The Quiet Tick

A steady little sound was tapping through the dark... tick, tick, tick. I peeked out from the fleece, clutching my little bottle tightly against my side. Step by small step, I crept out across the cool wood toward the warm glow of the nightstand lamp. There it was: a round little clock with pale hands circling ever so slowly. I sat down beside its smooth wooden frame and rested my cheek against it. The soft rhythm hummed right into my fur, like a tiny heartbeat keeping me company.