    She sat there for a minute before getting up and heading back inside the den, but not before looking in Atchmon's direction. He stopped midway from tearing off the scales of the cockatrice. Looking up at her from the bottom of the hill, with her standing before the entrance. Neither spoke as they both looked at each other from the distance separating them. Rarity hung her head before cantering inside. Atchmon tore into the beast with a bit more fervor, taking some of his frustration out on the carcass. Built from Rarity's hurtful words.