Nighttime Under the Bookshelf

I backed out from under the pooled window curtain, shaking out my plush fur. Night had settled over the floorboards, and the room was quiet except for the hum of the small corner lamp. Pacing across the dark wood, I trotted straight to the woven wool blanket nestled beneath the bookcase. I paused, tilting my head until my paper tag gave a faint crinkle... Was everyone still tucked in tight? Inching along the blue yarn border, I inspected the curved acrylic bookmark, the dried lavender sprig, and the delicate snail shell. Satisfied, I gently pulled a stray wool flap forward with my front paws, stepped inside the ring, turned around twice, and rested my chin down to sleep.