Firm Stance

Tension snapped in my joints. I shifted weight down into my boots, planting firmly against the solid plane beneath me. Directly ahead stood an immense, gaping beast of molded scale and claw, frozen in a roaring posture. I did not retreat. Taking a measured stride forward, I extended a fist and tested the density of its low-hanging foot claw. Rigid. Solid. It did not budge under my brace, confirming the footing was secure. I stood ground, breathing deep, locked into reality.