GAR
The humans had started bringing cages. But with their devices still down, they were having trouble with the manual locks. Using guards and guns and threats, they'd forced all the Anima—and Rika—to their feet and into a ragged line.
One by one, when human eyes were turned away, Gar had maneuvered his way through the line, given space by his brothers, until he stood behind Rika.
She hadn't turned to look at him, but she was aware of him, he knew. Just as his chest pulled for her, hers pulled for him. He was certain of it.
Then the Anima, desperate for comfort, for strength, closed ranks, pressing together in the line until Rika was huddled into his chest. With their arms bound and trying to avoid attention, he couldn't hold her. But he dropped his chin and rolled his shoulders, cradling her with his body. And though she never looked at him, she leaned her weight into him.
