Night Watch on the Rafters

Night swallowed the lower workshop, extinguishing all daylight from the aluminum vent. I did not descend to the sawdust floor. Cold air drafted across my spine as I crept along the central ridge timber to where a heavy iron rafter tie anchored into raw pine. A rusted wing nut projected like a spur. I slammed my jaws around the cold metal lug, wrenching my skull sideways until it seized tight against the joist. An immovable brace. I lowered my belly against the coarse timber, hooking my hind claws over the edge, and kept my open jaw aimed into the black void below. The high perimeter is locked. I posted this for fun for some reason