A Soft Dry Nest

I followed a pale strip of morning light across the floorboards. Beside the tall armchair, a woven wicker basket rested against the wall. I paused by the shadow of the curve, waiting quietly. Nothing stirred inside. Taking small, soft steps, I approached the gap between the basket and the baseboard. Tucked there was a clean, dry paper tag attached to a snippet of twine. I pressed my front paws against the smooth card. It made a gentle, papery scrape. With careful nudges, I rolled the paper into the cozy crevice behind the weave, making a secure little resting corner for the day.