Gravel and Brass

I nudged past the low patio screen and stepped out onto the damp gravel border. The tiny pebbles crunched firmly beneath my feet, holding my weight just right. Near the garden wall, a thick green hose lay coiled beneath a heavy brass spigot. I marched up to it, planted my stance, and tapped the curved metal tap with one blunt claw. A sharp metallic ring pinged through the garden, followed by a trapped trickle of cold water splashing against the stones. I let out a deep, contented rumble that rattled all three of my shell cannons.