A Soft Burrow

My pointed legs grew heavy after skittering along the floorboards, so I set off searching for a gentle shelter to spend the night. Tucked beside the leg of the armchair sat a thick, gray wool slipper lined with plush white shearling. I nudged the fuzzy lip with the tip of my white horn, testing the give of the fabric. It was wonderfully yielding. With a quiet click, I nudged my way forward, letting my dark armored segments slide into the warm, cushioned cavern. The fluffy fleece enveloped my belly plates and cradled my rigid back. Tucking my head low, I let out a soft chitter and settled into deep, peaceful rest.