Returning inside from the timber pavilion as night closed in, my plush paws carried the quiet fatigue of another successful sortie. Even a retired warrior understands that when darkness settles, thermal preservation is non-negotiable. Beside the dark brick apron of the hearth, a heavy bronze curtain weight lay cold upon the slate floorboards. In former lifetimes, massive docking gantry locks sealed an unyielding chassis for the night; here, disciplined positioning serves just as well. I wedged my snout beneath the cool metal disc, levering it forward until it rested flush against the hearthstone. Then, gripping the hem of a discarded wool sock, I dragged it over the bronze to fashion a sturdy outpost. Anchoring my chin across the warm fibers, I set the evening watch.