Axel slept, and dreamed.
A memory.
Three men approached him as he chopped wood. Fall was in full force, and winter would come soon enough. Axel watched them. All armed. One on the left with a shotgun, the other two with pistols. Suits. Pinstripes.
"You're a hard man to find, 'Fenrir'," the one in the middle said. "Living all the way out here."
Axel said nothing. He merely turned to face the trio, axe held loosely in one hand.
The three levelled their weapons. "Ah, ah ah," Middle Idiot cautioned. "Be a shame to start something, right?"
"You're here to kill me," Axel said calmly.
"You've crossed a line, wild man. Your little smuggling operation pissed off Sven something fierce. Now, let's-"
Axel moved.
Screaming started, and ended just as quickly.