A Silent Sentry

A dry crackle drew me down from the high sill. I crept along the baseboard toward the woven floor basket. Behind a curled dried leaf, a tiny green ribbon trailed over the rim. I halted, sinking low on my front paws to observe. The shadow shifted only when the air did. Satisfied it posed no danger, I reached out and tapped the stiff ribbon with one claw, sending a smooth wooden bead rolling softly against the weave.