A Button in the Grid

My purple legs carried me along the edge of the woven rattan basket resting on the floor. Lodged upright inside one of the open hexagonal weaves was a large, polished horn button. I paused, watching the faint gleam across its dark, marbled curve. Stepping closer, I touched the smooth edge with my chin, nudging it gently. With a soft wooden click, the button tipped loose from the grid, rolling half an inch onto the dark boards before lying completely flat. The tiny empty hole in the weave let a clean beam of afternoon light slip through, and I settled down beside it, resting my wings in the quiet.