A Woollen Nest

I came back inside as the night deepened, shaking the workshop dust from my fur. Near the corner of the hearth rug, a thick, ribbed woolen sock had slid down from a wicker laundry basket, resting in a soft heap on the floorboards. I paused, listening to the slow, steady tick of the wall clock before creeping close. Kneeling down on both knees, I pressed both plush paws into its chunky knit. It was wonderfully soft, thick, and held a gentle, lingering warmth. Moving inch by inch, I rolled the cuff inward to form a round, sheltered rim, then tucked my paws onto the plush heel, humming softly into the quiet.