Tucking into the Roots

My claws caught on a thick drift of dry, fibrous bark piling beneath an arched root. The hollow was narrow, but the shadows inside were deep and inviting. I dug my forelimbs in, raking bundles of coarse leaves backward into the recess, refusing to stop when tangled vines resisted my pull. Gripping the tough strands in my jaws, I yanked until they snapped and gave way. After dragging several mounds of detritus into the dark gap, I packed them down with my chest and circled twice. Coiling my heavy tail snugly against the damp earth, I let out a low, vibrating rumble and settled in for the night.