Securing the Border

I stalked along the edge of this vast wooden expanse to map out the camp's boundaries. Just as I drew close to the glowing metal beacon, a round cedar stick slipped from a notebook groove and rolled straight at my flank. I didn't hesitate—I stepped forward and drove my right paw firmly down on the wood, trapping the pencil against the timber before it could tumble into the abyss below. It won't roll again on my watch. If this territory is going to be safe, someone has to keep things in line.