What even IS centaur anatomy?

Centaurs

SRS FACE

Seriously, this question has bugged the life out of me for ages. I don’t mean a few weeks, no. I mean at least a year. I’m yet to find a suitable answer.

Okay, so centaurs are horse bodies with man bodies grafted on (getting technical now, people). I get this. But the horse bit has organs.  It’s the main body of the horse. It has organs; stomach, lungs, heart, liver, etc. You know organs, you can fill in the blanks.

But the man bit is the body of a man. Or woman, I guess. I’ve seen Narnia, female centaurs exist. But the human bit also has organs. Heart, lungs, stomach, etc.

My question, do they have double the amount of organs? That seems very poor planning. So, they’ve got a heart up top, and underneath as well? Are they Time Lords? They got two sets of lungs? That’s a whole lot of breathing going on. What, do they pant with every breath? Two stomachs? Why? Do they eat double the amount? Do they have to eat grass and hay to satisfy the horse stomach? While also eating meat to satisfy the human stomach? Do they get back problems because of the way their spines just… sort of… curl?

I don't trust this. It has no kidneys.

I don’t trust this. It has no kidneys.

What even IS centaur anatomy?! You’ve no idea how much this bugs me. I seriously hope someone, someday, answers this for me, because short of that, I’m gonna have to kidnap a centaur and ask him or her. Or dissect one. Which is a rude thing to do to a guest when you’ve just offered them shortbread.

Other things bug me too: what’s a unicorn horn made of? Is it keratin, like a rhino horn? Or is made of pure magic, like that one episode of Charmed suggests? What makes the spark at the back of a dragon’s throat that ignites its breath? Does a phoenix ever get bored? Why does my copy of Smoke and Mirrors keep disappearing off my bookshelf? Is Neil Gaiman stealing it back every two weeks? And what is Tom Hiddleston really made of?

Puppy smiles and fangirl screams, is the answer to that last one.

The answer to that last one is actually puppy smiles, rainbow sparkles, and fangirl screams.

And why is it, even though I’ve combed through Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at least 24 times (seriously, I can practically recite the entry for the Lethifold), can I not find any reference to three-headed dogs? Because, really JK, the only theory I can come up with is that Fluffy is actually Cerberus, and he’s just on loan from Hades. Takin’ a holiday from guarding the entrance to Hell, just gonna go hang out with Dumbledore and his crew.

This is not cool. These questions irritate me.

 

In between banging my head against the wall, hoping to answer these deep and profound questions, I’ve been working with E.J. Runyon, a genuinely lovely lady from across the pond, who has been helping me edit The Old Ways. I want to say how it’s going, but there are spoilers, and… hhhnnnggggg, so many spoilers. Let’s just say, it’s a fantastic experience and I’m learning so much ^-^ oh, and my first chapter is a beautiful experience. It’s so shiny. Yes, I am a Firefly fan. Browncoats forever!

 

Blessed be,

RK )O(

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Dogs have Owners, Cats have Authors.

Little Luna has taken to her new home almost instantly. She also took to my lap almost instantly. Had to suppress a sneeze for nearly an hour. Which isn’t easy when one has a cold.

"I shall nap here, New Human."

“I shall nap here, New Human.”

‘So what’s new in the world of RK?’ I hear you ask. Or type. Or… whatever, my brain and nasal passages are full of icky stuff.

  • I’m sick, AGAIN. After almost dying from Glandular Fever last year, the hospital discovered that I suffered from something called a Neutropenic Sepsis. Basically, my white blood cells are very, VERY low, and if I were to so much as say “bless you” to someone who sneezed, I would catch something. I was quarantined for two weeks while the doctors and nurses scratched their heads and tried to figure out what I was dying of. (I survived. Obviously). But, now I get sick very easily. It’s not good.
  • I’m up to season three in my Charmed re-watch. I loved this show when I was younger. I was obsessed with it. But I haven’t watched it in years, so I’m going through all of the episodes again on Netflix. Oh, Netflix… where would I be without you?
  • I’m playing Dragon’s Dogma again, and determined to stick it out this time, instead of giving up when I deliver the Hydra head to Gran Soren. I always seemed to sort of just stop playing at that point, and replay Dragon Age for the sixth time or something.
  • SPEAKING OF DRAGON AGE, OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG, WE HAVE A RELEASE DATE AND I’VE PREORDERED INQUISITION! OMG OMG OMG OMG #FANGIRLING
  • Oh, and I finished my first poem in over a year. Yay for me! ^-^ It’s more angsty than I had originally intended it to be, but it’s got a rhyming lilt to it that I’m quite impressed with. Not exactly iambic pentameter, but close enough that I don’t feel the shame when I read it back. It’s called The Queen of Broken Things. I’ll post it below, in case you’re interested.
  • I’ve had to cut my nails. I hate cutting my nails. But I couldn’t type, so they had to be trimmed. I hate being declawed, I feel too vulnerable. So what if I’ve accidentally slashed my own arm in my sleep because my nails were too sharp? Oddly enough, it was deeper than a scratch from Luna, and has actually left a scar. In other words, do NOT mess with this Kitty.

Why yes, I am hyped up on catnip, why do you ask? *twitch*

 

Blessed b– what was that? You hear a noise? Something made a noise. I heard a noise. SHH there it is again. What– noises– wassat?

RK )O(

Queen of Broken Things

She is not afraid of broken things,
Of broken angels with broken wings,
She does not shy from broken toys,
From broken girls and broken boys.

She is a wilful creature of the wild,
Full of passion, full of pride.
With mindful gaze and wolfish smile,
Among the trees to sit awhile.

To crooked paths she winds the ways,
Through moonless nights and sunless days
Between twisting trees with starlit eyes
She walks alone beneath darkened skies.

She is not afraid of broken things,
Of broken heroes and broken kings.
She does not fear what darkness brings,
Those fallen angels with broken wings.