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Summary
"It's not just any full moon. It's a blood moon," Lycaon clarified, hoping that reasoning would be enough even if he highly doubted it.
"Okay, and?" Hugo rose a skeptical brow.
"Don't you remember how aggressive they made my ruts? It's been quite some time since we were together during any of them at all, let alone a blood moon—"
"You were never as bad as you think you were. I can handle you, Lycaon."
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Hugo tests the limits of how well he can actually handle his wolf under the influence of a blood moon.
