Sanghelios, 2558. Camp of the swords of Sanghelios

Xuxa was standing guard in one of the many hutts that the Sangheili designated for allied species. The current camp being set in the red mountains of the Sangheili homeworld, dust and sand decorating the unforgiving crimsom landscape. From the dusty entrance of of then and tapping her energy sword's handle. She was growling softly

"Tch... We remain in the mountains and ruins. While the Covenant remnants are taking hold of our most sacred buildings! Disgraceful for our people doesn't even cover the offense this means to me."

With a hiss and a snarl sound coming from her throat, she starts tinkering with her plasma pistol, making her mandibles tense each time she adjusted her restless guarding position.

"The Arbiter has his hands tied with the safety of the refugees... And the humans ignore the importance of these relics... We are in a stalemate, a crime against our honor!"

With a huff, her powerful frame slouches, her armor accumulating dust for a second before she smacks it off, only for then to take a whiff of the scent in the air

"Mmm... Spartans? Other Elites? I cannot distinguish their sweat from the plasma and gunpowder at this point. Rtas and The Arbiter fight for results, not chit-chat, but humans loooove talking to me for some reason... Ugh... It's my fault for indulging them... Way too much... Specially... Ugh..."

She shakes the thought away and sighs

"At least they aren't a grunts... Their stench makes me want to eat a plasma grenade each time they change their tanks"