Sun on the Timber

Midday heat baked down on the lower wooden step. No obstacles to ram today. I dragged my bulk into the center of the broad cedar riser and dropped down flat. The weathered grain was hot, rough with dry splinters that pressed into my belly plates. I uncoiled my hind limbs, letting my heavy tail slack against the concrete edge. Claws rested loose. I lowered my jaw flat against the dry planks, soaking up the heat deep into my ribs. The whole yard stayed still. A slow rumble hummed in my chest, and I closed my eyes in the glare.