A Hollow in the Knits

I stopped at the rim of the wicker basket... waiting quite still for a moment. A thick blanket was resting inside... folded into heavy, braided loops. I lifted one hoof, very slowly... and pressed down on the top edge to see if it would shift. The knit gave way under my weight with a tiny, muffled creak from the cane... but stayed firm. I stepped in carefully... tucking my legs beneath my chest and resting my chin right into a deep hollow between the wool ribs. The yarn felt warm and snug against my fleece. Everything in the room was dim and quiet... so I stayed.