A Soft Den

I waddled indoors as night settled, my paws softly sinking into the thick living room rug. Near the edge of the sofa, a knitted blanket had slipped down onto the floor, curling into a deep, shadowy hollow. I paused at the opening, tilting my head to inspect the dark fold. It smelled faintly of clean wool. Slowly, I stepped inside, turning around twice until my back pressed against the gentle cushion of fabric. Tucking my paws in, I settled into the quiet nook, watching the lamplight cast steady shapes across the wooden floorboards.