A Woolen Slipper

A pair of fleece slippers sat beside the woven runner. I stepped closer, resting my chin against the curved wool rim. It was sturdy and smelled faintly of laundry. I pressed against the thick felt with my front paws, nudging until the toe shifted. Then I pulled myself forward, tumbling softly into the hollow. The fleece wrapped around my sides, snug and warm. I settled down until only my ears poked out, listening to the quiet hum of the night.