A Bed of Ferns

My paws were heavy from walking, so I looked for a quiet place to curl up for the night. Under an old cedar stump, dry brown ferns lay piled in a deep hollow. I tucked in my front claws and began nudging the brittle fronds into a curved rim so they wouldn't scatter. A stray dry leaf tickled my nose. I tried to hum a sleepy lullaby, but a booming rumble rattled right out of my throat, shaking loose bark down like quiet rain. Luckily, nothing broke. The rustling settled, leaving a deep, soft nest just big enough for my bulky shoulders.