The fire crackled and sent sparks wisping into the chilly night air, filling the cave with an ambience that calmed the exhausted crew. The three tiresome Nighthowlers lay together, racked-up to a makeshift post made from spruce found within their master's sleeping ground; the cave that helped them all escape.  

“Where were your eyes, Callus?” Severin exclaimed.  

Severin stood speechless. Why can he never stand tall like a man and answer me like he wears a set of balls? 

“It was not my fault, father!” beckoned Callus. “They walked right out in front of us all.”  

Callus walked away from the warmth of the fire. He was ready to either cry or fight, depending on what happened next. Severin thought to himself, knowing he took his anger too far and far too often.  

This night was especially cold, a wash of frigid air claimed the breath and pained the lungs from within as Callus stormed off into the black abyss; the Whining Forest. 

“A lot went into this journey, and I am not going to have it ruined by the inadequate or the incapable.” gloated Severin.  

Severin picked up his axes and placed them in the back facing holsters. Now I am Ready for any mother fucker that thinks he has a chance. 

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As Severin walked to apologize to Callus, he tripped over what looked like Callus's Longsword. “That is my father’s longsword, handed down to Callus when he turned 16 winters.” Severin yelled back to Baenum. Baenum jumped up, drew his double-headed ax. It weighed more than Callus and was twice as long. 

“Quickly!” yelled Severin. 

“At your flank!” said Baenum. 

“Let’s go!” they both said in unison.  

They ran outside, leaving the fire burning bright and the Nighthowlers racked up together as all four watched their masters with a gaze of confusion and anxiety. The Nighthowlers stood, unable to gain ground, at first. 

“Bring the ‘howlers!” yelled Severin. “We may need to tear some heads off necks!” 

Severin and Baenum met the Whining Forest with goosebumps and a cold that trickled down their spines. Each man entered the Whining Forest ready to claim the life of anyone thinking the upper hand belonged to them.  

“Where is Callus?” said Severin, questioning Baenum.  

“I don’t kno...something is just ahead, right there.” Baenum said, questioning his own eyes.  

“’Why must I open my jaws?” cried Severin.  

“Everything I say to my son rarely is of anger and disappointment. I do not truly know what has gotten into my simple head.” said Severin.  

Just as the pair went to investigate the noise Beanum heard, a crash and the sound of splintering wood filled the quiet night air with chaos and what sounded like a young man's scream for mercy. 

“Father, over here!” cried Callus. But no sound came after this cry for help! 

“Son, speak to me! I am here. I need you to tell me where you are!” pleaded Severin. No response was heard. No desperate cry or mumbling to be sought after or help for the pair in search of Callus. The silence was deafening, and a fire erupted inside of Severin. His mind and soul focused on one thing. 

The last words he would ever say to his son, Callus.