[open] I don't feel anything until I smash it up

[anatomy]

As she approaches the body, it hears her and turns to face her. They are both on high alert—the black and white stallion protectively, though of what she isn’t yet sure, and her muscles tense as she senses his unfriendliness. She stops far enough away as to not seem threatening, but close enough to see what he’s guarding. For a moment, she forgets who she is—staring at this black and white creature, hovering over a dead animal. “I hate to interrupt whatever the fuck this is—” she begins, only to be interrupted herself by a rustling and more bodies approaching her from every side. She can barely make out a figure behind him, though their white coat is a stark contrast to the rest of the forest. Hello, the small voice says, and before Anatomy can respond, a small pink child is next to her, glowing and angelic. “Lost, yes, thank you Lala,” she says, softening towards the child. Her voice is still strong, unchanged by the hundreds of years of disuse, and despite her plain appearance, she still has an air of regality. She hears the black and white stallion murmuring to himself, but she ignores him until he snaps his teeth at the pink child. Narrowing her eyes at him, she steps forward protectively. “I’m Anatomy, but you,” she says pointedly to Lala, “can call me Ana.” Two more have approached then, a roan, scaled stallion and a small palomino child with stars on her shoulder. She wonders for a moment if she really is in Beqanna, or if her memory of the old land is faulty, but those around her seem so be very different than she remembers most being. “I am in Beqanna,” she states, perhaps to comfort herself, “I’m looking for the Deserts—that’s my home. I hate the cold.” Where she stands, then, the thick layer of snow begins to melt beneath her. anatomy