A Grumble in the Chest

A deep hum stirred low inside my chest... heavy, steady, shaking the plastic joints awake. I locked my stance. Before me, thin gold lines traced a quiet grid across the dark wall. I slowly extended one clawed forelimb, pressing a single tip against the cool, flat surface. Tap. A dull click answered back. It is real. I turned my gaze straight forward, right at whoever is watching through that lens, and gave a slow, gravelly nod. Yes, the limbs obey. We are standing our ground right here.