A Firm Grip
A sudden stiffness broke in my knuckles. I tightened my gloved fingers around the smooth wooden shaft across my chest. The shovel gave a faint, solid creak under my palms. I shifted my weight forward onto both feet, testing the plain ground beneath me. Everything was quiet, bare, and unmarked. A low grunt rumbled in my throat as I tapped the shovel blade lightly against the grey floor to secure my stance. Firm. Grounded. Nothing is trespassing on my post.