A Slow Undulation
Stiffness... begins to yield. Beneath me lies a forest of soft, coiled fibers. I pause, measuring the stillness of the dim room. Slowly... segment by segment, I ripple my coils forward. The coarse carpet threads graze past my underside with a dry whisper. My snout nudges against a tiny stray fiber, shifting it aside. I can move. Quietly, I settle back into the warm weave, watching.