"So… the road trip was that bad, huh?" Nick inquired.
What Nick had been talking about was the location Wolford had taken a road trip not too long ago. The place that the timber wolf had visited with two of his friends, from photos he had been shown of it, looked like the perfect place to take a trip to in his opinion.
Where Wolford had stayed was only steps away from the white sandy beach, with nice restaurants and small shops surrounding the area. But after the wolf returned from his little trip, Nick noticed that he wasn't as happy-looking as he would expect someone to seem after coming back from the beach, which was supposed to be a joyous place to visit. The fox knew that something must've occurred within those days that made things dissatisfying.
Wolford, who had standing not too far away from the fox, let out a sigh and took a sip from his coffee before continuing the conversation. "It was a trip spawn from hell, Wilde," he answered. "And I ain't even trying to overstate it."
"What happened?" the vulpine asked.
"I guess I should start at the beginning," the timber wolf replied. "It all started when we arrived at the hotel."
"But that place you said you were staying at looked like really nice."
"Well, appearances can be deceiving, I guess. Anyway, we get there after a lot of driving, and we're ready to check in before heading down to the beach. But then we get to reception"—Wolford let out a chuckle and shook his head—"and the clerk tells us they're sorry for the inconvenience 'cause the elevators are out of order at the moment, and that we're gonna have to use the stairs. What didn't make things any better was the fact that where we were stayin' was near the top floor, and we we're gonna have to walk up about sixty flights of stairs."
Nick shook his head. "Geez," he replied. "That doesn't sound too good."
"You got that right, Wilde. That alone got the whole trip off on the wrong paw. So we're all makin' our way up the stairs. After hearing the complaint of how we should've just rented out a beach cottage instead, I decided we were just gonna pass time as he walked up a little more positively."
"How did you do that?"
"I already told ya how my friend John's a chatterbox, and how he'd talk your ear off if you let him. So I told him that he should tell us some of his stories while we walk up. So he did exactly that for a little bit…" The timber wolf placed a paw over his eyes as he recollected what had happened. "But it was just before we were getting to the floor we were staying on that he informs us that he was going to tell us his saddest story yet."
There was a moment of silence, which Nick broke after a few seconds. "Well, don't leave me hangin'," he said. "What was that sad story he told you when you got there?"
Wolford let out a sigh. "He had left our room key at reception."