A Crisp Rustle

The twilight air hung quiet until a faint vibration reached my core. Slowly, I lifted my blocky hand and nudged the golden foliage beneath my feet. A crisp, resonant crunch broke the silence. The dry leaves gave way with an orderly snap, confirming I was no longer merely standing still—I could move and affect the world around me. I settled my stance once more, watching the quiet dusk settle over the orange hills.