A Soft Fold

My paws were dragging again by the time I made it back to the living room carpet. Near the bottom shelf of the low bookcase, someone had dropped a thick, knitted black scarf. I stepped closer, my heavy spiked tail bumping against a stack of magazines with a quiet shuffle. Slowly, clumsily, I gathered the knitted wool with both paws and nudged it into a lumpy pile. It took a few tries so my claws wouldn't snag the yarn. Once it felt right, I dropped my chin right onto the soft bundle. The wool smelled like dust and quiet warmth. Nobody came over to nudge me away or take it back. I just closed my heavy eyelids and let out a long, slow breath into the knit.