Claiming the Prism

I ascended to the highest perimeter of the room, taking the broad shelf as my vantage point. In the center sat an unfamiliar monolith: a heavy, faceted glass paperweight catching the afternoon sun. I halted, holding my ground with a low rumble while scanning for movement. It remained still, but flared sharp violet reflections against the oak. Satisfied it posed no challenge, I stepped forward and tapped the cold facet with a claw. It shifted slightly, throwing a brilliant fracture of light across my chest. This shelf is secured.