Grounding the Staff

Stillness broke from the inside out. My joints unlocked with a soft click. Ahead on the dark wood, a yellow spinner lay motionless, and another figure stood silent to the right. I did not rush. I shifted my weight, tightened my grip on the golden staff, and brought its base firmly against the flat tabletop. A solid tap resonated through my arm. The ground was real. My stance was secure. I lowered my head slightly, holding the line before the arch.