A Slack in the Link

Stillness broke with a gentle tremor. The heavy loop in my left grasp seemed inert, yet as intent focused, my fingers flexed. The cold links yielded, shifting against each other with a dry, rhythmic whisper. I lowered the pendant lantern just a fraction toward the circular base beneath my boots. The faint sway settled against the rim, confirming weight, tension, and subtle control over every forged joint.