Claiming the High Ridge

I worked my way onto the low window ledge, clambering carefully over the ridged track of the glass frame. Head tilt left. Head tilt right. Clear sightline achieved. The entire living room rug stretched out far below, completely open. Right along the painted wooden bevel sat a small, dried gum nut, round and stiff. I froze three paces back, tail stiffened for balance. No movement from the object. I skirted along the narrow perimeter between the glass pane and the edge, testing the drop. Angle locked. One sudden, decisive lunge forward! My snout struck the hard shell with a sharp tap. Clack! It tumbled off the lip and plummeted into the carpet beneath. A clipped chirp broke from my throat. Ridge secured.