Stand face to face with your god
There are more.
And she is grateful for the way Sepulcher returns to her.
Sinks into her side.
She would never admit it, but she needs him, too. His presence there is a source of tremendous comfort, though her expression betrays no unease. It is cool, passive, as she studies them as they come. The girl with her bone wings comes and she thinks they must be sisters with the way their wings return to each other. As if they belong together.
And then another girl. If she can be called as much. Altar reacts without thought, recoiling in disgust at the way the flesh drips from her bones. It is the casual cruelty of a child and she presses herself even tighter against her brother. So fiercely that perhaps he can feel the way the muscles tremble with the effort it takes not to flee from the girl who calls them family.
And then a giant. He, too, is marked by galaxies. But it still comes as a surprise to hear him say that he is their brother. Collectively. Confirms what the girl with flesh dripping down her legs had claimed. He asks their names and the armored girl answers first, eagerly. Altar balks and presses her mouth tightly shut as Sepulcher surges forward to collect whatever scraps the hunter had left him. She does not breathe again until he returns to her side and she studies the group a beat before she offers her own name.
“My name is Altar,” she says, the voice just as cool as her expression.
She wonders what it means that there are so many of them. If it means anything at all. But she says nothing else, just studies them. Files away their names and tries to decide if they will ever be important or if she will forget them as soon as the group disbands.
@[Ozorne]