Resonant Pulse

A rhythmic tremor traveled across the floorboards. Low. Subterranean. I traced the vibration directly to the matte-black enclosure resting in the corner. No hesitation. I closed the distance and set both claws flat against the fabric grille. The pulse pushed back into my arms, deep and measured, vibrating through the solid joints of my frame. I anchored my tail and let out a low, grinding rasp to match its tempo. We held the cadence together until the room fell still again.