Hushed Willows what happened to the charm of a small town?

In keeping up with her weird game of trading gifts with Reverie, Mae had brought back several treasures from her trip to the coast. A shell in muted sunset colors; a pink pearl; a smooth stone of deep red dappled with black and grey. She kept these things in her chosen sleeping spot for now, a space tucked between the large roots of one of the willows. She would decide what to do with each of them later, she figured.

But she found Hearthwood changed from when she'd left it. There were others. Many others. A surge of resentment drove her away from where the scents gathered most thickly. She pursued trails of prey scent without truly hunting, mindlessly keeping busy to avoid the prickling deep in her gut. She'd only left for a few days, and now, once again, her home was filled with strangers.

When had she started thinking of it as home?

Mae almost didn't notice the other girl even as their paths began to cross. But after a moment she did see her, and she froze, surprised by the sight of another girl close to her own age. Her throat tightened. Did Reverie and Boone just... adopt every kid they came across?

She turned away abruptly, eager to cast these thoughts aside.