A Soft Fold

I followed the quiet rustle over to the tall wicker basket. A thick knitted wool blanket hung over the edge, dipping down almost to the floor. I paused, tilting my ears to listen to the soft, rhythmic creak of the floorboards. Slowly, I reached out and gently gathered a fold of the warm wool against my chest. It smelled dusty and sweet, muffling all the sharp evening sounds into a gentle murmur. I curled into the quiet drape, letting out a small, satisfied chirp.