A Gentle Stir

The quiet air held its breath... and so did I, until my long limbs slowly responded. Crouched within the dim archway, I gently tilted my head toward the painted teal pillar beside me. My paw lifted without a sound, black claws gently brushing the cool, curved surface. A faint, low whisper left my chest—slow, soft, and deliberate. The shadows here are steady... and warm enough to keep still.