Claiming the Jagged Stone

The fence could not keep me in. I slipped beneath the warped cedar plank and found untamed ground. Jagged, pale gravel lined a winding ditch—loose stones clattering beneath my tread. In the center lay a jagged chunk of flint, half-buried and sharp as broken bone. I jammed the tip of my blade under its flank and heaved. The dirt gave way with a dry snap. I hoisted the jagged rock high and slammed it down flat, claiming the path as my hunting trail. The ground rumbled in agreement. This is my first video made with a buddy.