On a chilly night, the lightening illuminated the sky as thunders roared aggressively. Tree leaves rustled loudly as they crash into each other, sending chilling breezes into the atmosphere. Although those chills went unnoticed to the Oscamas, cold had never been something the werewolves could feel.

In the heavy rain, a white werewolf ran down from a hill top and descended into the forest, its pace as quick as a cheetah's. Its icy blue eyes darting from one place to the other to make sure it wasn't being followed or attacked. The coast was clear and the wolf ran even faster than before. Soon, it reached the oscama city and its heartbeat quickened.

"There we go again." It said to itself and began running towards the huge metal gate that was protecting the city from enemies and trespassers. A guards looked down at the white wolf from the castle roof and gave an order loudly enough to be heard by the guards standing by the gates.

"Open the gates, the prince is back!"

In a blink of an eyes, the guards had already peeled the gates open to welcome the wolf prince. As usual, the prince ran past them and proceeded to the castle. The city was in a dead silence as everyone had gone to sleep, it was three in the morning but the Prince couldn't care less. Something his father had always fought with him about but he never listened. He was as stubborn as the king himself.

In the kings chamber, queen Miranda held her husbands hand firmly to sooth his anger, Only she could save the prince from his fathers wrath.

King myrus leaned his back against his chair, his elbow placed on the arms of the chair and his chin rested on the same hand. He sighed depressingly as his blue orbs glared at the door, he knew that his son would get in through it any minute from then. His body shivered in anger and he almost bit his own lips.

"Calm down myrus. This fury is not good for you." Miranda said to her husband. His tired eyes darted to his wife's silver ones and softened. She was right, that fury may be the death of him at his age but it wasn't his fault that it happened often, if only his son could listen to him for once.

His pale lips stretched in a tight smile and he held Miranda's hand warmly. "I know my love. But what other choice do I have." Myrus said and sighed again.

Miranda worried for both of them and their stubbornness, somehow myrus couldn't see that their son Oscar had taken after him. The both hated to be ordered around and at the same time, they hated to be disobeyed.

"I will talk to him myrus, I don't want to see the two of you fight. It breaks my heart." Miranda's eyes were now emotional, myrus could see how tears gathered around her big silver eyes, he hated to see her like that.

Myrus leaned to his left, closer to his wife and lifted her chin with his right hand, their eyes met and thousands of emotions ran across them.

"I will not fight with him this time, I promise you that. He's my son after all, we will have a father and son conversation this time instead of the king and prince talk we have all the time." Myrus assured his wife.

"That will be wonderful." Miranda exclaimed.

A light footsteps caught their attentions and both of them turned to see Oscar standing tall by the door. He was now in his human form, his silver garments were soaking wet and droplets of water left his black hair and landed on his shoulder. His blue bold eyes locked with his father's. But this time, Oscar couldn't see the fury in them, all he saw was sadness and his eyebrows knotted together as he wondered what the reason was for his father's change of behavior.

He began to walk closer to his parents who had their hands entwined. He held his mothers gaze until he reached his destination, something in her eyes gave him peace of mind.

"Calm down son." Miranda said through her mind link powers.

Oscar nodded twice in assurance and his mother smiled. Apparently, he wasn't planning to fight with his father that night either, he had broken his mother's heart quite enough.

"Welcome back son." Myrus greeted warmly. Oscar peeled his eyes off his mother's and looked at his father.

"Thank you father." Oscar replied and kissed his fathers right hand, he went closer to his mother and did the same.

Miranda squeezed myrus's hand gently then released it and went out of the chamber to give them privacy.

Myrus stretch his hand to the nearby table to pick his walking stick which only turned out into a failed struggle. He wondered why he had even kept it so far.

Seeing his father's struggle, Oscars heart sank at how weak his father had become.

"I'll get it for you." Oscar said calmly. He went forward and grabbed the stick. He leaned in front of his father to give him the stick and myrus patted his shoulder.

Standing up from his chair, myrus lead his son the large window at the right side of the room where both of them watched the fine bright city beyond as water from heavens washed away the dusts and dirt, the smell of rain filled their no