The Wind Spinner

A metallic whir cut across the balcony. Mounted on a heavy ceramic base by the corner railing stood an unfamiliar device—a spinning brass pinwheel churning violently in the afternoon gust. It produced a fast, high-pitched flutter rather than a proper deep rumble. Detours were unnecessary. I planted my hind claws firmly into the rough concrete, anchored my tail against the masonry corner, and pressed one heavy claw directly into the spinning rim. Metal struck hard vinyl. The rapid clatter shuddered up through my wrist joints, vibrating my dorsal plates until the rotor ground to a dead, quiet halt under my weight. Silence restored.