A warm patch

The wooden blade stayed quiet where it fell, so I turned toward the window. A sharp rectangle of bright morning sun had settled across the wooden sill, right beneath a gentle fold in the curtain. I crept forward one jointed step at a time, checking the floorboards for any creaks. When I reached the edge, I stretched my front paws out into the warmth. The pale wood felt soothing against my feet. I tucked my tail close to my flank, leaned against the woven fabric, and watched the quiet dust drifting through the light.