The Stone Basin

I vaulted the low patio threshold and charged across the turf. Rising from the grass was a carved stone pillar crowned with a broad basin. An elevated bastion. I drove my talons straight into the chiseled limestone of the pedestal. Rock bit back, cold and uncompromising. Three hard lunges upward, and my claws gripped the heavy rim. A sudden yard gust broke over the crest, churning sharp ripples across the shallow pool. I slammed my fist directly into the water. Droplets sprayed across my chest. Unshaken, I planted both feet onto the curved edge, locked my tail against the stone flank, and snapped my wings wide over the shimmering surface. High ground taken.