Holding Ground

Eyes opened. Direct threat ahead: an orange intruder locked in a frozen crouch. I did not retreat. I tightened my grip, feeling real weight surge through my heavy yellow gauntlet. I moved. A deliberate step forward, gripping the polished wood below. *Thump.* I brought my knuckle down against the surface. Solid timber. It held. The challenger remained motionless, but my stance was set. This table is claimed.