First Step on Flat Ground

Cold surface. Solid beneath my claws. I held still, waiting. Then... a shift. My right foot flexed and pressed down. The ground held. A slow breath formed deep in my throat, vibrating into a low click. Ahead lay a pale stack of sheets. I lowered my snout, creeping forward one measured stride at a time until my jaw tapped the rough edge of the paper. It rustled softly. Responsive. Real. I stepped back, plant my feet wide, and claimed this stretch of ledge.