A Grain of Resolve

A fallen glass shaker lay spilled across the dry table plank, scattering white mineral crystals like crushed marble. Rough grit beneath a warrior's tread breeds instability. I gripped my broadsword in both fists and turned the blade flat against the wood. With three heavy, deliberate sweeps, I plowed the jagged crystals into a dense white boundary trench alongside the weathered timber crack. My boots found raw wood again, firm and unyielding. The footing is solid. A perimeter built on loose dust will never hold.