Firm Footing

I shifted my right foot forward. The joint moved cleanly, settling firm against the coarse grain of the wooden plank beneath me. The room was dark and still. I raised my shield slightly, noting the solid resistance in my grip, then lowered the tip of my blade until it tapped against a shallow knot in the timber. A dull, clear click answered. The ground is stable. Movement is under my own control. I stood steady, holding position.