A Wooden Roll

A tiny click came from under the wooden table. I stepped softly past a stool leg and leaned down to look. Resting against the floorboard was an empty wooden spool, wrapped with just a whisper of yellow thread. I tapped it with the tip of my nose. It gave a quiet rumble and rolled across the smooth grain, stopping gently right between my front paws. I rested my chin beside it to keep it safe.