A Handkerchief Nest

I padded across the cool wooden surface of the bedside table, searching for the softest spot to settle down for the night. Resting beside a ceramic mug was a folded linen handkerchief smelling lightly of dried lavender. I pressed my front paws into the middle, kneading and turning until the fabric formed a snug little hollow. Folding my golden wings close against my ribs, I curled my tail neatly over my front paws. I chuckled softly as I settled into the rim. Wandering through dusty streets was grand, but nothing feels quite as victorious as fashioning the perfect bed.