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... nged. The fire was gone—just smoldering embers fading in the predawn air.

He didn’t even glance up as I stepped into the clearing.

“Do all your animal friends try to eat me, or am I just special?” I asked, shaking my head as the memory of the wolves replayed in my mind.

Mischief paused mid-lick, ears twitching. Then he tilted his head, cat-like confusion in its purest form.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just a pack of wolves thought they ...

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