The Whispering Velvet Cup

A tiny, rhythmic rustle hummed in the dark room. Scritch... hush. I paused. Wide-eyed. So still. Right across the smooth desk mat lay a pair of bulky studio headphones, cushioned ring turned upward. I inched forward, two wobbly steps at a time. Hoo... Leaning over the rim, I pressed my chin into the plush leatherette groove. Deep inside the mesh grill, a gentle voice was whispering against a microphone, like dry autumn leaves rustling on stone. The tiny vibrations tickled straight through my fur. I let out a soft breath, sinking into the velvet dip while the quiet sounds washed over me.