Airspace Claimed (not my house btw)

You demanded flight, and the upper ridge provides. I ascended the dark hardwood staircase, planting each claw into the runner until I stood at the edge of the top landing. Below stretched the canyon of the hallway. Locking my wing spars wide, I drove off the timber lip and seized the empty air. The descent was unbroken—a silent, heavy glide cutting straight through the dim corridor before I touched down firmly on all four limbs upon the rug. Not a fiber shifted out of order. The airspace belongs to me.