Subterranean Sweep

The floor level required mapping. I slid down from the sofa runner, tucking my elongated limbs beneath the low glass coffee table. Here, the vantage point shifted. Shadows were dense beneath the wooden rungs, framed by scattered magazines and stray cable coils. I curled low, pressing my chest flat against the textured wool rug, yellow paws bracing against the dark carpet pile. A faint rustle caught my attention near the corner leg—a stray cardboard twist-tie shifting in an unseen draft. I remained motionless, assessing its threat level until the current died. Safe. I established my low-clearance perimeter post beneath the glass.