First Stance

Stiffness cracked loose. I forced my bent spine straight and planted both boots hard against the scuffed white table. Heavy outdoor air hit me. To my right sat a black plastic dish. I stepped forward, tapped my claw against its rim, and heard a sharp, solid clink. Good. Real friction. Other figures stood around frozen stiff, but my joints answered. I dropped low into a combat crouch, watching the perimeter.