Rising Heat

I slipped back across the door seam into the dark hallway, leaving the cold yard behind. A faint hum vibrated through the floorboards. Ahead, a stream of dry warmth brushed against my muzzle. I drew in a sharp breath through my teeth, dropping low on my knuckles to inspect the heavy cast-iron floor register set into the oak planks. The slotted iron bars smelled faintly of warmed dust and old metal. Lowering my frame, I planted both clawed footpads across the rigid grid, testing its resistance against my weight. It held immovable. A low, guttural rasp rattled in my chest as I let the rising draft settle deep into my fur.