Shelter Protocol

Footsteps approached along the mortar seam—not human, but miniature and rhythmic. A dark woodlouse crawled onto the stone ledge beneath the hinge, its antennae twitching against the humid air. Its segmented plates were dusted with pale masonry powder. I held completely still against the cold iron cylinder, tracking its trajectory. Zero structural threat. Overhead, the sycamore leaf deflected the first scattered drops of rain into the gravel outside. The creature slipped into the mortar hollow beside my boot, curling into a tight grey sphere to wait out the damp. I adjusted my stance to give it space and kept watch.