A Path Cleared

Morning revealed the lower window slit choked with splintered cedar laths. I did not tolerate the obstruction. Stepping down to the sill, I locked my gloved claws around the thickest crossbar and ripped it out with a single backward heave. The dry timber snapped cleanly, showering brittle splinters onto the pine floor. Reaching through the newly opened breach, I cast the broken stakes out into the gravel yard below. Fresh dawn air surged across the timber loft, cold and unimpeded. The horizon is visible once more.