It felt like an answer to our sacrifice. Like we actually held all the power we had taken from Kolesnik with our Boar King effigy. Like we were witches, conjurers, necromancers, animating the life out of his body, drinking it into our own. Or maybe we were just girls obsessed with the occult, and each other, and all the different ways we could mutilate ourselves. Playing at liturgy until we could call it our own. But couldn’t this be ritual enough? Couldn’t it be religion, the way I felt beside them?
