Fiona’s POV
The next day…
The afternoon sun barely made it through the thick canopy of trees. Its light splattered in golden splotches across the mossy earth. I was down by the creek in the middle of the territory, picking twigs out of my hair with my fingers. The faint shuffle of small feet made me turn.
At first, I expected one or two pups — probably sneaking off from another half-baked prank.
Wrong.
A full little troop stood there, lined up like a wobbly parade, their tails swishing wildly behind them. Their arms? Full. Overflowing with a clumsy-looking bundle of sticks, feathers, and bits of thread. It was a mess. A beautiful mess.
“Fiona,” Lily piped up, eyes glowing like tiny suns. “We made you something.”
Me? I blinked. I was mad unsure if I heard her right.
“For me?” I ask
