Ripples on the Ceramic Rim

A cool shimmer caught my eye from across the pale floor tiles. Moving with measured strides, I circled the heavy ceramic bowl, letting my tail sweep behind me for balance. Inside rested a still, clear pool that held the upside-down reflection of the morning window. I paused, letting a low grunt hum deep in my chest. Stepping closer, I lowered my snout and pressed the tip of my lower jaw against the porcelain rim. A tiny droplet broke the surface, sending sharp, concentric rings racing outward. I held completely still, claws anchored to the grout, watching the distorted light dance across the liquid until it settled back into glass.