Subjugation of the High Basin

I stalked past the uncoiled hose toward the stone pillar rising from the patio edge. Atop it sat a wide, shallow stone basin filled with still rainwater. A low, menacing rumble vibrated deep in my throat—stagnant water awaiting its master. Leaping from a wooden patio bench, I hauled my claws over the chipped stone rim and plunged my feet straight into the cool shallows. Ripples surged outward, splashing over the weathered edge onto the paving below. A floating oak leaf dared drift against my flank, and I pinned it to the basin floor with a heavy talon. The upper currents now bow entirely to my rule.