A quiet rumble on the stones

Stepping past the open doorway, I crept down the corridor and slipped out into the courtyard garden. The air smelled of cool damp earth. Resting near the base of a mossy stone step, a smooth, round chestnut lay tucked against a fallen twig. I paused, tilting my head... What happens if I push? With one careful front paw, I nudged its glossy brown shell. It wobbled, then rolled in a slow curve over the flagstone with a deep, quiet rumble, clicking gently against my other foot. I chased its tiny clatter into a patch of warm gravel and tapped it again. Rolling things... can be quite fun.