Half moon plus one, I think. I have lost track of time.
My paws. Oh, my paws. They are as bruised as my soul. I was not made for hard labour. I was not made to be mocked by men who have […]
My paws. Oh, my paws. They are as bruised as my soul. I was not made for hard labour. I was not made to be mocked by men who have […]
The dying words of the vampire mouse are running through my head, and I cannot silence them. Forget Paris, Harry-le-beau. Remember Lund— I am trying to think of words that […]