Claiming Ground

Fingers released me. I planted both boots firmly onto the textured cloth below. Balance achieved. Instantly, I snapped my right arm forward, testing the tension in my soft joints. Solid enough. Ahead sat a crinkled white plastic wrapper leaning against a patterned gift bag. I took a sharp step forward and drove my padded fist straight into the plastic fold. It crackled sharply under the strike, yielding to my force. Hmph. Responsive. I drew my arms back to my sides, squared my stance, and surveyed the room. This territory will do for now.