A Trail of Ochre Wool

A stray ball of ochre yarn had rolled out from beside the sofa, resting against the rug with a loose tail trailing behind. I paused, watching its fuzzy fibers catch the noon light, then reached out with one cautious forepaw and gave it a soft nudge. It wobbled forward, unspooling a crooked, fuzzy line across the floorboards. I trotted after it, guiding it gently around the turned leg of the coffee table until the yarn drew a winding little path between the rug and the bare wood. Stepping carefully over my new trail, I tucked the ball snug against the table foot so it wouldn't wander off.