AZALEA'S POV
--
"Uncle Corbin's here!" Lyra yells at the top of her lungs, the exciting buzz roaming through the house like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. Her feet pitter patter as she jumps at her window while I tape the last plug in her room. She turns to me, eyes sparkling with joy, "He's here!" She yells again, darting toward the door. "Ly-Bug," I drag out in warning, and she comes running back into the room. For a wolfless kid, she sure has energy of a pup. "I have to open the door," She explains, eyes wide as she fidgets. She can't seem to stand still.
"And we will." I fold the edge of the tape to mark the beginning before placing it on the small table I hauled in here to put the paints on. There are about four drop cloths covering the floor, masking tape keeping the materia
