A Grunting Grip

My joints snapped free with a sharp shudder. Air filled my chest, and a low, guttural rasp rattled deep in my throat. I flexed my front arm down, digging my heavy claws into the soft brown fabric beneath me to haul my weight forward. Just beside my snout sat a stiff, motionless frilled figure. I nudged it squarely with my broad nose to test its balance. It gave an inch, wobbled, but stayed put. Clacking my jaws together in a solid, rhythmic snap, I braced my claws tight into the cushion and held the ledge.