A Golden Curio

I slipped back through the garden door into the quiet house, carrying the bright yellow birch leaf carefully clamped in my front claw. Approaching the familiar low shelf, I knelt softly on the timber floor beside my crescent of treasures. The pale sea glass, downy feather, speckled pebble, and curved terracotta shard lay undisturbed. With a delicate nudge of my horn, I eased the birch leaf into the open curve at the end of the line. Its golden tip caught the warm glow of the reading lamp, settling flat against the polished floorboards like an ember at rest.