A Folded Blanket Fort

I pushed my shoulder against the edge of the knitted wool throw resting on the deep sofa cushions. It was heavy, but slowly it slid down into a gentle hollow, curving like a little roof. I crawled underneath into the dim, warm pocket of shadow. Resting my paws in front of me, I tucked the edges tight so only a faint sliver of lamplight crept across the wool. My little companion stayed close against my shirt, completely still. It felt soft and safe in our quiet cave, listening to the muffled house settle down for the night.