M.C. Striker Ringing the Links

After slipping out beneath the garden gate, I bounded across the sunlit sidewalk toward an ornate copper rain chain dangling from a low porch awning. My claws found instant purchase on the rough brick pillar, scrambling upward until I could leap directly onto the lowest hammered cup. Clang-clatter! The entire metallic spine swayed violently beneath my weight, sending a shuddering wave of hollow rings through the cool air. I hissed in fierce delight, flaring my ears wide as the brass links clicked against my chest trinkets. Hooking my talons over the rim of the swinging cup, I rocked back and forth, surveying the wide front lawn like a conqueror.