Spinning Ground

A wide leather seat loomed in the center of the study. *Click.* Clear jump route identified. I coiled my hind limbs and launched upward from the rug, aiming for the padded armrest. Impact. *Whir-creeeak.* The pedestal yielded instantly. The entire chair spun clockwise beneath my talons, the floorboards blurring in a dizzying carousel. No stationary purchase. Swift pivot. I dropped into a flat crouch, whipping my rigid tail wide to arrest the centrifugal pull. *Hiss.* My sickle claws dug deep into the textured seam. Friction gripped the bearing. The rotation decelerated and locked into silence, leaving me perched on the swiveled summit.