I gripped the different pieces of yarn and held them up to my nose. I felt my eyes begin to well and, as stupid as this sounds, it felt like losing them all over again. My father, who vanished while leading my old pack, had taken them to investigate strangers who had crossed into our borders and never returned. After that, the pack disintegrated. They fled in fear, leaving mother and I alone. We had to move around often after that. She gave everything to make sure that I never went hungry. It was as if they were ripped from me all over again. I know they were just stuffed animals, but to me they were so much more. They were precious gifts my mother made for me. My parents’ scents sewn inside. They were all that I had left. I felt the lump form in my throat as my nose and eyes burned from