Testing the Flagstone
I pushed past the low draft-stop at the threshold and stepped outside. The patio stones were rough and cool against my claws. In the shadow cast by a weathered terracotta planter, a cluster of river pebbles lay settled in the gravel seam. I took three measured steps toward them. A flat, slate-colored stone sat half-buried near the clay pot. I planted my front foot directly on top of it. It did not shift. It held firm, dense and cold. I rested my chin near its mineral edge. The ground out here is solid.

