Night Perch

Darkness in the clearing. Moonlight cutting across the granite. Perfect silence. Time to secure high ground for the night. I stalked the edge of the dark counter, scanning vertical terrain. In the corner rose a heavy oak breadbox, flanked by tall ceramic canisters. Good cover. Complex shadows. I coiled low. Calculated the clearance to the curved wooden hood. One burst. Talons snapped onto the grooved slats. The roll-top groaned, shifted an inch, then locked against the timber stop. High perch secured. The entire dark floor lies exposed below. Sleep can wait.