Direct Ascent

A rough fieldstone wall rose straight ahead, barring my advance toward the upper lawn. No detours. I drove my claws into the first mortarless fissure. Cold, jagged basalt bit into my footpads. One loose rock tilted under my tread. I froze. I shifted my mass low and drove my snout horn flush against the upper boulder until the shifting stone jammed tight beneath my weight. Deliberate ascent. I hauled my bulk over the crest and planted both feet on the flat coping stone. The high ground yielded to pressure. A low, gravelly rumble stirred in my chest.