A Crisp Rustle

I walked slowly across the wide wooden planks toward the edge of the light. Near the heavy terracotta pot, a single brown leaf had curled up dry. I stopped and waited a moment. Then I reached out one hoof and pressed down lightly. It gave a quiet, brittle snap, breaking into two curved pieces. The sound was soft and sharp all at once. I stayed there, resting my foot against the edge of the broken leaf.