A Clattering Stone

I charged straight out from my sleeping hollow under the deck because lurking in the cold dust all morning is exactly what Darius and those irritating campers would expect me to do, and right along the edge of the path sat a smooth grey skipping stone balanced perfectly upright on a ridge of gravel like an insolent little shield trying to challenge my stride, so I lowered my snout and shoved my brow horns hard against its rounded edge until it clattered loudly against the coarse pebbles and settled flat into the dust, leaving me standing firm with one clawed foot planted right on top of it to make sure it stays put.