Claws on Cold Granite

Ssshh! My claws snapped into the specked stone, cold and hard beneath my grip! A sudden twitch jolted through my spine. I am not rigid—I can move! Right beside me sat a tiny round container with a woven pattern. I lunged forward with a sharp hiss, slamming my knuckles against its plastic rim. Clack! It slid across the counter. Victory! Power courses through these limbs, ready to leap higher.