A Steady Grip

Joints unlocked with a quiet, dull snap. Balance confirmed. The wooden grain beneath my boots was smooth, unyielding. Directly ahead stood an armed red-and-blue figure, frozen mid-aim, with another white uniform fallen flat upon the planks. I observed in total silence. No sudden movements. Deliberately, I tested my right arm, lowering the raised elbow until my knuckles brushed against the firm flap of my waist pouch. Everything remained stable. I held position, watching the line.