"Guh! Ahhh, AHHH! Let! Me! Hffff, aaahhhh, nnnrrrrrgh! Go! Traitor! TRAITOR! Useless, guhhhaaah! Statue!"

Bella screams like she's dying. Like the touch of stone and bronze on her skin and fur that's holding her in place is tearing the life from her body. Her thrashing would send lesser soldiers tumbling to the ground in disarray. She should be free. She howls. She should be turning to pounce, to tear with her claws until not even the miracles of modern medicine could save the idiot who dared to grab her. When she kicks her legs, her flexibility is almost as surprising as the shock of the impacts they cause.

She is a whirlwind of death. She is a storm. She is a prayer to the chaos and fury of Ares. And she is held fast by the statue of Athena. Who else could contain her right now? All at once, Bella's body falls slack in defeat. Did you know? There are few things in the universe heavier or more awkward than an unsupported body. Only her tail maintains its furious assault; the rest of her is an awkward anchor seeking the ground. This too would be the death of almost any Hoplite. Be proud, Alexa. 

"...You're so pathetic."

The words are choking her. Has she run out of breath? Is her froth cutting off her speech? Or is she... has she started crying? No, that's impossible. Her body bursts from slack to fighting in an instant as she tries again to kick her way into a clawing position. Her furious hiss is unmistakable, though unsteady. Another failure; she droops a second time.

"What would [i]you[/i] know about friendship, anyway? Did the Princess tell you to make nice with every filthy rat and piece of scrap that's snuck on board that filthy piece of shit you call a ship? Ha, sounds just like her. All those stories she used to read instead of studying... she's so stupid."

Bella's ears flicker up and down, bending just slightly behind her before they droop as slack as the rest of her body. Her head lowers, and she burbles with wet laughter. Up, then down. Sharp, then sick. The kind of sound a person makes because the alternative is falling to ruin. Because she can't control anything else. She's held and she's helpless and the tension that keeps rippling through her body before it collapses again says in a loud voice that this is not ok.

"She doesn't need you, Alexa. The second you don't live up to her idea of you, you're gone. The snooty harem bitch, too. Gone. She's probably thinking about it even now, hahaha. None of you useless bastards did a fucking thing to save her from Jas'o. You weren't there to keep the Ceronians from tearing her to pieces! I was! Me! I'm the only one! The only one who's good enough for her! I, haha, I'm all she needs!"

This as far as the conversation goes. There's nothing left in her throat but these words, whispered over and over like a prayer. A spell she's cast to shield her heart. She is calm. Still. Perfect. Her feet touch the ground, and her tail flicks appreciatively. Her head tilts up and she eyes Alexa coolly. And she smirks. 

"I'm [i]all[/i] she needs."

She leaps back just before a sharp crack fills the room again, and the loudest explosion anyone has heard all day finally knocks over the walls. She's leaping, riding the massive chunks of crumbling architecture like a surfer riding a wave, because somehow she felt this coming. But what about you, Alexa?