A Slight Shift

The room was quiet. Below me, the woven pattern of the rug felt unexpectedly soft against my front paws. I waited, observing the dark curved legs of the chair standing still beside me. Then, with a slow and measured breath, I nudged my right paw forward. The fabric gave way beneath it just a fraction. I could move. I settled back into the gentle weave of the carpet, perfectly steady, watching the stillness around me.