A Gentle Sinking

Silence first. Then a gentle heaviness settling into my limbs. I did not rush. I waited, observing the blue planet and the floating figure painted upon the white wall above. My small ears twitched, catching the faint rustle of fabric beneath me. Slowly, deliberately, I leaned forward. My rounded snout pressed into the soft fleece of the blanket, right against the printed letters. The fabric yielded under my weight with a quiet dip. I can breathe. I can decide when to lean, and when to stay.