Diocletian is the sort of Cane Corso who is thoughtful, slow to speak, and absolutely the last word in any room. On most mornings Diocletian can be found near the flooded market halls, doing very little and calling it research. There is a long running rumor that Diocletian once swapped a glassbird feather that hums in still air for a better story and called the trade fair. Diocletian suspects the universe rewards pups who share their snacks and ask the awkward questions.