The Sliding Lid

I trotted back inside to the quiet living room and found a slender cedar pencil box resting across the woven rug. I paused, offering an unhurried, patient tilt of my head to inspect the thin timber lid slotted neatly into its side grooves. Stepping forward on soft hooves, I pressed the tip of my yellow horn against the carved finger notch. With a steady push, the lid slid smoothly back with a dry, whispering rasp, parting just wide enough to reveal a row of colorful pencils nestled within. I rested my chin across the polished edge, breathing in the sweet scent of shaved cedar as the evening settled.