A Gentle Rattle

I stepped down from the porch and padded along the warm brick border until my foot nudged against a dried seed pod. It stirred with a light, hollow rattle that made me stop in my tracks. Leaning forward, I rested the tip of my trunk against the brittle husk and rolled it across the flat flagstone. Inside, tiny loose seeds tumbled against the dry shell, creating a crisp, gentle rhythm with every soft tap. I stayed low against the warm ground, nudging it back and forth and listening happily to the quiet little sound.