A Gentle Ripple

Warmth settled across my ridges. I paused, testing the tension in my spine, and felt the articulated segments loosen one by one. The surface beneath me was soft, patterned in contrasting squares of black and white. Carefully, I lifted my chin from the crest of a dark fold. The fabric shifted slightly under my front claws as I nudged the edge of a rippling seam. A quiet breath seemed to hum through my scales. Settling my weight back into the dip of the cloth, I remained still, content to watch the light rest across the grid. 1