Breaching the Reed Trench

The steep gravel slope gave way beneath my claws. Loose stones rattled into the trough below. Right in the stagnant runoff sat a dense thicket of pale, dried cattail reeds, blocking the muddy trench. Unacceptable barrier. I lowered my snout and plowed directly into the stalks. Crunch. Dry fiber split under my chest, fighting back with sharp friction against my scaly hide. A half-buried aluminum soda can poked out from the silt like a dull silver boulder. I stomped my foot squarely onto its hollow side. Clack. It flattened into the mud. I waded deep into the murky sediment, planted both feet wide in the dark muck, and let out a blunt, clicking hiss.