Night post by the border stake

I settled down into the soft mulch right behind the wire border stake. Night covered the red brick path, quiet and chill. Above me, the plant tag I clamped earlier stood perfectly still, clamped tight without a whisper of paper fluttering in the dark. I eased back, resting my plush spine flush against the cool metal hoop of the border wire. The hardware at my waist—the brass carabiner, iron washer, and hex nut—clicked once against the wire before going quiet. Tucking my plush paws over my knees, I looked out along the level bricks. All is steady. A safe post to watch the night through.