Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20170721035105/@comment-7262318-20170724015905

"Fuzzy?" Jerus rubbed his chin. The only thing that he knew to be fuzzy were small dogs and pocket lint. And unless her ability was to transform into lint, which would be quite lame, that meant she grew fur.

"You're a werewolf?" He guessed

--

"Thank you," Owl said. "And, I need you to make sure that this doesn't get in anyone else's hands. Gait, Julie, the Guildmaster. I don't need them catching wind and passing judgement on it, understand?"