumbled and was struck hard by a wing, and was sent flying from the power of its 'backhanded' strike.

"Atchmon!" Rarity watched as his body flew into a nearby boulder, his back impacted the rock first, only for his head to follow in a whiplash, then his limp body fell facedown onto the dirt covered ground.

The thunderbird didn't pay Rarity any mind, now that it had much easier prey to consume, and skulked towards the unconscious form of Atchmon.

Rarity started to feel helpless in that moment, as the unstoppable beast neared her dear friend. There wasn't anything she could do, and that thought chilled her very soul.

Just then, a single memory resurfaced in her mind. Not a particularly fond memory, but they were together. Rarity could remember it so vividly, as she galloped towards Atchmon in desperation, while the memory burned itself into the forefront of her mind.

"What're you gonna do?" Atchmon said mockingly to the white pony pinned underneath himself.

"Let me up, this isn't funny!" Rarity demanded, and started to feel her prey instinct to give up, and go rigid, well up from within herself.

"No, it ain't." Atchmon deadpanned. "You're caught by a wild animal, now what in the hell are you gonna to do about it?" he repeated with a firmer voice.

"You're hurting me!" Rarity lied, but Atchmon wasn't budging this time.

"Dammit Rarity, ya ain't gonna break me. Now do somethin', I don't care what it is."

"I can't! I can't do anything!" she cried, and felt her eyes mist over.

Atchmon didn't berate her after the lesson, but that didn't stop Rarity from feeling disappointed in herself.

Rarity got angry over everything that happened.

She didn't know any destructive spells, and could never find the time to learn a basic attack such as the Magic Beam. A technique she witnessed Starlight Glimmer perfect, prior to escaping after their first encounter together. That should've been Rarity's wake up call, but she only put it on Twilight, and those with the talent, to practice such brutish magic.

Perfecting a spell required a level of finesse most unicorns lacked. Even Twilight usually used her raw Alicorn power to overcharge most spells, but a perfect cast was far more powerful, and energy efficient.

Rarity did have one spell in her arsenal. An Engraving spell, very similar to the Magic Beam, yet smaller in scale and much shorter in range. It was a technique Rarity picked up while attempting some overly ambitious projects, but also doubled as a fallback if her career in fashion didn't take off. At the very least she'd be an excellent jeweler.

It takes a unicorn with an expert level of skill in fine-precision magic to succeed in using that kind of spell.

But Rarity was a Master of it!

Fury and rage burned like a firestorm in her heart and mind. She could feel the mass of magical energy culminating at the base of her horn. The pressure grew unbearably intense, and Rarity wanted nothing more than to unleash it all at once!

She was sick of being so weak, of being so small that everything was bigger and stronger than her.

Rarity wanted to lash out, because now, that beast had taken one friend from her. And with Celestia as her witness, she wasn't about to let it take another!

Rarity barely heard the subtle whir of magic powering along her horn, as her rage tunneled her vision into a single solitary point upon the beast. Then, in an instant, that fiery rage was quelched by an icy cold, and calm focus. A state of mind needed to properly cast the spell.

The spell fired forth from her horn, the sound of hyper-dense magic cut through the air like a thunderclap. Leaving the smell of ozone in its wake. Rarity could feel the intense warmth of magical energy quickly overheat her ivory spire, to the point it felt as though it were searing her mind.

The spell was like a needle puncturing through fabric. Rarity could feel her attack connect with the Thunderbird's flesh. She didn't know whether or not it was enough to cause serious harm, but she did know it was going to hurt, a lot. As was proven by the pained shrieks of her enemy. The beam sliced clean through the bird's thick feathers, leaving a visible trail along its ebony body. The Thunderbird took off with a single powerful thrust of its wings, and flew away to the east; back towards the ocean.

Rarity watched with vengeance, ignoring the glowing red tip of her horn, as the beast made a cowardly retreat towards the dark grey sky.

Krrrack-POW! A thunderbolt flashed, and temporarily blinded her a moment.

Rarity blinked away the brightness, and stood bewildered as she watched the smoldering remains of the Thunderbird fall from the sky in a heap of smoldering down, its corpse lost within the Everfree Forest.

It seemed karma was on her side today. Until Rarity remembered some of Atchmon's 'good' arrows were made of, and tipped with metal.

"Atchmon!" Rarity rushed to her friend's side, and hesitated at the state he was in. There was a crimson spot at the back of his head, but at least he was still breathing. The blow to his head was nothing compared to the gash across his left shoulder blade, which bled steadily.

An image flashed in Rarity's mind of Atchmon's harrowing survival story painted upon his cave wall, and she could still feel the waning heat radiating off her horn upon her face. Rarity hesitated a moment at what she believed she needed to do. Then swiftly and carefully positioned her ivory spire near where she believed the bleeding was the worst. Then eased her horn forward, not wanting to gouge her already injured companion, while pushing her discomfort aside as she listened to the sharp hiss of the cauterizing wound.

That seemed to slow the bleeding, but didn't stop it entirely. He wasn't out of the metaphorical woods yet.

Another flash caught Rarity's eye, and she looked in time to witness another bolt of lighting, only this time it touched the Everfree with a mighty crash and boom, and watched as debris and sparks fountained out of the forest.

She looked around for shelter, but doubted the rocky outcropping provided anything better than the tiny alcove which saved her life, yet was only for her size.

She needed to get Atchmon out of there.

Rarity placed her hooves along his side, and shook him bodily. "Atchmon. Atchmon, wake up! Wake up, we have to get out of here." It was no good, he was out cold.

Rarity's eyes darted around the landscape, and she could see the clearing just to the southeast from her position.

"Don't worry, I'll get us home!" Rarity reassured him, though she knew he couldn't hear her, it just felt better talking to him like he could.

"Please goddesses help us get home." she prayed, despite the ominous look of the heavens. And pulled out the rope from her saddlebags.

The rain started to fall, as the clouds took on every shade of grey all the way towards the eastern horizon, which was nearly dark as pitch.

The worst of the storm had yet to come.

Rarity soon found a familiar path and followed it home with Atchmon strapped to her back. It took a considerable amount of effort to hoist him atop herself, but she managed without wasting too much time.

She strapped his midsection to her flanks to keep him from sliding off. His long arms and legs dragged along the ground, while his head rested against her neck and shoulder.

"C'mon Rarity, you can do this! If you can carry a heavy boulder like Tom around on your back, then you can certainly carry him!" she encouraged herself, and focused on placing one hoof in front of the other.

'Your dying friend.' A venomous part of her mind whispered.

"He's not going to die! Do you hear me!? Oh, please don't die..." she rebutted against her subconscious.

Rarity's body felt numb from the exertion, but kept focused on the mass atop her back, and the mechanical steps of her hooves.

She persistently endured against the elements, while the cold rain pattered against her face, yet her barding managed to keep her mostly warm and dry. But she worried most for Atchmon, who'd foregone his furred vest in order to quickly find and save her.

The furless human laid unconscious, wet, and half naked on her back, while his long arms hung limply at her sides, and dragging in the dirt. Rarity accidentally stepped on his fingers, tripping over them, and immediately sending her falling into the muddy ground from the sudden shift in weight.

She struggled to breathe with Atchmon's heavy body lying atop her back. With great strain and shaking hooves, she picked up herself and Atchmon, then readjusted his position atop her back so that he rested more comfortably against her. And she continued on, step by arduous step, doing her best not to repeat the same mistake.

Atchmon's titanic height proved just as much of a burden. His legs alone were as long as Rarity's whole body, which caused his boots to drag across, and occasionally get hooked on any exposed roots. Rarity just had to push harder whenever she felt Atchmon's weight shifting back from the drag.

It felt like forever before Rarity could finally see the clearing through the treeline leading into the meadow. She smiled, knowing the hardship was almost over. But as she looked on across that wide open space, her fear and dread rose quickly as the memory of the recent animal attack resurfaced. The lonely hill in the middle of the open meadow appeared to stretch further away from her.

Rarity felt her hooves shake uncontrollably, whether from fear, exhaustion, or cold, she couldn't tell. She closed her eyes and looked away in shame, while trying to mentally motivate herself to keep moving, to overcome her cowardice. Rarity opened her eyes and saw Atchmon's face beside hers.

The human looked as though he were sleeping peacefully beside her, and if he wasn't so injured, Rarity could believe that's just what he was doing.

She nuzzled his oil-slick head, and sent one last prayer of protection to the goddesses and her friends to keep them safe, then put on a determined look, before taking a step into the open meadow.

Rarity's hooves threatened to give out on her with every step, even as her hooves sank into the muddy earth, but she kept going forward while focusing on the entryway into the Den.

The wind blew the cold rain with such force it stung her face. The fat droplets beat against her exposed hide, and soaked her to the bone, while feeling the adding weight of her damp mane and tail. As if the storm was trying to hinder her in any way it could.

The storm grew even more intense as she ascended up the hill, as if the Everfree itself wanted her to fail at the last possible moment.

Rarity stood before the entryway and magicked the stick-flap up, feeling a sharp migraine from over exerting her magic, then with hurried steps she entered the domain of their home. Their sanctuary seemed to magically erase the burden brought upon them by the storm, which had wrought on her the whole journey there, and finally offered respite.

Rarity turned her aching little body lengthwise against the bed, and undid the rope holding Atchmon to her. Then allowed his weight to roll off her back, and Rarity fell with him, as she collapsed from exhaustion beside her human. Rarity caught her breath as she listened to the ever increasing howls of wind, and the occasional roll of thunder.

After a few minutes rest, Rarity picked herself back up on shaking legs to check on Atchmon.

"Atchmon. Atchmon we made it!" Rarity said excitedly, as she shook him again, but he gave no reaction and her worry spiked. Rarity's eyes darted over his face before rolling him over towards herself, just to get a look at his injury. This left the human laying half off the bedding, with his head at the foot of the bed, and his left arm and leg hanging off the side.

Atchmon's blood slowly oozed from the wound on his back. There was so much of it. It smelled richer than the usual copper scent she was familiar with.

If Atchmon had been a pegasus, no doubt the resplendent wing on his back would've been severed, as it looked now. And she felt a little sad the work of art would be forever ruined.

Rarity knew what she had to do, as she eyed the gaping scar in his back, and levitated the sewing kit out from her saddlebags, and feeling a pressure behind her eyes that wasn't there before.

She did her best to ignore this feeling, knowing simple levitation wasn't going to cause her any more harm.

At first she tried to telekinetically hold the wound together, but stopped shortly as her migraine swelled from the extra effort.

Atchmon's body resisted her magic, as she tried to 'pinch' the wound together, only to watch as her magical aura glided across his skin. A given, considering larger beings were typically more resilient to magic.

Rarity lifted both her hooves, while forming an idea on how best to go about stitching his wound together, and hesitated when she saw how muddy they were.

The last thing she wanted to do was cause an infection.

Rarity bounded to the Den's entrance, ignoring her body's tiredness, and hesitated for a moment, before flinging open the stick-flap. She rushed down the hill, while taking quick glances towards the sky, looking for any signs of a black silhouette flying among the dark, grey clouds.

A raindrop landed directly into her eye and she lost her balance, causing her to trip over a forehoof and skidded the rest of the way down the short hill.

"Ponyfeathers!" Rarity cursed, while getting back up, ignoring the fresh scrape along her foreleg.

"Sugarcubes!" she cursed again, noticing how much dirtier she'd become after her little spill.

She quickly levitated the covering off the first water vase and discarded it to the side, then stuck her foreleg inside to clean off the dirt. The opening was too narrow for her to stick the other foreleg in, and in her frustration Rarity kicked open a larger hole for herself, breaking the upper half of the vase. Her insides twisted for damaging Atchmon's precious property, but the feeling was overshadowed by her desperation to save his life.

After washing her hooves and chest of all the dirt, she unbuckled her saddlebags and dumped all of its contents but the canteen onto the ground.

Then used her saddlebags as a makeshift covering for her hooves to prevent them from getting dirty again.

Once she was beside Atchmon again, she flung off her bags and washed one last time with the water from her canteen, and used about a quarter of it to rinse out his wound. The rain itself had done a good enough job on its own, but Rarity wanted to be sure.

A tiny part of her mind saw this as a bastardization of her craft. But that was squashed by the fact her knowledge was going to save a life for a change, rather than emotionally improve it.

"What, how should I..." Rarity muttered to herself, as her mind raced to decide what technique to use.

Backstitch, topstitch, cross stitch, double-over stitch, blanket stitch, buttonhole... A tack stitch would work great, if it can hold together, and not come undone, which is why it's meant to be removed later.

This wasn't fabric... this was living flesh. It would need a special kind of stitching. She's seen Atchmon do it before, with a loose definition of 'seen'. But her own vast experience hindered her aid.

Kkkrrraah-BOOM!

The relentless thunder outside steadily increased its onslaught. The volume of which shook the very ground beneath her, and vibrated the various trinkets around the Den. Their tinkling sounds added to the symphony of the storm.

Atchmon was right, this was nothing, nothing at all compared to the storms she's ever experienced, as lighting fell as frequently as rain.

Rarity thought of Atchmon's anatomy, of how his body moved and stretched, and saw in her mind so vividly how he used his arms to push against his bow, and pull on the string, and raised to take aim.

She used her experience as a tailor to decide how best to close the wound, without fear of it tearing from activity.

The stick-flap flew erratically behind her, before being torn way! Bringing with it a torrent of wind and mist, which threatened to suction Rarity back outside. Rarity threw herself onto Atchmon, and held on as she stitched his wound.

The sound of howling wind filled her ears. The bright, white flashes of lightning illuminated the entirety of the cave in an instant, making the luminescence of her horn seem little more than a mere candle, and brought with it an earth shattering roar!

Kr-BOOOM!

BOOM-Ba-BOOM-krrraaah-boom!

Her panic subsided with every crashing sound of the storm as she worked.

Needle in, needle out, twist, tie, and cut. Again, and again until the entire length of the wound was painstakingly closed, and the bleeding had ceased. Rarity stopped counting after twenty-three, as her concentration focused more on her technique.

In.

Out.

Twist.

Tie.

Cut.

Repeat.

Until it was finally done.

Rarity rose up to examine her work, and almost wept for what she had done to her friend. The stitching looked like something akin to Frankenpony's monster. She nuzzled around his neck in a poor attempt to apologize for her ghastly work, and balked. Rarity pressed her snout to Atchmon's forehead and stepped back.

"So cold..." she whispered, and immediately covered him with a fur blanket.

Now that she was done, and Atchmon was out of any danger, Rarity could concentrate on fixing the other large problem in the room. And looked for a way to cover the open entryway, as the wind buffeted her mane, and the rain easily sprayed through the porthole. Filling the cave with wet mist, and tiny rivulets that ran from the entrance to underneath Atchmon's bed, where he kept most of his food supply.

The rain became nothing but white noise to her ears, and every crack of lightning and every boom of thunder became a symphonious melody of highs and lows.

GLOWING 1000 DEGREE UNICORN HORN vs one Thundery boi!

Gave this a quick and dirty Edit. Lemme know of any big mistakes.

I've been really looking forward to getting this chapter out. The stitching scene was one of the five original idea I had before starting the story. And the Thunderbird has been one of my favorite legends growing up. I almost wanted to let it get away, just so not every animal they encounter is going to die, but felt the irony of the lighting strike was pretty funny.

It feels weird seeing it all written out. In my mind, it plays much like a movie, each scene skips and moves on to the next important image. So seeing it in text feels like it's taking too long to get there.

I hope you all enjoyed this installment of Jewel of the Everfree. And thank you again for all your praise and support!