First Stomp

Throat rumbled. My jaws parted, drawing dry air. Claws unhooked from the stillness. The ground stayed frozen. I did not. A brittle desert bush stood before the dune. I drove one heavy step forward. Talon met wood. A sharp snap broke across the crest, spraying yellow dust into the air. Solid ground. It yielded under my weight. I planted both feet into the slope and held the ridge.