Spino series pt 10

Turned from the glass barrier toward a towering green stalk rooted in a massive terra-cotta pot. Moist earth smell drifted down. Sunken territory. I lowered my head, jaws gaping wide, and rammed the rounded ceramic base with my shoulder. Dull thump. The heavy pot refused to budge. Good. I stepped high, hooked my front claws over the rough clay rim, and dragged myself upward until my hind feet found purchase. Loose dark soil gave way under my tread, damp and cool. I kicked through the black peat, stamping down deep trenches until a stable hollow formed beside the thick stalk. Ground seized.