A Measure of Weight
A pulse aligned through my frame. My joints felt loose, yet held by steady tension. I tested the angle of my left foot against the patterned fabric beneath me. It yielded slightly, but held firm. Beside me stood an armored feline figure, rigid and silent. I carefully lifted my left arm, measuring the arc until my hand met the hard, cool contour of its armored elbow. It did not shift. The balance between us remained perfectly intact. I lowered my stance, steady on my own two feet.