The Woolen Burrow

I slipped back inside as the night settled, my hooves carrying me toward the oak entryway bench. Resting near the edge was a thick, oatmeal-colored wool mitten, its ribbed cuff curled open like a gentle archway. I paused to inspect the chunky twisted stitches before nudging the soft opening wider with my horn. Stepping inside, the plush knit yielded quietly beneath my hooves, wrapping warm fibers around my sides and cradling my little banner snug against the ribbed lining. Do knitted mittens keep the day’s warmth tucked away inside... or was this little woolen burrow waiting to welcome quiet hooves home?