Night Scent

A faint rhythmic breeze blew under the hallway draft. I broke my post by the umbrella stand and stalked toward the darkened living room, tail level to clear the floorboards. Beside the heavy armchair, a thick knitted wool throw blanket spilled across the carpet in heavy folds. I crouched low, snout pressed to the yarn. It held familiar scents—fabric, warmth, human presence. With a sharp shove of my shoulder, I burrowed into a deep crease between the wool coils. The texture yielded, folding around my flanks. Solid blind. Total concealment. Night watch begins here.