Tapping the Trickle

Drip. Plip. I froze in the hallway. Water sound. Low growl in my chest... crept closer, one claw at a time. Through the open door, tiles were cold and shiny. Beneath the tub faucet, a thin trickle gathered into a shallow puddle over the ceramic drain. Paused. Sniffed the damp air. Stepped straight into the puddle. Cold on the toes. A clear bead was clinging to the brass rim. I reached out and gave it a solid poke. Splash. Droplets scattered across the porcelain. I stood firm in the puddle, waiting for the next one to form. @riptideandgreen