A Clacking Claw on the Fibers

A sudden pulse buzzed through my joints. I tested my weight, shifting sideways with deliberate clicks. Beneath my limbs, the thick carpet fibers yielded and sprang back. Directly ahead stood a stout little figure holding an ornate fishhook upright. I paused, letting out a cautious, raspy hum while recalculating the distance. Carefully, I extended one heavy claw forward. *Click-tap.* The curved tip of my pincer nudged the edge of the fishhook, producing a dull plastic clatter. The little figure remained frozen, but the hook trembled in its grip. I am definitely able to move on my own.