Thermal Outpost

A slotted iron heating grate hummed softly in the dark corridor floor. Subterranean heat! Warm air billowed steadily through the narrow metal bars. Resting right on the updraft was a dry, golden oak leaf, quivering and hovering an inch above the floor without falling. A floating aerial scout! No roar was required. I advanced with deliberate, measured strides. Lowering my snout, I nudged the brittle leaf aside, pinning its stem flat against the cool wood molding. Then I planted my thick hind feet squarely across the heated iron slats. Magnificent thermal ascension! The hot current surged upward, warming my underbelly and scales against the autumn chill. Tail anchored. Eyes watchful. Night fortress warmed and secured.