Granite Shuffle

A tidy spire of flat, slate skipping stones sat abandoned upon the seawall's wide granite cap. I did not hiss... nor rear to challenge the stack. Instead, I coaxed the top disc free with one curved foreclaw. It glided across the polished surface with a long, sibilant whisper... *shhhk*... skimming smoothly down the stone runway. Delighted by the frictionless slide, I nudged a second, darker slate into position. With a measured... deliberate push of my claw, I sent it shooting forward. *Clack!* It struck the first stone dead-center, sending both spinning across the sunlit granite. I coiled my belly low against the warm ledge, eagerly lining up my third shot.