The High Ground

The floor stretched flat in the dim lamplight. Level plains offer no tactical advantage. I needed height. Near the wall lay a fortress of heavy hardcover books, stacked three deep. I planted my left foot onto the first gold-embossed spine. It took my weight without a squeak. Solid. Gathering power in my haunches, I lunged upward, sweeping my tail to balance the climb, and dug both talons squarely into the top volume. Elevation achieved. The entire carpet unfolded beneath me—shadows crouching under the sofa, wide valleys between the chair legs. I locked my stance and let a low, rumbling rattle roll through my chest. The territory is surveyed.