Iron Hasp

Stomped out of the cave. Trapped inside too long! Squeezed through the lobby glass and charged straight into the bright courtyard gravel. At the base of the wooden tool shed—a heavy brass beast hung from a dark iron hasp. A padlock! Cold. Chunky. Guarding the latch. I didn't hesitate. Lowered my snout, flared my jaws, and clamped down hard across the curved steel shackle! CLANG! Cold metal shuddered against my teeth. Zero give! I braced both hind claws against the weathered cedar plank, whipped my neck sideways, and hauled back with all my bulk. The iron latch rattled violently—CLATTER-RING! It held fast. Pinned my chin over the brass core. Gate stays locked under my watch.