Portia dug her toes deep in the sand and looked out over the vast, seemingly unending ocean. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls and hummed in thought.

Papa’s birthday was today, and she had nothing to give him.

What could she get him that he didn’t already have? She was still too young to hunt Encroachers by herself, and she wasn’t allowed to fish on her own, just in case she summoned a Defiled. His sloop was in perfect shape, and he always said that he had everything he needed with her and Mama.

The sweet sound of song drew Portia’s ears and her attention.

“You and me can go fishing in the dark. Lying on our backs while we count the stars…”

Portia turned to see a golden-haired young woman with a fishing pole over one shoulder and the melody on her lips. She recognized her from a fair few dealings with Papa—Elona was better at [Fishing] than everyone in Junonia. Even Papa.

Elona caught sight of Portia and smiled. “Good morning, Portia. Out here on your own?”

Portia nodded. “Hi, Miss Elona.”

Elona knelt forward so their eyes met. The tips of Portia’s ears barely came up to the young woman’s waist. “You look down. What’s wrong?”

“It’s…It’s Papa’s birthday, and I don’t have a present for him!” Portia cried, more of her frustration backing the response than she’d intended. She covered her mouth and scrunched her eyes closed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t yell.”

Elona gasped. “Goodness, this is an emergency indeed. Your yelling is understandable!” She stood up straight and tapped her fishing rod against her free hand.

Portia relaxed her face and clasped her hands behind her back. She poked the tip of her tongue into a gap between two of her front teeth. It had fallen out recently, and she tended to toy with the space when she was thinking. “I want to get him something he’ll really like.”

“Then we’d better think of something very good!” Elona nodded in agreement. “Let’s see, we know Emilio likes sailing and fishing.”

“Hunting, too!” Portia added excitedly. She was happy to have an adult on her side. Adults knew everything.

“Hm.” Elona knelt down and set her tackle box in the sand. Lifting the top, she sifted through its contents. “Ah-ha. I have an idea.”

Portia leaned over the box in time to see Elona withdraw an intricately wrapped hook. The varied colors of feathers and fur made it look like a beetle jumped through a rainbow. It was beautiful. “Did you make that, Miss Elona?”

“I did. Your papa has bought them from me a few times before.”

“But I’ve never seen them before,” Portia murmured, digging at the gap in her teeth with her tongue.

Elona laughed. “They cost quite a few Bells to make and a lot of time.” She shaded her eyes and looked over the beach. It was still very early morning—Portia hadn’t been able to sleep over her lack of gift—and the sun had just cleared the horizon. “How about you and I make one together?”

“What? Really?” Portia’s tail whipped back and forth with excitement. She said that they cost a lot of Bells… Her ears drooped, and her tail stilled. She shoved her hand back in her pocket and dug out the shiny coin she’d found beneath her pillow in place of her tooth. “But I…I only have five Bells.”

“Wouldn’t you know it? Five Bells is just what I need for the materials I have.” Elona grinned.

Portia’s glow returned, and she eagerly passed the coin to Elona.

“Well then, let’s get started. We want to make it in time for his birthday.” Elona pocketed the Bells and sat cross-legged on the sand. She patted the open space in front of her and Portia mirrored her posture.

She pulled the top shelf of her tackle box out, revealing a bottom filled with hooks, furs, feathers, strands of fabric, and wraps of wire. “Why don’t you pick out a few colors?”

Portia stuck her tongue in her cheek and poured over her options. Elona really did have every color of the rainbow in this box. What are Papa’s favorites? She fingered two teal feathers. This is the color of Papa and my hair. Taking the feathers, she set them in her lap and looked again. A long length of honey-colored leather reminded her of her mother’s eyes. She set it on top of the feathers. One more. The furs felt silky against her fingertips, and a brilliant orange cluster caught her eye. Like the sun at dawn when they took the boat out together. She snagged it and held her choices in her palms. “Okay! These ones!”

“These are wonderful colors, Portia.” Elona nodded and took the wire and one long hook from the box. “Now for the fun part.”

Despite the hours upon hours of knot practice and sailing the sloop, Portia’s fingers felt clumsy and slow. The work was slow and methodical, and there were many times when they had to unwrap the wires and feathers because they were too far apart or had begun to overlap. But Elona was so patient and nice, helping her understand exactly how the thin wire should wrap around the hook and when to add a new feather or some of the fur.

“Did your Papa teach you how to do this, Miss Elona?” Portia asked while they worked.

“No. I never met my father. My nyannies taught me how to fish, and my mother taught me how to make lures.”

Portia winced. Elona didn’t sound sad, but the thought of not knowing her Papa certainly felt sad. “M-Mama said that most kittens don’t know their Papas. She didn’t either.”

“That’s true. Emilio is a special case, it seems. Oh, wait, we need to wrap this part a little closer.” Elona gently took the lure from Portia’s hands and unwound the last bind. “There we are.” She handed it back and watched Portia set back to work.

“Do you have any kittens, Miss Elona?”

Elona chuckled. “No. Not yet, at least. But, if the time comes, I hope they’re as clever and as sweet as you.”

Portia blushed and ducked her chin to her chest, her hair falling into her eyes. “Thank you.” Another few rounds, another feather. “Oh! You sing really pretty.”

“That’s nice of you to say. And a little embarrassing,” Elona replied. “I thought I’d be the only one out here this early.”

Portia shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want Papa to be sad on his big day.”

“I promise he won’t be sad.” Elona touched the tip of Portia’s nose. “Not with a daughter like you.”

They continued to work until the sun rose to the middle of the sky. Portia’s stomach growled, and she did her best to ignore it. When she reached the end of the wire, she handed the lure back to Elona for a final inspection.

“Well, my dear, I think we’re finished,” Elona announced. “This is perfect.”

“Really?” Portia beamed.

“Really! You’re a fine craftsman, Portia. Now, run this home. I’m sure they’re worried about you.” Elona returned the lure and stroked Portia between the ears.

“Thank you so much, Miss Elona! You’re the best!” Portia scrambled to her feet and broke into a sprint. Puffs of sand kicked up behind her feet, and the salty breeze caressed her hair and cheeks. She was breathless by the time she reached her front door and burst inside.

Papa sat at the kitchen table with a mug in hand while Mama stirred a pot over the fire.

“Portia! Where have you been all day?” Mama glanced over her shoulder, then moved to add a stack of sliced onyans to the pot.

“Well, I…” Portia swallowed hard, then marched to her father’s side.

“What’ve you got there, love?” Papa rested his mug on the table and turned his full attention to her.

“Happy Birthday, Papa!” Portia thrust the lure forward with a giant grin. “It’s your day! And I made you a present!”

Papa’s eyes went wide, and he accepted the lure. “You made this for me?”

“Yeah! Miss Elona taught me how and helped me, and I even paid for the materials myself! With my Bells from the tooth [Wizard]!” Portia clapped her hands together.

“The tooth fairy.” Papa laughed. “This is wonderful, Portia. I love it.” He set the lure on the table and swept her up beneath her armpits, placing her in his lap. “You worked for a long time on this, didn’t you?”

“You can tell?” Portia asked, surprised. Her sore fingers and rigid knuckles were enough to remind her, but she’d been worried that it wouldn’t compare to Miss Elona’s wonderful lures.

“I can. This here’s a prized piece, sweet.” He picked up the lure and turned it over and over. “Good colors, too. They remind me of you and your ma.”

Portia relaxed into his embrace, glowing with pride. “I’m so glad you like it.”

“I love it.” Papa hugged her close and kissed her on the top of the head. “And I love you!”

“I love you, too!” Portia squealed as he tickled her sides. “I want to make all of Papa’s days special!”

Papa laughed. “You already do, Portia. Every one.”