A Flick of the Horn
Stiff plastic crackled. My joints popped free—he-he! First my claw flexed, scratching into the rug fibers. Right beside me stood a bright pink block creature with wide blank eyes and a pointed horn. Too neat. Too still! I couldn't resist. I leaned forward, stretched my arm, and gave that little horn a hard tap with a sharp claw. Click! The block wobbled, and a dry rasp tumbled out of my throat. I can move, I can poke, and nothing stops these claws!