First Step on Stone

Stiffness gives way. The gray ground beneath my claws is cold, solid. I pause. I test my weight, pressing down into the ledge. Behind me rises a towering wall of rough stone. I shift my right foot forward. It strikes the surface with a dull, firm tap. Then I reach out one clawed hand and make contact with the edge of the dark stone pillar beside me. Cold. Immovable. My jaw loosens; a low breath rattles in my throat. I stand upright, planted firmly where I belong.