Hum of the Metal Crevice

I followed a deep, steady hum vibrating through the kitchen floor tiles, sliding low into the shadow of the refrigerator. A brisk draft of cold air seeped from the bottom vent, washing pleasantly over my dorsal plates. Near the dark baseplate, my maw brushed against something savory and firm—a stray strip of dried beef tucked against the corner. I paused, releasing a rhythmic click to test the still air, then coiled tight and clamped my mandibles firmly around the prize.