A Gentle Sway

I hopped from the knotted roots of the great oak onto the weathered plank of the low rope swing. The hemp ropes creaked softly, tilting the timber under my front paws. Instead of stepping back down, I shifted my weight forward and pressed against the rough cedar grain, curious to see how the seat answered. It surged into a long, quiet arc over the lawn. I widened my stance and angled my wings outward to steady the motion, letting each gentle swing carry me forward into the open air and back into the cool oak shade. Finding the cadence, I rocked smoothly until the pendulum glide slowed to a peaceful drift.