The concept of "pet" is a really complicated thing for a Space Marine. None as if in the hundreds of years he has not even imagined having one, much less that they would become someone so close to him.

Unable to understand what was going through his mind, Kanan simply looked at him as an annoyance. A clumsy nuisance that gets busy with anything and doesn't stop jumping from one dangerous situation to another. Whether it be other squigs or some dangerous ravine, it seemed that the strange white creature was destined simply to die of its own stupidity. Still, the ork had shown him some empathy. He didn't know how to express affection, so he just called it that.

At least the little abomination was already able to catch some smaller vermin to feed on for him. "White," as Kanan used to call him, seemed to be able to survive on his own. At least the ex-Marine could carry on with the clear conscience that they would not abandon him without being sure that he could survive without his help.

A few moderately quiet days passed. Quiet as dangerous greenskin forests and constant squig attacks can allow. Blanco was increasingly capable of capturing larger prey and that was already confirming to Kanan that it was time to leave the creature behind.

It was a silent night, where the creaking of the wood that fed the fire was the only thing that disturbed the tranquility. That and Kanan's stomach. That day there were not many prey to hunt, and his voracious appetite seemed endless. He at least knew he wasn't going to die for it, so he wasn't particularly alarmed.

He was alone, since Blanco had left a few hours ago, safe to hunt and eat something. How envious Kanan felt of not being able to have the night vision that the white vermin possessed, or else he would not have to stop every night to set up camp. The darkness was something that scared even the bravest, because you can't defend yourself from what you can't see.

Kanan thought that perhaps this was better. He trusted that Blanco had finally realized his freedom and was gone forever. He had never taken so long, so he had no other reason to think otherwise. But for some reason, he couldn't fall asleep.

A strange noise alerted him. What kind of monster would now come out of the darkness to end his life. With some time he was able to sharpen a long stick which they now used as a makeshift spear and javelin. Kind of rustic, but better than using her knuckles and claws on him. The light from the fire revealed a strange silhouette approaching, one that moved erratically and trembling. Kanan brought his spear forward, ready to finish off the enemy once he bared his sharp fangs in the light of the fire. He gripped the stick tightly, the muscles in his feet tensing ready to pounce, taking a deep breath to control his restlessness, but the reflection of a familiar white back told him it wasn't a threat.

Blanco approached slowly, his body hunched over and on his back, in his face he was dragging the corpse of a squig even bigger than him. Did he kill that beast alone? How strong was that albino-skinned being really? At least that reassured Kanan and made him confident that he would survive this dangerous jungle.

Blanco dragged the corpse to Kanan's side, then calmly set it close to him and stepped to the side. The ork looked with confused eyes, trying to figure out what was going through the pale being's mind. Although the answer was quite obvious.

Kanan: What are you up to, little vermin?

Blanco only pushed the corpse a couple of times towards him.

Kanan: Are you... offering me your hunt?

This time Blanco gave a little grunt. A "yes" maybe. The ork could not understand such an interaction. Squigs are supposed to be brainless beasts that go on the attack without thinking about the consequences. However, the white beast that was now looking at him with those black eyes seemed to be having some kind of communication with him. Did Blanco have any iota of intelligence? Kanan found it unlikely, but the proof was right at his feet.

The ork does not think twice. He took the red carcass and skinned it, took out the entrails from it and cleaned the flesh from it. The smell of the juicy piece exposed to the fire aroused the appetite of both. Once Kanan was ready, he did not hesitate to give Blanco a good portion, after all he was his prey, and it would not be fair for him to enjoy the greater prize. His Marine principles wouldn't let him. The simple fact that this beast shared its food with him was more than enough to earn him respect. And a Space Marine's respect is as sacred as the very word of the Emperor of Mankind.

Now, with a bond that grew stronger with each joint hunt, both ork and beast discovered the advantages of hunting as a duo. The preid those increased, the seldom missed its target, and the supply of meat seemed to be as endless as the forest itself. Was it his imagination, or was Blanco bigger now? It is not possible that he has grown so much in such a short time.

What Kanan was unaware of was the very nature of the greenskins. That illogical truth that they grow in size and strength after each battle seemed impossible. But it was real, though the orks themselves did not know it. Kanan himself was unaware of this, but he himself had grown in size and strength since he emerged from his incubation bulb. Only his growth wasn't as crazy as albino squeg's.

What had once been a wimpy white rat was now as big as a boar, and as muscled as a mustang horse. A powerful war machine, flesh and teeth, now behaving like a cub sleeping peacefully at Kanan's feet under the moonlight or the warmth of the campfire.

The ork looked at him strangely, a small spark of curiosity activated in him. Maybe you see something instinctive. He reached out and placed his hand on Blanco, he hesitated for a second, then rested it on his pale skin. The touch was a strange sensation, but nothing unpleasant. He was even able to claim that he liked her. He began to caress the creature as if it were a pet, and even laughed when Blanco involuntarily moved his sleeping paw while Kanan scratched his back. He never thought of calling a monster a partner that in his old vids he would not have hesitated to fill with lead.

The days passed and the confidence of the hunter and his hound increased. His techniques were impeccable, and after each capture the squig got bigger. If he reached the size of those beasts he remembered from fields of yore then they would have problems with food, but they would manage. And finally, after several weeks of living in isolation in that strange forest, they came across the first group of orks. Unfortunately, things were not going to have a pleasant outcome.

A powerful noise woke the two traveling companions from his deep sleep. The sound was annoying and loud, like an out of tune engine where the pistons constantly fail but somehow manages to keep going. Blanco had never heard anything like that and he was scared. Kanan knew the sounds, and he was even more scared. He heard it so many times on the battlefield and it would never be erased from his mind. They even tormented him in his dreams. The characteristic sound corresponded to the engines of the Speed Cultists.

As fast as they liked to be, they came out of nowhere riding their motorbikes and buggies, all with that characteristic red color scattered everywhere. A small screen, three motorcycles and two buggies that were not interested in going unnoticed, quite the contrary, they wanted them to know that it was there.

A scout saw them. That silly primitive ork in rustic clothes and next to him... He couldn't believe it. The white squig.

Everyone knows that the white squig has the tastiest meat of all. That's Orkoid common sense! A war could be waged and thousands would die just for a taste of these delicacies. And there was a huge one. The scout yelled at the boyz and the vehicles turned so sharply that for a moment they looked as if they were going to tip over. But when all their wheels rested on the green forest floor, they resumed their path towards their prey.

They slipped like thin air between the dozens of trees without even colliding. Kanan didn't even have time to react when a machine gun started firing towards his position. Thanks to the trees and their roots not allowing the orks to aim properly, or else he would have turned into an empty sack full of bullet holes before he could even hide behind the hard trunk of a tree. Kanan would be safe for now, but Blanco wouldn't have the same luck.

It didn't take long for the vehicles to surround the pale beast and separate it from its companion. The squig didn't know what was going on, and he wasn't even able to keep an eye on any of the metal beasts. Kanan tried to save him, but trying to get closer was suicide. Suddenly, thick chains caught Blanco by the feet and dragged her across the uneven ground. The beast screamed in pain and terror, the orks on the vehicles laughed and jeered at its suffering. And as quickly as they came they disappeared again, leaving only a trail of dust and dirt and tire tracks on the jungle floor.

Kanan: - NOOOOO! -

His scream could tear the very soul, but unfortunately there was no one left to hear it. The gang members had already gone too far, and all that remained of them was the roar of their engines in the distance. Kanan ran, ran as if his own life depended on it. He didn't think for a moment, he didn't need to. All he had to do was run and try to catch up with Blanco, and all his neurons were focused on that task.

He never knew how fast he ran, but the roar of the mighty metal machines never ceased to be heard. He didn't think he'd catch up with them, but at least he didn't lose track of them. The forest began to fade before his eyes, revealing an oppressive glow over the desert dunes. Once again he found himself in that arid landscape, only who knows how many kilometers away he was from the place where he was reborn.

That didn't matter now, because before his eyes an impressive orkoid fortress had risen, whose doors gave way to that gang of bastards who were dragging an exhausted and sore White over the burning sands.

"Damned. They will pay with every drop of their blood." Kanan's words gave his verdict, inadvertently drawing the attention of one or another god of chaos. He was about to start a carnage, and great heavenly eyes were gazing upon that seedy shelter of metal and sand.

Only a fool would be able to provoke the fury of a "chosen of chaos." May the gods have mercy on the souls of such fools, for Kanan will not.