The lighting strikes outside, causing Razor to get startled out of his sleep. Another lighting strike caused the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

He hated storms. Ever since he was a pup, he hated storms.

The rain was pouring, and the trees swayed violently.

Cautiously, Razor slipped out of the bed, jumping at the sound of thunder once more, as he made is way to their bedroom.

He pushed the door open a smidge and peered into their room. "...Lupical...?" He whispered.