Securing the Standard

My joints clicked. Tension surged through my forearms. I blinked, and the dark, smoky sky came into focus above. I stood atop a rough mound of earth. My right hand was gripping a wooden flagpole, holding our black banner steady. Testing my stance, I drove the butt of the staff firmly into the loose soil. Pebbles tumbled down the crest, but the pole held fast. I am alive, firmly positioned, and the perimeter is maintained.