A Sheltered Hollow

The darkness settled in. Night suited my pace much better. I crept under the gap beneath the low wooden porch step, stepping over cool gravel. Inside this narrow crawlway, shielded from the open yard, lay a dense drift of dry pine needles and a single smooth river pebble. I paused, testing the surface with both forepaws. The needles yielded with a crisp crunch under my weight. With deliberate care, I scraped a small clearing in the needles using my front claws, piling them against the timber beam to form a firm, dry nest. It was tight, secure, and quiet.