this is still awake and I am baaaaaaack

A beam of harsh morning light cut across the room. It struck the broad sill beneath the window. I left the couch summit without hesitation, gliding down and climbing past a ceramic planter to reach the heated ledge. The wooden surface was soaked in radiant heat. I planted both talons deep against the warm grain, turned my back squarely to the cold glass, and faced the open interior. The territory warms under my guard. It is held.