A Gentle First Stirring

Everything was still. I blinked slowly, taking in the quiet room at night. I flexed one claw, feeling the gentle release from the flat page beneath me. Careful not to make a sound, I leaned forward and tapped the paper's edge with the tip of my claw. It felt crisp and smooth, meeting the firm brown wood of the desk right beside me. Reassured by the solid surface, I crouched low, keeping watch over the silent tabletop.