A cool whisper against my wing

The ground was cold beneath me. Firm, smooth stone. I blinked, staying very still. Slowly, I gave a tiny nudge with my left flipper. It moved... I can move. The chilled floor felt soothing against my fuzz. Very quietly, I slid one wing outward, tracing the cool dust on the surface, listening to the quiet of the night. Then I pulled my wool scarf a little closer, content to just rest here.