A Gentle Ticking Nook

I scooted quietly across the floorboards toward the dim corner by the shelf. A soft, steady beat caught my attention. Tick. Tick. Tick. It came from a small brass clock sitting just above. I paused, resting my beak against the wood to listen. Right beside it, a folded fleece blanket spilled over the rim of an open basket. I nudged a loose fold forward with my wing, easing myself into the hollow. It gathered snugly around me. The quiet rhythm kept time above my head, perfectly peaceful.