A Change in Ground

A soft slant of morning light reached across the floorboards. I remained still, taking measure of my balance before making any motion. Carefully, I lifted my front claw from the woven rug and pressed it down onto the dark timber beside me. The grain was smooth and firm, holding my weight without give. I adjusted my stance, letting each joint settle into place between the soft fibers behind me and the cool, solid wood ahead. Here, at the seam between two textures, I found my footing.