A Click in the Hall

A click. Sharp. Down near the floorboards. I locked my talons tighter around the synthetic bark and leaned forward, neck stiff. A shadow stretched long across the hallway carpet, dragging past the shoe rack. I did not flinch. Motionless. A tiny robotic vacuum rounded the corner, whirring its blunt nose into the baseboard with a dull thump. It paused, spun ninety degrees, and purred away into the dark. I gave a dry, raspy scrape of my bill. Harmless intruder. The perimeter holds.