King of the Night
At the very edge of Dimwood Forest stood an old charred oak
where, silhouetted by the moon, a great horned owl sat waiting. The
owls name was Mr. Ocax, and he looked like death himself. With his
piercing gaze, he surveyed the lands he called his own, watching
for the creatures he considered his subjects. Not one of them ever
dared to cross his path. . .until the terrible night when two
little mice went dancing in the moonlight. . .