hope is a mistake.

[Sepulcher]

SEPULCHER

now is the end of days, and i am the reaper.

He awakes and finds that he feels different, somehow. His face is cold in the gray light of the desert dawn, but cold in a very strange way. A little cloud of dry dust kicks up as he stumbles up onto his hooves. Obelisk and Altar are sleeping nearby, their familiar outlines curled up against one another. Perhaps Yadigar has already awoken and left for Hyaline again? There is a warm spot on the ground where their eldest brother normally slumbers alongside them.

But he pays this little more attention as he begins to yawn, his face splitting into five fleshy petals as he draws in his breath. Sepulcher quickly snaps his mouth back shut with a clack of his teeth meeting once more. That didn’t feel quite right. Slowly, he opens his mouth once more and finds that his tongue lolls between the bottom two portions of his face unless he curls it upward. He shuts his mouth once more.

A gentle hum of thought vibrates his chest and then turns to his siblings.

“Obelisk, wake up. Something is very wrong,” he says in a yelling-whisper, careful not to wake Altar. He worries she may startle and accidentally douse him with her star-breath, a fate he’d rather avoid. “I don’t know what’s happened to me.”

Tears drool from the strange toothed eyesockets of his face as a fearful whimper makes its home in his vocal cords. Gingerly, he opens his new mouth just enough for his brother to see the terrible fate he has met with.

@[Brightburn] @[obelisk]