Envy hadn't slept much lately- whether things were going well or not. Then again... they really never had. There'd always been something keeping them awake, whether it was hunger, or thirst, or just the turmoil of emotions inside of them.

But somewhere along the line, the little creature had been settled on their throne,- perhaps thinking, perhaps worrying, perhaps waiting- and had drifted off. The weasel awoke abruptly with a thrill of terror jolting them awake, unused to the feel of such smooth, cold stone beneath them. They were aching, and cold, and the familiar weakness tugged at their limbs, a familiar knot of hunger in their belly. They looked around, shivering slightly in the cold- and for once the weasel looked almost as skinny and bedraggled as they had before their fight with the Bloodberries.

They were confused, for a moment, at what had woken them; the weasel could have sworn that they'd heard someone calling their name. Then they became aware of the sound of familiar hoofbeats approaching through the sleepy haze still clinging to them. The expression on their gaunt face brightened, and although they knew Pride was already close, they straightened and began to frantically groom their sleep-ruffled fur.

"Pride! I'm here!" They looked up once they were in a more acceptable state, and dropped back down onto their belly, deciding that it made them look a little more relaxed. They hadn't absorbed anything since before their rest, and it showed; they were skinny, fur sticking out where bones jutted beneath, and where they'd lain at odd angles. Just how long had they been asleep?

But they were used to it, and aside from the momentary bout of frantic grooming, they gave no sign of feeling any different.

Speech. Thought.

If there was anything Envy had been expecting, it wasn't this. "A... A gift?" they asked slowly, raising themselves up a little bit like an excited child, the perking of their ears and the twitching of their tail plain to see. Their gaze darted slightly as Pride apologised- they weren't quite sure how to respond. Sure, they'd prefer Pride to stick around forever, to stay close and never leave them... but it wasn't like they could really stop him. As much as they hated it, Pride came and went as he pleased... but hearing the words out of his mouth, that he was sorry... took the weight off the weasel's chest. He wanted to correct it. Perhaps that meant he'd stay closer from now on! That he'd stay with them! Their heart hammered. "Does that mean you'll stay with me from now on?" they asked, trying in vain to keep their voice from sounding too pleading.

The weasel watched then as Pride began to create his gift... The weasel's eyes widened slightly in anticipation, and they watched with bated breath as he dropped a small shard of crystal before them. They looked up at Pride wonderingly. "A child?" they echoed. This was unexpected, and set every quill on their body standing on end. For a moment there was only a baffled numbness, shock creating a void of emotion inside of them. Why? Why was Pride doing this? But at the same time... the little weasel felt a warmth the likes of which they'd never felt before, flooding them. Soon the shock was replaced by excitement and the weasel quickly scampered down the vertical surface of the throne to collect Pride's gift.

When they reached the ground, the weasel picked it up, first in their small paws, cradling it, examining it- so white and pretty that at times it sent flashes of light into their eyes and scattered little flecks onto the world around. Like a magpie, they examined it, and it was clear that the gift was appreciated. They didn't know what to say. Finally when they looked up at Pride, the little face was beaming.

The stone was very pretty and they had half a mind just to keep it in their hoard, but Envy thought about what a child of their own could bring to the kingdom. It could be beautiful like pride, and look like them... only... so much better...

The weasel felt their heart beginning to grow heavy. Not wanting Pride to see it, they looked down towards the stone once again and examined it. But maybe the child could share in some of their problems. Maybe it would understand. And most importantly, it would be theirs to raise and nurture however they wanted. If they so pleased, it would never leave their side.

The weasel's eyes glazed over. The possibilities seemed too good to be true, and yet... they knew, somehow, that whatever the outcome, they'd still be somehow envious. Finally, Envy struggled to speak, but even as they did so, they failed to keep their voice level. It cracked. It was almost too much. "...Why?" they croaked.


Speech. Thought.

Envy listened for a while, little paws grasping onto the jewel that Pride had given them. They listened, first, as Pride told them of stories. They thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, yes! I knew someone a long time ago who told me many stories... of gods and kings," the weasel tittered excitedly. If only Khloros could see them now! They wondered briefly what had happened to the ancient horse, although Envy realized very quickly that they definitely wouldn't miss the stench of living decay. "Could you tell me one?"

They shuddered, turning their attention back to Pride as he continued, only for their heart to sink. As happy as they'd been for Pride's gift, they felt it all quickly draining away. A strange expression crossed their face for a moment, the sparklee in their eyes draining, the edge of their lip twitching. "You... you did?" I... was an afterthought? the weasel found the thought coming up hard in their mind, leaving their gut quivering and hollow. They looked up at Pride. What could they say? Pride wanted them to meet this... 'friend', but Envy found themselves dreading it already. Pride had decided they deserved it and that they were worthy of Pride's child... but despite everything they'd been through, Envy was always the one who came last.

Pride asked if they'd ever raised a child before, and although they'd seen Gembounds born and at least tried to help, they never had. They shook their head, trying to shed the melancholy. "No, I've... never raised a child." And despite everything, Pride would still be leaving. They bitterly wondered if he would be going back to see their new 'friend'. Their insides curled with a feeling of jealousy. I'm his king! he can't just leave me!

They watched as Pride lay down beside the throne, and, struggling to remain calm, Envy bounded after and clambered up onto the deer's back, curling up into a tight little green ball on the deer's shoulderblades.


Speech. Thought.

Envy listened, and as they did so, gently kneaded at Pride's fur with their paws, uncertain of what else to say, or do. Occasionally the weasel would suck in a breath as though about to speak, but then Pride would go on, and they'd fall silent again. They liked hearing the story, but it made them feel inexplicably down. It made them think back to the wolves that they'd met, the gold one and how confident and secure she'd felt in her power. The black one who was too big and strong to worry about them or care. Of course it'd be about a wolf and not someone small like them, someone who had to work for everything they got... but instead the wolf was handed great power on a silver platter.

Envy thought about trying to learn that power for themselves, wondered if they could do it right here and right now, and whether Pride would be impressed. The weasel held their breath, and focused, trying to tap into a new power. But to their surprise, there was no flow of magic to tap into, and after a moment they gave up trying. They might have missed a line or two pf Pride's story because when they looked up, it had taken a turn, and Envy was somewhat baffled. The wolf's power became his downfall and he saw the end. They didn't know if it made them feel better, or worse. The weasel flicked their little tail and listened with round eyes, engaged once again, and meeting Pride's silvery gaze.

"Neither!" The weasel sputtered, sounding horrified. They shot upright on Pride's back, then transferred the fragment of stone from paws to mouth, and finally scampered to his head and once again lay down. "He should look for a way out or some place they can all be safe and then tell them! But then..."

The weasel paused. "Maybe he'd never find one and he'd die alone in a hole just before the flood came out of shame. But if he did... Then the Gembounds he saved would hail him as a king forever!" The weasel twitched excitedly.

Speech. Thought.

Pride's question set Envy fretting again, both their neck and the quills along their head and back straightening up. What should they say? What did Pride want to hear? They panicked, curling up just a little tighter against the comforting curve of the deer's head, and looking down at his fur. They shuffled their paws, twitched their tail as they thought, quills trembling softly. "Well it... it's just..." they stopped, a short pause, quills flattening. "With either of those endings, either way it's just... hopeless. Either way, everyone dies, and in the end, regardless of what he does, everyone will be panicking and suffering. And the wolf would always wonder if he could maybe have helped them, even if he failed a hundred times before. And with my ending, if he died- even if they all died- he'd know he'd tried."

The little weasel tried hard to avoid showing 'weakness'. They tried to make it look like they were tackling the question from a logical standpoint than an emotional one. But somewhere along the line they felt themselves failing. They thought instead of the wolf proudly leading a kingdom of gembounds away from the floodwaters, saving many and becoming a great and noble king- although they couldn't help but feeling themselves sour at the proud image, knowing that the wolf would be able to look far grander than they ever could.

They turned the gem over in their paws, holding it as they would a child- thinking. "There's... enough bad things happening in the caves already without the stories being sad too... And I-... I mean... Don't you think the Kingdom would prefer a happy ending?" The weasel finally finished, letting out a small breath of relief, although they still nervously waited, with bated breath, for Pride's response. "But it's..." they cleared their throat nervously. "...your story, of course."

They wondered for a moment if they should show off- they had a brilliant idea, a wonderful one- one that they were certain Pride would adore, one that they were suddenly ever so proud of. The weasel twitched in excitement, sucking in their breath and beginning to gather their magic together. They felt the warm flow of magic begin to flood them- although it didn't have quite the intended result- and they felt it warm the gem they held in their paws. It seemed to glisten more brightly for a moment- and the weasel was entranced.

Speech. Thought.