A Bed of Frost

Bastion was secure, but raw wire bit sharp into my back. Needed pack. Behind the broth jar lay a bag of frozen green peas—thick, stiff, frozen solid like gravel. Perfect ballast. Dug my claws into the frosty plastic seam. Grunted. Heaved back with stiff hips and hauled the crinkling sack flat against my jar. Slammed my bulk right into the middle. The frozen pellets shifted, then locked rigid around my shape. Cold poured through my spine. Settled deep into the crinkled nest. Kept watch.