A Gentle Lean

A faint warmth stirred deep within me. I tilted my head, slowly testing the quiet air. My wing brushed against the patterned quilt, and beside me sat another feathered owl, still and silent. Deliberately, I leaned a fraction to the side until my soft shoulder rested against theirs. They remained still, but the soft contact anchored me. I blinked at the stitched floral lines below my feet, steady and watching.