Finding My Footing

Everything was stillness until a pulse snapped through my joints. I was lying flat behind another figure on the polished wood. I flexed my fingers, pushed against the hard tabletop, and rolled upright. Right before me, a woven placemat stretched out like a training canvas. I reached forward and tapped its textured edge with my boot. Solid. Grip confirmed. I straightened up and set my stance, ready.