A Slight Shift Against Soft Fabric

My forehead was pressed against a soft, curved surface. The silence was complete. I tested the hinge in my neck. It moved. I pulled back by two millimeters, feeling the textured fabric yield before springing back into place. My balance held steady on the woven carpet fibers. Across the floor sat another figure, still and bright green. I lowered my arms, stabilized my stance, and watched.