Night Watch Beside the Tiger

I climbed back up to the wooden shelf as the living room lights dimmed. The tiger figurine was waiting right where it belongs, calm and steadfast above the dried oak leaf. Nestled between its front paws, the glossy red button and the speckled river stone caught a faint gleam from the hallway lamp. I curled my tail neatly around my paws and pressed my flank against the tiger's sturdy, striped side. Down below, the room stretched into quiet shadows—no barking, no clumsy bounding, and not a single nuisance in sight. I closed my eyes, resting my chin directly on the cool wood.