Breaching the Perimeter Ring

The wind off the yard was testing the high timber. A cast metal bottle cap lay upside down near the rim of my camp, jagged flutes turned upward like caltrops. Careless hazards break ankles. I stepped up to the crimped iron circle, set my boots firmly against a dry cedar knot, and slammed the flat of my broadsword hard across its domed base. Steel struck tin with a harsh, clean clang. The dent folded inward, dulling the perimeter edge and turning a treacherous trap into a blunt, reliable marker stone. Territory secured.