    Rarity's heart beat in her chest after learning of Atchmon's hardships, shifting back slightly to take in the whole mural. She gazed over it once more before landing on Atchmon's back, which faced her. He had sheathed his blade, placing it and the whetstone on the tiny table next to the bed. As Rarity looked upon him she couldn't help but think how pathetic he looked. No, not pathetic... alone, he looked alone.