A Soft Rustle

The quiet room felt very peaceful. Beneath me, the brown fabric was smooth and printed with faint silhouettes of trees and animals. I paused, letting the silence settle around me. Then, very gently, I tried curling my paw. It moved. The cloth made a soft whisper beneath my pads. I pressed down once more against a dark palm-leaf shape printed on the cotton, feeling the warmth of the bed and the slow, steady rhythm of simply being here.