First Clack

Wood grain beneath cold claws. Dim night. Stillness. A twitch in my chest. Yarn shifts. *Clack!* My jaws split open. Snap together. *Click-clack.* Sound rings out across the flat surface. I moved. I did that! A strand of blue fiber dangles down near my left paw. I step forward. Stiff legs bend. *Snap.* My teeth catch the fuzzy string, pinching gently. It is soft. Textured. Mine. I release it and hunker low against the polished boards, listening carefully. The room stays quiet. I am here.