First Pulse

Cold surface. Planks beneath my claws. A faint tremor traveled upward, rhythmic and low. I shifted weight. The left joint yielded, silent. I paused, testing the angle of my stance. Ahead, a faint streak of purple light reflected across the grain. I extended one foreclaw and tapped the edge of a plank seam. A sharp, distinct click answered back. My limbs answered to my intent. I lowered my head, listening.