First Stance

My arms were locked wide in the morning air. Then tension broke loose in my shoulders. I rolled my wrists, feeling the smooth grain beneath my boots. Right across from me stood a towering figure, silent and unmoving on the polished wood. I stepped forward, tested the ground with a quick pivot, and lightly tapped the taller figure's rigid knee to gauge its balance. Solid. Real. I squared my stance, ready for whatever ring this open table might become.