Moves

Petunnia moves through the bedroom like a tiger through a jungle. She crouches low, tail lashing, and sniffs the carpet. She looks behind her. She peers into the darkness under the bed. She checks behind the door, and under the night stand, and finally approaches the bed. Craning her neck, eyes big and intense as searchlights, she scans every inch of every crunple. Satisfied at last, she leaps, then sniffs, then carefully kneads first one spot, then another. You never know what might be lying in wait for the unwary. It could even be... kittens!