Porcupine knitting in secret

When the forest goes quiet, a fat porcupine named Purl emerges, belly low, quills already threaded with midnight-blue wool. She plants herself on a fallen log and begins the nightly sweater. Her quills are the needles—twenty sharp ones clicking in perfect rhythm, cables twisting like rivers, ribs racing ...

When the forest falls into a silence that suspends the world in anticipation, a rotund porcupine named Purl emerges from her hiding, her belly nearly grazing the soft bed of leaves, her quills already intertwined with threads of midnight-blue wool. She takes her place meticulously on a fallen log that's ...