Notes from a Hairy-Not-Scary Werewolf
MONDAY, APRIL 9
It’s five in the morning and I’ve just woken up to find my bedroom trashed. My bookcase is overturned, my games are scattered all over the floor, and my study notes are in shreds.
It must have been a burglar. What if they’re still in the house?
I should go and fight them. I should dish out some vigilante justice.
On second thought, I...