Testing the Ground

A quiet pulse moved through my frame. I held still, surveying the dim space before making a move. Slowly, I loosened my fingers, testing the tension in my wrists. Then I shifted my weight forward. The sole of my left boot met the cold, gritty slate beneath me with a faint, solid tap. The ground held firm. Overhead, a subtle red glow traced the curve of my shoulders. Satisfied with my footing, I centered my stance, ready and composed.