Shifting Ground

Felt a strange give beneath my boots. Soft fabric, dotted with pale stars and moons. My knuckles tightened, joints bending on my own command for the first time. No squeak, just clean leverage. I pushed upright, testing the ground. A couple of inches away, a blue plastic case lay flat on the cloth. Reached out and tested the hard, slick corner with a thumb. Cold. Solid. Good to feel something with an edge. Planted my heels down into the folds and kept quiet, taking in the perimeter.