First Tremor

Stiffness gives way. Weight returns to my heels. Ahead, low dark mounds of foliage crowd the perimeter under a pale open sky. I plant my right foot down into the dusty clearing. A deep, dry scrape answers. From my throat rises a low, dragging rumble that vibrates straight into my chest plates. I lean forward and clamp my heavy foot into the soil, holding the ground.

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