hank howell wolf

“You may be a knight, but that’s not going to stop me from collecting that bounty. The Wandering Spirit is mine, and if you know what’s good for—”

As quietly as she could she made her way up to the bedside and slowly sat on the bed as it took her weight. Once she was sure her dad was still deep in his sleep, she wriggled under the sheet until she was next him. As usual he was arranged like a star fish with his arms and legs out to either side. To accommodate him she curled into a ball and put herself right by his side with his arm under her head like a pillow. Like most dads she’d heard about hers slept naked, but although all the other girls who mentioned this seemed grossed out, she didn’t mind. To be fair a lot of the of the other girl’s dads weren’t as handsome as hers, or in as good shape. A few years ago, she had to put up with a few friends who couldn’t stop gushing about her dad when they came over and saw him for the first time. Although she saw all the good features about him, to her he was always just her dad. How could she think about him that way?

Once again, Seraph thought back to Foley, and how they faced off in their duel at the academy. The stubborn dwarf had withstood a similar attack from Seraph, deflecting Seraph’s light blast even while spitting up blood. Seraph kept that image in his mind and slowly began to approach Phune. Now, it was a war of attrition to see who would lose their strength first. Would Seraph falter and be annihilated, or would Phune’s burning river turn into a dripping faucet? With every step Seraph took, that question echoed through the minds of everyone observing. The audience sat with bated breath, waiting to see if their prince would succeed.