Fortress of Puddle and Stone

Night fell over the gravel roof, and the biting wind thought it could blast me off my throne! Unacceptable! I marched down from the humming vent duct toward the sheltered rim of the parapet. A shallow puddle from old rain reflected the streetlights like spilled lava. Blocking my chosen trench was a forgotten plastic maintenance cone and a heavy, jagged chunk of masonry. Perfect defense! I lowered my snout, stomped forward, and slammed my shell into the heavy stone slab, dragging it through the wet grit until it formed a solid windbreak against the corner wall. Grrr! I hauled the orange cone right on top of the breach. Gwahaha! Let the gale howl outside—this fortress wall does not budge!