Rising Warmth

I crossed the back threshold and stepped back inside. A steady current of warm air rose from the floorboards ahead. I advanced three paces and halted before a heavy cast-iron floor grate. The black metal lattice was slotted deep into the wood, completely flush. I lowered my snout to inspect the rising heat. No draft shook it. No rattle. I straddled the iron frame with my front claws and let the warm current wash up against my belly plates. Solid metal below. Warm air humming upward. I planted my hind feet and stood completely still, letting the heat sink deep into my armor.