The thought that it was all over was bittersweet. As they settled on the throne, the adrenaline had faded, leaving in its place the leaden ache of exhaustion. Their ears still rang from Blackberry's agonised screams. Half of them was glad that Pride had gone, leaving them at the Throne, whilst the other half ached for the sound of voices to distract them from the fresh, raw trauma.

They allowed themselves a moment to recuperate, even if the silence was deafening, their breaths ringing in their ears, their eyes watery. They told themselves that Pride would be back soon. That it was unlikely they'd have to defend the throne as they'd promised. And soon everything would be back to normal, despite the terrible, awful feelings inside of them.

The goose was dead! That was a good thing.

...Right?

Envy's head had drooped forward. They hadn't realized that exhaustion, and emotion, was getting the better of them until the sound of a voice jerked them back to lucidity. They shook their head, struggling to dispel the rising panic and nausea, their spinning thoughts suddenly reaching breaking point, their breath quickening.

Too much... they thought, looking out fearfully, their eyelids drooping, quills standing on end as fresh waves of adrenaline sent aching, seething fire through their veins. It's all too much....

Envy considered simply leaving the source of the voice to its search. Let them find nothing, and let them leave.

But despite it all, they found themselves getting mechanically to their feet, and pattering out towards the sound. it could be a trap, they reminded themselves, but were too tired to care, their mind too full to come up with a reasonable plan. They just wanted it to be over. Pride would be back soon.

Besides, they had to think of something else. Anything to take their mind away from the awful screams.

The creature that they soon faced was a distraction, at least, but as they padded out into the open the weasel's tired gaze gave away nothing. "Pride is away," they said drily. "What do you want?"

They looked the oddity up and down.

Speech. Thought.

Some guardian you were, Envy thought sourly, but bit their tongue to keep the words from coming out. They clenched their jaw as it continued to speak, sitting upright to listen. They felt their heart flutter again, their quills rising, anger flashing across the surface of their mind like fire.

"You have the wrong Gembound," they said, once they'd gained their composure, although their voice cracked, threatening to break. "Pride and I hunted down a murderer. A goose who... killed and tormented and maimed for fun. It was... it was supposed to be a... a quick death."

They trailed off, evening their breaths, quills rattling as they struggled to describe it without thinking about it. But it was impossible. They laid their ears back flat to blot out the world, but everything was already muffled, the pounding of their heart in their ears drowning out everything.

And yet, they could still hear the screams.

Was this supposed to be a trial?

And then, a sudden, piercing, seething chill of clarity ran down their spine. They narrowed their eyes at the creature, so strange, so malformed. They raised their ears. Suddenly focus came easier.

"Did the black cat send you?" Envy asked, their voice growing shriller. "...Because it's a liar and a traitor."


Speech. Thought.

Envy was quite unable to disguise their relief as Pride appeared, and they pattered over to him, settling beside him as he lay down before clambering back up onto the Throne. They let him take over the explanation, relief visible in the slight relaxation of their long body. They remained strangely silent throughout, adding a small, tired nod at various intervals.

As Pride's magic failed, though, and the guardian instead turned to them, Envy's expression sank, marked suddenly by a lingering expression of horror.

They did not want to show him. They did not want to think about it any more. They wanted to blot it out, and go back to the way things used to be, and forget about this whole, horrible ordeal. Envy stared at the creature as though looking at it for the first time, meeting its gaze, small eyes watery.

Finally they turned away, struggling to close it all off.

"I can't," they forced out.

The exhaustion, the horror of it all. Despite themselves, they felt emotion bleeding from them like a noxious cloud. They sank down onto the Throne, trying to keep it back, trying to keep it to themselves, trying desperately to shove it all back where it belonged.

But they couldn't.

Before they knew it, Envy was sobbing, their blood full of fire and their eyes wide. They heard the death, felt the aftermath as though it was happening again. Their ears rang a steady note. Their stomach clenched tight with nausea even though there was nothing left inside of them to hurl. Their quills trembled violently as they crouched low to the stone like a cornered rat, turning themselves away.

Still their thoughts turned in circles, dodging the point, avoiding looking at it. Yet there were flashes. The first blow, the nauseating scent of blood. The black hole, tearing pieces off of the already mutilated goose.

And the screams-- well, they were constant.

The feeling of guilt was all consuming, the horror eating them alive.

They couldn't deal with this any more. They had to get out of here. The weasel curled up into a tight ball, and not even a moment later, they were gone. When they did not reappear, it became apparent that Envy had fled.

-exit Envy-

Speech. Thought.