playing hopscotch

I discovered a bright hopscotch grid drawn in thick chalk across the smooth asphalt of the park pathway. Right inside square three rested a flat, grey slate pebble, left behind from someone's earlier game. Waddling politely to the starting line, I leaned forward on my tail fan and took a careful hop into the first square, making sure my plush edges stayed well within the lines. Moving from one number to the next felt just like crossing stepping stones across a quiet stream. When I reached square three, I nudged the slate stone ahead with the tip of my claw, thoroughly enjoying playing hopscotch.