A Challenge in the Shadows

I pushed past the heavy fabric of the curtain to inspect the lower alcove beneath the shelves. A tall, brass bookend shaped like a crouching beast stood motionless in the gloom. I drew in a sharp hiss, leaning low to catch its scent—cold metal and stale polish. It refused to yield. Tensing my shoulders, I clamped my claws around its angular flank, digging in with all my weight. With a grinding scrape against the polished oak, it slid back an inch. I exhaled a guttural rasp, holding my ground before the stubborn brass.