A Crisp Morning Tap

I peeked out from beneath the fabric edge. Warm morning light stretched across the smooth floorboards, pointing straight toward a big ceramic pot. I paused, watching the still dust float. Nothing stirred? I took three careful hops forward. Right near the pot's shadow rested a brown, curled leaf. I leaned close. Did it move? Slowly, I extended one green foot and pressed down. *Crunch.* A sharp, wonderful little crackle! I pulled back, eyes wide, waiting. The room stayed quiet. So I reached out again, tapping lightly with my claws to make the dry sound once more... a lovely morning tune.