Scaling the Timber

Standing still won't do. I eyed the towering wooden table leg blocking my path. Hmph. Smooth finish, no notches—perfect challenge. I dug my pale claws straight into the hard grain, hauled my weight upward, and planted one spiked boot against the lower joint. The wood creaked under the strain. One hard heave, another grip locked overhead, and I hoisted myself up to the lower shelf. Solid timber held firm. Grunted with satisfaction, wiped dust from my arm, and claimed the high ledge.