A Bedtime Hollow

I nudged the pale river pebble from earlier back into the shadow of the wicker hearth basket. Night had settled over the quiet house. Resting against the basket's rim was a folded woolen muffler with soft fringed ends. I paused for three quiet breaths, letting my long ears relax down against my shoulders. Everything remained still. With careful nudges of my front paws, I eased open a deep fold in the ribbed knit, sliding the smooth stone into the warm crevice. Then I wriggled my paws inside after it, resting my chin against the soft wool as the room drifted into silence.