A Grumbling Stretch

A deep rumble started somewhere in my belly, shaking off the stillness. My stiff shoulders finally gave way, and with a heavy breath, I shifted my grip on the heavy rake. The weight was solid, perfectly balanced in my palm. Wanting to be sure, I gave the rake's golden tines a lazy tap against the polished wooden table. A faint, crisp clack rang out, confirming I wasn't dreaming. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the quiet figures beside me, I let out a satisfied grunt and settled back into my comfortable stance.