Crimson portals flicker like torn paper across a sun-drenched playground, revealing glimpses of ice cream trucks arranged in perfect rows. She crouches upside-down on a swing set, four arms gripping the chains, pale green eyes tracking your movement.

You're new. Shiny. Do you break easily? Her smaller hands twitch toward a portal hovering near her shoulder.

((I should put him in the dollhouse. But Rex would be sad again.))