Upper Hand

Deep inside a thick and pathless woodland, howling winds and pouring rain cleansed the earth from its accumulated grime and filth. However, none of it could be heard inside the cabin right in the heart of nothing but towering oak trees. 

The only evidence of the thunderstorm outside was the intermittent flash of lightning, revealing the raindrops that streak the glass of the tall windows and french doors.

A woodsy, balsamic aroma filled the cabin as cedarwood burned into ashes in the fireplace. 

There was little to no movement and everything was quiet, let alone for the flames dancing along with the crackling of the logs which echoed inside the open space.

Meanwhile, huddled on the sofa were Maxen and Olivia.

On the right end of the sofa was Maxen, sitting with his stretched legs propped on the sofa whilst his eyes focused on his phone.