After a long while, a faint green light flashed in the darkness.
He had been running around all day, escaping the servants' pursuit, hunting rabbits, being threatened by that wicked vampire... Dario's body was so heavy he could barely lift it, but he just couldn't fall asleep.
Even though I used to get hit every day, as soon as it was time to sleep, my body would urge me to rest and repair myself as quickly as possible.
If you simply close your eyes, it will be dawn when you open them again, and all your injuries will have disappeared.
Even the most painful feelings can be forgotten.
But today, he had no wounds at all. The places that the beautiful vampire had touched felt strange. Like a feather brushing against him, leaving a lingering, tingling sensation.
Dario couldn't resist sticking out his tongue and licking his own fur.
I have a name now.
The phrase flashed through his mind again, and Dario rested his head on his front paws, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffed the scent of the cloak.
Back in that house, there were many werewolves around his age who would call each other by different names, but when they called him, they always used the same words over and over again.
Bastard, trash, waste...
It took him a long time to realize that it wasn't his name.
Is it because of this difference that they always hit me?
Dario always thought that way.
He wanted to give himself a name.
But he had never been to school and wasn't qualified to go to school; even if he ran to the window, he would be chased away. So when he looked up at the moon, his mind was blank, and he couldn't think of anything.
But now, he has his own name.
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