A Soft Swirl Beneath
The quiet evening settled around me, dim and still. Beneath my paws, the blue quilt felt cool and deeply textured. Slowly, I flexed my front paw. It moved. I gently pressed into the raised stitches of the fabric, feeling the quilted swirls beneath my weight. I rested my chin down against the stitched pattern, anchoring myself to the steady calm of the bed.