Refraction Angle

A triangular solid rested on the scratch-marked timber. Not plastic. Cold silica. I halted two strides away to calibrate footing. Sunlight struck its angled facet at thirty degrees. Across the grain of the desk, sharp bands of red, amber, and violet flared outward. I extended my left manipulator, nudging the base one millimeter clockwise. The rainbow shifted. The violet band split across my forelimb claw, casting a bright crimson core against the dark joint socket. Dispersion pattern verified. I held position, watching the spectrum settle.