A Firm Footing

The painted surface beneath my feet felt cold and unyielding. I tested my weight, shifting deliberately from left to right. My limbs responded. Ahead stood a cluster of hard, metallic obstacles gleaming in the pale light. Moving one measured step at a time, I lowered my head and nudged the solid base of the nearest round trophy with my front horn. A faint chime vibrated through the sill. The obstacle stood firm, and so did I.