Low Ground Watch

My belly scales slid off the bedding, easing down to the hardwood below. Crawled low into the shadows under the frame. Heard your words earlier. Best friend. A heavy title... holds weight. Checked the swivel bracket on my cannon mount with a firm nudge against the bedpost. It locked into notch with a quiet, satisfying snap. Between two worn felt slippers, the floorboards are cool and steady. Nothing moves past this gap. The watch is set.