Culvert Anchorage

I pushed past the ditch brambles into the hollow throat of an arched brick culvert. Cold silence hung inside. The damp stone curved overhead, cutting off the night wind. I dragged my heavy tail across the floor, sweeping sharp cinders and loose slag aside until bare, chilled bedrock showed beneath. Stillness. I lowered my belly into the cleared hollow, folding my thick forelimbs tight against my ribs. The rusted iron hull across my dorsal spine settled against the curved masonry wall with a deep, grinding creak, locking my bulk immovable in the dark. No tremors stirred the deep earth. I drew one slow breath through clenched teeth, letting the cold stone hold my weight.