SEPULCHER
I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes
Sometimes Sepulcher notices little sparks of heat from his sister’s mouth and it often mystifies him. She could keep him hypnotized in that way for hours, but the scurry of frantic motion and the scent of fear is always more powerful than the awe she commands from him. When she gently chastises him, he turns his dark head to observe her outline for a moment. He judges whether to heed her or to continue his blunt commands.
The clack of bone meeting bone draws him back to the stranger once more. This time, she is joined by another figure, similar in size and clearly comfortable with the other. Sepulcher offers a snort and presses closer to his own sibling. See? He has friends too. The tag teams are again interrupted when more faces emerge - a girl with horns curling from her eyes and a strange sort of heat pattern across her skin. Family, she says, and a voice echoes the word.
Sepulcher hisses at the taller figure and shrinks closer to Altar for comfort. He claims to be their brother, but the blind child has to pause to reconsider the gathering of strange creatures. They are all unusual in their own way but he supposes they are somewhat alike. He nibbles at his sister’s star-encrusted mane nervously.
Then, he smells blood. He hurries forward and snatches the still twitching corpse between his sharp teeth. Sepulcher hardly chews before trying to swallow the morsel, causing him to cough and wheeze before forcing it further down his throat.
Derelict, the other hunter says.
“Sepulcher,” he answers as he creeps back to his sibling now.
The clack of bone meeting bone draws him back to the stranger once more. This time, she is joined by another figure, similar in size and clearly comfortable with the other. Sepulcher offers a snort and presses closer to his own sibling. See? He has friends too. The tag teams are again interrupted when more faces emerge - a girl with horns curling from her eyes and a strange sort of heat pattern across her skin. Family, she says, and a voice echoes the word.
Sepulcher hisses at the taller figure and shrinks closer to Altar for comfort. He claims to be their brother, but the blind child has to pause to reconsider the gathering of strange creatures. They are all unusual in their own way but he supposes they are somewhat alike. He nibbles at his sister’s star-encrusted mane nervously.
Then, he smells blood. He hurries forward and snatches the still twitching corpse between his sharp teeth. Sepulcher hardly chews before trying to swallow the morsel, causing him to cough and wheeze before forcing it further down his throat.
Derelict, the other hunter says.
“Sepulcher,” he answers as he creeps back to his sibling now.