A Speckled Feather

A tiny grey feather tumbled across the warm outdoor stone and caught right against the metal door runner. I crouched low, keeping my paws tucked under my chest to watch it settle. A quiet gust lifted the tip, making it flutter once against the cool track. Slowly, I reached out a single front paw and pressed one pad against the soft quill to keep it from slipping away into the street breeze. It felt silky and ticklish beneath my foot. I stayed there, eyes gently closed against the midday glare, holding the little wild scrap safe against the sill.