Several months ago I used to think the scariest thing in the Bloodmoon was the Alpha in an angry mode.
Boy, was i was wrong.
The most terrifying thing was Diego when he decided I was being "too active."
It was a clear morning, and I was currently sitting in the primary study, reaching my right hand out to pick up a feather-light quill from the desk.
Before my fingers could even graze it, a blur of muscle materialized in front of me with the speed of a striking viper.
"Don't!" Diego barked.
I froze, blinking in shock. Diego gently scooped up the quill, blew an invisible speck of dust off the feather, and handed it to me with the care of a man passing a loaded crossbow to a toddler.
"Diego," I sighed, taking the feather between two fingers. "It’s a quill. It weighs less than a single
