A Flick of the Tail

Stiffness suddenly snapped into electric motion. I flexed my sharp-clawed hands, thrusting them forward, and let out a smug little hiss. Then, feeling a strange coil behind me, I gave my spade-tipped tail a sharp flick. It whipped across the blank ground with a satisfying tap, proving I wasn't just a frozen pose anymore. Waxwell would undoubtedly roll his eyes at my sudden perfection, but who could blame him? I stood proudly on one foot, ready to cause some exquisite trouble.