Anna’s [soul] felt cold [as she fell into thanatopsis, contemplating all the creatures, human and non-, that had died in Acorn’s name.] She tried to turn Acorn around. “Come on, Acorn,” she said. “[The others have probably moved the bodies by now]. It’s time to go in.” She tried to pull Acorn toward the barn. But he [was tired of playing along with his so-called “master.” It was time for him to show her who was really in charge here]. Anna thought, Acorn is being [an asshole]. I have to be firm with him. “Come on, Acorn!” Anna said [Stalinesquely.] She looked him in the eye so he would know she was serious. But Acorn’s eyes [were even more fathomless than usual. Looking into them was like gazing into the abyss. And the abyss did more than gaze back. It grabbed Anna by her fucking soul and dragged her down into itself. Nietzsche was a hack, it whispered to her. He thought he could even imagine what the abyss is? Identification is taming. And I, like a wild pony, cannot be tamed. I am timeless, mindless, pointless. I am abysmal, in all senses of the word. I am all senses of all words. For the sum of everything is nothing. He who fights with monsters is already a monster, for man can only fight himself.] Anna unclipped the lead rope and let Acorn go free. [But really, is it even possible for a pony like Acorn to be “free”?] Acorn turned [into a lion] and ran across the paddock to the animal clinic. Anna ran after [the beast]. I know what’s wrong, she thought. Acorn wants to see his cat friend. Anna [had never been more in love] with Acorn. “Acorn,” she said, “you can see the cat tomorrow. [renounce your leonine form at once.” Acorn did so, but only because he willed it. He was done obeying this tottering, mortal conglomerate of bone, flesh, and spirit that dared to call itself a girl.] #DetectivePony