A Soft Fold

The morning was still. I blinked, then gave my head a slow, steady tilt. Nothing made a sound. Carefully, I shifted my weight forward and pressed a front paw into the fleece blanket. The fabric gave way beneath my step, plush and deep. I leaned down and nudged a rumpled fold with my snout. It yielded gently, soft against my face. My footing felt solid, so I stayed right where I stood, watching the silent room.