At the very edge of dimwood forest stood an old charred oak where, silhouetted by the moon, a great horned Owl sat waiting. The Owl's name was mr. Ocax, and he looked like death himself. With his piercing gaze, he survey...At the very edge of dimwood forest stood an old charred oak where, silhouetted by the moon, a great horned Owl sat waiting. The Owl's 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.