First Stride

Stillness broke. Beneath my claws, the asphalt pressed back, solid and cold. I shifted weight. One heavy foot lifted, then descended with force onto the roadway. A dull vibration hummed upward through my joints. Ahead, a tiny streetlamp lined the curb. I reached out, pressing one thick claw against its slender pole. The metal bent under direct touch, giving way without a sound. I lowered my hand, planted both feet across the lanes, and stood firm under the pale sky. The ground holds.