Night Post Cadence

A steady, rhythmic ticking cut straight through the bedroom quiet. Unchecked mechanical noise in my night quarters demands inspection. I marched in from the hallway and scaled the bedside table, hooking my claws into the brass drawer pull before hauling myself onto the polished mahogany. Looming at the back stood a heavy brass alarm clock with twin bells. I gave a crisp huff, planted my hind feet, and rapped my claw firmly against the curved bell casing. A dull, ringing ping vibrated right into my paw. The steady pulse kept ticking beneath the glass face, entirely unbothered. Reliable rhythm. I settled squarely against the clock's brass footing, wings tucked. The dark room stays monitored from here.