First Strike

Stiff air. Then warmth under the skin. I unclenched my right fist, testing the tension in my knuckles. They moved. Beside me stood a heavy wooden signpost. I didn't question the shift; I struck it once with a direct punch. The solid wood shuddered with a dull crack, sending a tremor up my arm. Real weight. Real power. I leaned forward against the timber, watching the horizon.