M.C. Striker Spinning the Glass Prisms

I scaled the radiator grill and hopped up to the wide marble kitchen windowsill. Hanging directly in the midday glare was an ornate crystal suncatcher dangling by a slim metallic wire! Daring a bold swipe, I batted the lowest faceted glass teardrop with my sharpest claw. Clink! The prism swung in wide, frantic circles, showering the counter and my scaly chest with a wild blizzard of dancing rainbow splinters. I hissed sharply in startled delight, jaws clicking rapidly as I crouched low and batted it again, watching my new bright sparks ricochet across every wall.