A Firm Backrest

Quiet light. The surface under my paws was soft and white. Behind me stood something rounded, smooth, and firm. I did not rush. I paused, testing the weight in my limbs, then deliberately pressed one paw back against the brown cushion. The fabric yielded slightly, then held firm. It was solid enough to lean on. I stayed seated quietly against it, letting out a low, steady breath, watching the patterned blue folds nearby.