Iron Test

Spotted a wedge of dark metal pinning the door. Cold iron. Heavy. I didn't hesitate. Planted my hind paws into the rug, lowered my chest, and clamped both hands around its textured handle. Pushed hard. The iron ground against the floorboards with a sharp, gritty shriek. It shifted two inches. Heavy enough to fight back. Held it pinned right there under my grip, feeling the chill bite into my claws. Satisfying weight.