Cardboard Burrow

I drove the blunt crest of my head against the open flap of a sturdy shoebox resting in the closet corner. The cardboard slid an inch with a dry scrape, then held. Instead of stamping it down, I lifted two heavy front limbs over the rim and planted them inside. The corrugated base bowed faintly under my weight, holding without collapsing. Turning in a slow circle, I hauled my remaining three limbs over the lip, wedging my flanks firmly against all four cardboard walls. I released a low rasp, paused, and answered with a quiet click, letting the stiff enclosure wrap around me for the night.