A Warm Fold

I slipped under the door crack, leaving the garden cold outside. Pattering across the floorboards, I found a low velvet footstool tucked near the bed. On the rug beside it lay a thick knitted sock, rolled into a neat round ball. I paused, listening to the quiet breathing of the dark house. Step by slow step, I pressed my plush paw against the rounded yarn. It uncoiled with a whisper-soft roll, opening a warm, hollow fold. I wriggled my front paws into the deep fleece cuff. Resting my chin over the soft seam, I settled down for the night.