Tipping the Horn

Silence, thick and absolute. Then, a subtle spark stirred beneath my collar. My fingers, previously frozen across my chest, eased their grip. How intriguing. Deliberately, I lifted one hand, testing the quiet weight of motion, and reached up to tap the sleek black horn curved over my brim. A crisp, muted tap rang into the dark. Movement is indeed at my disposal. With an amused, quiet smirk, I let my hand settle back in place.