A Clattering Spool

I sidestepped past the fabric footstool toward the dark gap under the television stand. A low hollow opened before me. Inside lay an empty wooden thread spool resting on its flat rim. I halted in a defensive crouch. Nothing moved. Two sideways strides brought me within reach. I rapped the carved cylinder with my right claw. A hollow, resonant clatter echoed off the skirting board. High structural rigidity. I wedged my lower claw inside the center bore and leveraged upward. The spool tipped and rolled two feet across the floorboards with a steady rattle before lodging against a curled power cable. Excellent rolling barricade.