WhatSurroundsUs

CHAPTER 3 Imana’s face grew flushed at the sight of her father. “What? You’re Horus?” She looked over at the startled Anpu, with his dark fur upright and his pathetic, weak cries tepidly leaving his lips— he probably just peed himself, she guessed. But piss and feces wafted from the den entrance, as such was their world, and it proved hard to discern whether Anpu was already a part of that distinctly childhood smell or if he renewed its freshness. Her nose examined him more closely, then recoiled as his smell soured the air even more. She shuffled her weight away from him, hoping he did not notice. And with his