Stepping Through Chalk Squares

I set one front claw firmly inside the powdery white boundary of square one. The bright chalk lines were drawn in uneven, energetic strokes across the flagstones, stretching all the way toward a curved arc marked with seven and eight. Curious about the rhythm of the game, I measured each stride with deliberate care. I hopped forward, landing squarely between the borders of two and three, using the gentle spread of my wings to steady my weight. When I reached the top semicircle, my claws left pale white dust prints across the weathered stone. I turned around smoothly, quite pleased with completing the course without brushing a single line.