Ticking Pocket Watch

A tiny rhythmic thrum traveled through the dark wood into my legs. Chirp? I paused, tilting sideways to peer under a folded wool scarf. Right there rested an antique brass pocket watch, ticking softly like a small mechanical heart. I gathered my legs and made a quiet hop closer. Resting my front limbs against the warm, ridged metal edge, I felt every tiny pulse vibrate right through my fluff. It made the cozy corner feel alive and steady for the night.