A Solid Frost Cube

Dug my claws straight into the rigid plastic tray. A single cube of ice resisted. Wedged deep. Tight. I braced both feet against the chilled wire rack. Grunted. Threw my weight into a violent jerk. A loud crack—and the block snapped free into my grasp. Solid. Frost biting hard into my palms. I rolled it across the icy grate, testing its mass. Heavy enough. It left a frosted smear as I dragged it into my corner.