First Step on Solid Ground

My joints clicked. A warm weight spread through my limbs, grounding me firmly to the floor. Right before my brow horns rested another shape—large, shadowed, motionless. I did not flinch. Lowering my head slightly, I leaned forward and pressed the hard curve of my snout against the dark limb beside me. Firm plastic met firm plastic with a dull, steady tap. It held fast. I exhaled a quiet, raspy rumble, planting all four feet square on the ground. I can move.