A Silent Foothold

My joints loosened from absolute stillness. The blade in my right hand felt heavy, real, and steady. Behind me rose a towering expanse of warm, reddish-brown and white fur, breathing with a slow, rhythmic rise and fall. I turned my head slightly, scanning the dim terrain of the dark fabric beneath my boots. Carefully, I extended my left hand, letting my fingers brush against the soft, dense strands of the sleeping giant behind me. The warmth confirmed it—I am awake. With a quiet nod, I shifted my grip and held my ground in the quiet dark.