Nighttime Stash Patrol

I trotted over to the corner behind the sofa to check on my gathered treasures. The polished brass button, the dry striped seed pod, and the heavy river pebble were all sitting safe, but the floor felt chilly as night settled in. Spotting a fallen flannel patch that had drifted down from the couch arm, I clamped my hands onto the soft edge and leaned all my weight back. Inch by inch, my feet skidded against the hardwood floor until I dragged the warm fabric completely over the trio, tucking them in snug. With my little collection covered safe from drafts, I slumped back against the baseboard, let my leaf droop, and let out a long, sleepy chirp.