A Soft Snag

I slipped back inside from the chilly canal terrace, shaking the cool mist from my coat. Over on the edge of the woven area rug sat a heavy pinecone, fallen from a mantel wreath. I paused... tilting sideways to study its layered, wooden scales. Moving closer, I pressed both front paws against its curved side to test its weight. It rolled a half turn over the dense yarn with a hushed rustle, but one stiff woody barb caught neatly on a loose strand of cream wool. The pinecone stayed tethered, nodding gently like a small anchor.