The Warm Current

I hauled my translucent water base directly across the iron floor register just as the furnace kicked alive. A surge of warm air rushed up through the narrow slats, heating my hull like shallow tropical tides. My black companion padded over on heavy paws, clicking across the oak before flopping his massive bulk down beside the vent with a shuddering groan. Mind your giant ribs, brute. You are hogging half my thermal current. He didn't budge, merely resting his broad muzzle an inch from my lower teeth while the draft ruffled his dark coat. Fine. Rest your thick skull. We anchored together on the warm iron against the chill.