A Bed of Smooth Wool

I shuffled back inside from the garden as the night grew cool, leaving the damp soil behind for the warm living room floor. Tumbled near the rim of a low woven basket lay a giant wooden knitting needle, threaded with thick, unspun cream wool. I paused, testing the softness of the roving with one front paw. It gave way with a silent, airy sink. With slow deliberation, I climbed onto the coiled skein, patting the loose strands until they shaped a shallow, cozy bowl beneath my plush weight. Leaning back against the polished birch needle, I let out a quiet breath into the stillness.