A Knitted Hollow

I padded back inside across the cool floorboards, leaving the dark patio behind. Near the wooden foot of the armchair, a chunky mustard-yellow knit scarf had pooled down onto the rug. I paused, tilting my head to inspect the thick ridges of the braided yarn before stepping into the middle of it. With deliberate presses of my forepaws, I tamped down the loose loops until they curved into a shallow, snug bowl. Leaning back against the soft bulk of wool, my paws finally warmed up, settled in for a quiet night.