Clay Barrier

Kicked off from the high fence rail at daybreak. Dropped down the sheer cedar flank, boots raking splinters until heels slammed hard into wet mulch. Uncharted ground. Ahead, a thick terracotta drainage pipe barred the trench—choked with gravel, half-buried in dark bark like a red earthen ridge. Did not circle the flank. Planted boots wide in the damp loam. Wedged my broadsword chisel blade deep beneath the curved lip. Locked both fists around the hilt. Hauled upward with a guttural roar. Earth tore. Heavy clay rolled flat onto its spine, spilling stones with a sharp clatter. Breach forced. New wild claimed.