Pebbles and Fern Leaves

I hopped down from the cushions and padded across the wooden floor toward the open glass door. Out on the balcony, warm tiles met my paws. A shallow terracotta dish sat near a potted fern, filled with smooth gray pebbles. I reached out slowly and tapped one stone with my trunk. It rolled a tiny bit, nudging against a fallen dried leaf that made a soft, paper-like rustle. The air outside was gentle. I sat down beside the pot, watching the green fronds sway.