Vaughn
A werewolf shuffles in and carefully drops two plates containing bean cake and potato stew on a tiny stool beside JoJo's bed.
The dish's smell wafts up into my nostrils, making me instantly hungry. "Dinner is served," announces the werewolf in a particularly strange accent.
"Thank you," I whisper and smile respectfully at her.
Night has now fallen upon us.
Our voices cause JoJo to stir awake. She crumples the bedsheets and stretches, finally sitting up gently and placing a soft pillow on her lap, propping her elbows on it. "I'll come get the plate when you're done," the werewolf says and turns around, leaving us.
Without even trying, JoJo has begun getting the queen treatment and I can't help but show amusement at this fact. I smile awkwardly at her.
"What?" she asks.
'Nothi
