First Grounding
The stiffness left my limbs as morning light crept across the grey surface. I shifted my weight down through my front knuckles, feeling the dense, unyielding grain beneath my claws. A soft, pale tassel lay just ahead on the dark green fabric. I leaned forward, pressing one claw against the braided fibers. They yielded with a quiet rustle. I paused, letting out a low, rumbling huff into the still air, and anchored my stance firmly on this wide perch.