The rest of the day goes by so fast. I am squeezing the meat, collecting the blood to a big basin, pouring the blood into several smaller containers, and then lastly, storing those into my refrigerator. Rows of tubes are filling my former half-empty refrigerator. Now, it is full. At least, I don’t need to worry for probably a week or more.
What happened at the Ringdom Forest is worrying me. What if I cannot control myself? To the forest keeper and the white-tail deer, I reacted the same—hunger for blood. Also, how can I hide this abnormality? I may pack the blood in a dark bottle and pretend it is beet juice. The problem is, what if anyone asks for it? What if they grab my bottle and drink it immediately?
I shake my head. My overthinking is getting worse. If I want to make an optimisti
