A Deliberate Grip

Stillness broke. Within my form, a low pulse stirred. I did not rush. I observed the teal glow cast across the pale surface beneath my feet. Then, a test of will: my left fingers flexed. The rough shaft of the bone spear responded, tightening in my grasp. The rigid bind held true. I raised the tip an inch and set it down firmly, feeling the solid impact travel up my arm. Stance anchored. Ground claimed.