Redhawk Caldera There are no pan-asian supermarkets down in hell

Couldn't help but get into all this spooky action with Whip! Hoping for a @Gannet, but all are welcome otherwise. Forward dated to Halloween night.

Night fell fast over the caldera -- faster than it had ever before in Whip's experiance. Each day was getting noticibly shorter than the last. Though Whip did not understand the process, he felt no reason to fear the lengthening darkness.The days followed a strict pattern; easily predictable if one put a small bit of thought into it. Whip did fear the things he knew. However, it was the things that made him uncertain that struck terror in his heart. 

For some strange reason, reasons unknown to even himself, Whip felt a slinking feeling of unease. The cold wind had shifted from the north, bending the threadbare branches of the thinning trees around the rendezvous site. Their twigs curled outward like broken, grotesque fingers. It's only the wind. Whip repeated his mantra over and over again in his head, hoping that some sort of understanding would calm his nerves. 

His mantra did not have the desired effect.

The more he tried, it seemed the more he set himself on edge. After a while, Whip was unable to take it any longer, so he sought the scent of his brother and began to follow his trail -- but carried on the breeze was another scent. One disturbingly familiar that shook Whip to his core. So much so that he broke out into a frantic and fearful run.