A Quiet Shift

Everything was still. Then, slowly... my gaze shifted. I felt the woven grey fabric beneath my feet, firm and quiet. I wondered if I could move, so I turned my head just a fraction. It responded smoothly. I reached out slightly, pressing the tip of my wing against the coarse ribbing of the cushion seam. A faint, dry rustle answered back. I paused, letting the silence settle again. I remained nestled in the fold of the couch, watching the soft morning light fill the quiet space.