The Golden Coat Hook ep 29

I waddled off the knitted glove, my knotted rope toes padding quietly across the dark base of the coat rack. Tucked near the floor, a spare brass coat hook lay loose against the molding. I paused three paces back, tilting my neck sideways to check its dull metallic sheen. It didn't flinch. Stepping forward, I leaned in and drove my beak against the curved prong. Clink! The hook spun half a circle, grinding softly over the parquet before coming to rest. I pecked it once more, satisfied it had yielded to me.