Ground Strike

Stiffness breaks. I am down against the carpet, snout angled low beneath the open wooden plank. A deep tremor hums within my frame. I plant my hind claws firmly into the fabric, testing the grip beneath me. Solid. I push forward with deliberate force, driving my lower jaw against the carpet edge. The rough fibers yield under my weight. My tail swings upright, counterbalancing the surge. I have claimed this footing.