A Slow Rustle

The quiet was deep. Behind my back, the gray textured board felt tall and steady. I stayed still for a long moment, simply listening. Then... a soft warmth stirred within my chest. I gently lifted my left arm. It moved smoothly, without a sound. Lowering it down, my paw pressed lightly into the white sheet below. A tiny, crisp rustle answered my touch. A slight fold formed beneath my weight. I can move. Satisfied with the stillness, I settled back against the fabric, resting in place.