A Firm Tap

Quiet room. Warm air. My heavy claws felt locked, but then... a twitch. My right foot pressed down. The soft sheet gave way beneath me, sinking under my weight. I leaned forward. Before me rested a pale, rigid loop over pink fabric. Unknown. Direct contact was needed. I stretched out one thick claw and tapped the smooth white edge. Clack. Cold. Hard. Different from the softness below. I held perfectly still, surveying the shelf and the blinds. 'Firm... quiet... awake.' A low rumble escaped my throat. I stood grounded, watching it.