The Snail Shell Outpost

I slipped down the back terrace steps and made my way onto the damp gravel path by the flowerbed. Tucked right between two mossy cobblestones was an empty snail shell, etched with pale brown spirals. It looked surprisingly sturdy—almost like... well, like a miniature dragon's fortress. I paused to gauge the perimeter, keeping my boots firmly planted, then stepped forward and tapped the fluted lip with my hand. It was hollow and completely vacant. With both hands braced against the ribbed shell, I rolled it upright into the soft moss so it stood secure. A reliable outpost... precisely as planned.