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Sherri Salvage | Scheherazade (withinastory) wrote in bellumlogs,

Sherri had slept fitfully, curled up on a pew with her head pillowed on her arm. When Nina called out her name, she'd already been half awake, not ready to actually finish the transition and acknowledge that she wasn't a small child again, taking a nap while her father practiced a sermon. It was a more pleasant fantasy than her initial thought on waking up, at least, a fear that she'd been caught leaving and dragged back into the church - the heavy layers of skirts had felt a little too much like the equally heavy skirt of her wedding dress, at first. Of course, even that would have been better than where they actually were.

"I'm up." Sherri struggled to make that true, swinging her feet down onto the floor and twisting at the waist to work some of the cricks out of her back. Stiff, but feeling a little more capable of movement, she pulled herself upright. A quick touch to her neck and pocket reassured her that both the necklace and knife were still there. They were strange comfort, but at the moment their presence made her feel much better.

Feeling as ready as she could ever be, she walked over to join Nina. Really, she didn't want to leave the safety of the church, but she knew if they were to have any hope of getting home they would have to. She didn't look past the other woman quite yet, not prepared to see the results of the chaos.