"My glaive hungers for blood!"
A sudden rumbling sound emanated from Arty's stomach, and Stella fought to stifle her laughter as her friend froze in the middle of her purposefully dramatic pose, katana held skyward.
"That…was my glaive."
Stella couldn't contain it any longer and roared with laughter, and Artemis glared at her with such ferocity that the very air between them seemed to turn to ash. When the other didn't react, she huffed and stabbed her sword into the ground before kicking the blade unceremoniously. A fire blazed into life between them as Stella forced her laughter under control and Artemis sat down before yanking some food from amongst her pile of gear.
"I really don't get you sometimes Arty. Riley makes you that awesome sword and you go and name it something cheesy. Sure, the ones we've unearthed around the planet sound just as cliché, but don't you think that 'Cursed Glaive: Eclipse' is taking that trend a little too far? Why not stick to the planet's trend and use 'Ethereal Glaive' instead? It is Thermal after all."
"I already told you Stel. Hell, you were there when I named the damn thing. And I don't think I need to explain my lineage yet again."
"Yeah yeah, Ragnarok's right around the corner, I've heard that one before. And let's not forget that time when Riley wanted to nickname you Luna."
"Only thing I hate more than that name is the stupid jokes he keeps making."
"Don't remind me. You got the food there? I'm starving."
Arty dug around in the pile again and threw a ration pack over to Stella, who caught it before tearing the packet open and digging in.
"Thanks. Gods, it been ages since I had to eat one of these. But we'll be feasting for weeks if the hunt goes well."
"I just hope that Kiernan can cook it all. Poor girl's not gonna be able to catch a break when we haul an entire goddamn Simius into the barracks."
"Bets on it actually being able to get through the gate?"
"Zero. I'm flying that thing over the wall just to see everybody's reactions."
"Why am I not surprised."
Next morning, having slept a rough night under the Noctilum sky, the two of them kicked some dirt over the remains of the fire and packed up before resuming the previous day's northward trek, following footprints and other markings that most people would have missed. It was three hours before they reached their goal: a sleeping Simius, its arms scarred and its mane caked in the remains of its last hunt. The two of them crouched behind a tree while they planned the attack.
"Well, here's our Overed. That thing's gonna feed half of Division Drive for a week. You gonna go first this time or should I?"
"That depends. Do we wanna cook the meat before we flavour it or the other way around?"
"I wouldn't call passing millions of volts of electricity through its nervous system 'flavouring it', but who am I to argue with you?"
"An insane Mediator with a stabby disposition. Killing blow gets bragging rights. Get zapping."