Night Sentinel's Ridge

I withdrew from the wet cobblestones to higher ground as the seaside chill thickened. A narrow red brick ledge ran beside a low wooden shutter, clear of the floor damp. With both boots planted square on the brickwork, I set down my gear. In the corner of the sill lay an empty metal tape dispenser core, rusted and jagged with tiny iron teeth. I propped it upright like a miniature battle battlement. Sitting back against the weathered window frame, I rested my boots beside the steel teeth and watched the alley amber fade into deep shadow. Guard is mounted.