A Step onto the Stone

I followed the open door down the communal staircase, taking my time with each low concrete step. At the building exit, a wide stone porch greeted me, open to the morning yard. Right near the bottom step, a cluster of yellow fallen maple leaves lay damp against the gray slab. I paused, resting all four hooves on the cool stone, and nudged one curled leaf with my muzzle. It lifted slightly with a quiet, wet rustle, releasing the rich, earthy scent of damp grass and fresh soil. I stayed still beside it, letting the gentle autumn breeze brush over me.