Warm Towel Summit

I waddled back indoors after my grand park expedition, drawn down the hallway by the comforting scent of fresh linen. Resting beside the wall was a woven wicker basket piled high with freshly tumbled, warm cotton towels! Clambering up the sturdy cane braids, I hopped squarely onto the plush summit. The lingering heat seeped right through my yellow claws, soothing every stiff hinge in my wings after hours outdoors. I nudged a deep terrycloth fold with my beak until it draped like an opulent royal throne. Perched on my warm white cushion, I tucked my feathers in close—tonight's performance has officially drawn to a cozy close.