A story in which Raggedy Angie (who I don't think I've posted on here before) hosts their birthday party. Critiques are greatly appreciated!

The story:
Even by 11:58 PM, nobody showed up to Angie’s birthday party. With their tail curled around them, Angie waited at the front door with nothing but the cold January winds to keep them company. On the kitchen table, their cake’s candles remained unlit, and each napkin, plate, and hat hadn’t moved an inch. Until the guests came to disturb them, Angie wouldn’t do anything with their birthday dessert and decorations.
However, the wind would. The ceiling fringe rustled and each paper plate blew away. The hung-up paper cranes swayed, and with a particularly strong gust of wind, took flight and scattered. Soon, nearly every decoration tapped and slid across the tiled floor, and by midnight Angie’s kitchen and living room had their own swirling storms of colored paper.
Angie didn’t care. In fact, their ears hadn’t turned to listen. Though the wind tugged at their yarn hair and whipped their whiskers, they kept their eyes squinted open enough to see that there was still nobody at the door. Only at 12:01 AM did Angie turn to the clock and realize that their birthday was officially over. With that, they sighed, turned around, and slumped over as they walked to their couch. They stepped right on their decorations without caring and ignored the mess around them, frowning until they were able to sleep on the couch’s warm cushions. The cake would have to wait until breakfast.
Although the wind quieted down, sleep wasn’t peaceful that night. A paper crane flew to Angie’s nose and landed, before pecking it until Angie opened their eyes. It looked up at them, before hopping into their hair. Angie waved their paw and watched the crane fly away, but it only circled the room before landing next to them on the couch. Nervously, Angie stared, but this time the crane kept its distance. Again, they curled up and tried to get a good night’s rest.
It seemed that the second Angie closed their eyes, the crane hopped right back to them again. At first, it sat right in front of them on the couch cushion, but it built up the courage to crawl around in Angie’s hair. They lifted their head up and shook, but the crane held tight. However, Angie stopped waving their hair when they heard a high-pitched sound. Around the room, there wasn’t a single thing that could’ve possibly made that noise, but it was perfectly clear to them and they refused to believe it wasn’t real. Again and again, their eyes scanned the moonlit room; the only thing they should be hearing right now was the wind, unless whatever made the noise was hidden from their view. The sound was close, though. They pointed their ears forward and focused harder on the floor, but they still found nothing.
“Peep!”
Angie looked straight up, then ran a paw through their yarn hair. The crane tumbled out and landed right in front of them on the couch cushion and shook itself off before facing them.
“Peep! Peep!”
The crane poked Angie’s paw with its beak, then jumped in circles. Angie leaned forward until their face was right in front of the crane’s, then slowly pressed their nose against its beak. It peeped again, leaned back, then pecked them on the nose. Angie jumped up and stood with their back arched, watching the crane’s every movement with wide eyes. Their ear turned to the floor when another peep, slightly lower in pitch, came from down on the tiles. That crane flapped up and joined the first, and the two greeted each other by pecking at both their faces before looking up at Angie, then the dinner table. They looked back and forth between the two, each glance getting dramatically faster until they faced each other again.
Both cranes took flight and landed on the floor, where they pecked the others of their kind. One by one, each crane awoke and took flight until the living room had a fluttering mass of peeping paper creatures, and once there were no more cranes asleep the cloud swerved toward the kitchen table. Angie watched in amazement and joy at all the color and life, then followed them. While the cranes waited for everybody to land on the table, Angie crouched at the doorway and watched, smiling, with their tail swishing back and forth. The yarn picked up bits and pieces of paper decorations, but they didn’t notice. Once the table was crowded and noisy, the crane Angie met first leapt onto their birthday cake and gave a series of especially loud but inspiring peeps to all its paper friends. Sometimes, the others peeped back.
Something moved through Angie’s tail. They turned around just as the scraps of paper from their ceiling fringe wriggled out like inchworms. Each piece moved towards the sound of the crane’s speech, carefully maneuvering around the tile, up the table legs, then through the crowd of cranes. The paper plates were next to join the party, swirling through the air despite a noticeable lack of wind. Quite a disturbance came from the party hats; each time they tried to take a seat, the cranes trapped beneath them squeaked with annoyance.
However, each decoration’s journey came to an end when Angie’s crane flapped its wings and screeched a loud call that echoed throughout the house. As one chaotically-colored mass, every piece of paper descended upon Angie’s cake, making thousands of wet chewing noises. It didn’t take long for the cake to be completely gone, and soon after, the decorations dispersed out the front door, either squirming or flying their way into the moonlight with frosting all over them.
Angie leapt onto a chair in the kitchen. On their tabletop was a fancy ceramic plate and a few unlit candles, but not a single crumb. Had somebody walked into the kitchen without knowing Angie had a cake only seconds ago, they never would’ve guessed there was anything to eat. Pawing at the empty plate, Angie looked closer and confirmed that there truly was nothing left. With that, they leapt for joy; their birthday party had been a last-second success!