Pestmer watered a plant in the corner of the room.

Ember smiled to herself. This dragon had some potential, and a serious mouth. She shrugged it off. "While you're over there being a mammal, see if you can find anyone selling rhodium."

Ember kept walking, allowing her mind to drift to a place all too familiar. The first time she met Swan.





"Hello? Hello? What are you doing?" A soft voice called out to me in the dark.

"None of your business, " I answered in a low, gruff tone as I rummaged through the various piles of trinkets and oddities.

"Can you help me out of here?"

I turned to face the other dragon, nearly smashing the statue in my talons in frustration. Craning my neck carefully to get a better look at her, I stuffed a few coins into my pouch and hoped the dim lighting wouldn't give away my features.

She was chained by her neck and forearms to the wall. This had been used for several prisoners at some point, as could be told from the other chains stretching down the wall. The chains, however, were not entirely empty - they still held the mutilated, severed heads of the prisoners, their gaping eye sockets stuffed with glittering gems. The dragon herself, well she was quite magnificent. The color of dry desert earth, with slightly darker zigzags that circled down her arms like a giraffe. She was tall and wiry, so thin it looked as if she could blow away in a gentle breeze. Her face was long and dished beautifully, looking hopefully in my general direction.

I tied my pouch firmly shut, turning away from her. "No."

Her hopeful tone turned to desperation. "Will you be back?" Suddenly it dropped to a frightened whisper. "You're working for them, aren't you."

I barked a laugh. "Oh, I'll be back. But not for you. I don't work for anyone. I'm a thief."

"When?" She asked quietly.

"Soon. But don't tell anyone I've been here."

"I won't."

"Good."

"If you help me escape."

I turned, a bitter expression crawling through my face. I should have known better than to converse with a dragon who would give away my identity. "Fine. But after that you've never met me."

"Deal."

I made my way over to the entrance of the cave, sweeping my tail across the stone floor. The torchlight flickered and glinted on the gemstones in the eyes of the dead dragons. I could take the jewels when I returned. As I opened my wings to fly off into the night, a small voice floated across the cave.

"What's your name?"

I wasn't dumb enough to give my real name. I knew better. But my wings quivered as I answered, turning to leave.

"Call me Blood."

Elenor opened her mouth to say she had no idea what rhodium was, but shut it again. No need to prove how little she knew besides protecting and killing. Plus... Elenor squinted at Kona. Her eyes were distant, her movements thoughtless. She was... deep in her thoughts. That just reinforced the need for Elenor to watch her back in case someone caught her unawares.

She wondered what Kona was thinking about. Elenor certainly had nothing to think deeply about.

Focus, she scolded herself, again. She concentrated back on keeping her senses sharp, feeling the all-too-familiar feel of a headache coming on because of it. The pain only made her mind clearer, in a weird way.

"Rhodium! Osmium! Gold and Silver! Precious metals!"

The call snapped Ember from her thoughts. She stopped, looking at the dragon behind her. "Not a usual supplier, but we'll see how they come around," she huffed. She approached the cloth shelter, where a sickly green dragon stood. "What's your price on rhodium?"

The green dragon opened his mouth, but Ember waved her talons to silence him. "Whatever. It's too much, and I don't have any money with me."

A sour expression carved into the vendor's face. "Then you can't buy any."

Ember turned to the small dark dragon. "Can you believe this dragon?" She laughed. "Does he know who we are? Does he know who I am?"

He sets the plate in the sink, washing it thoroughly.

Zilla sighed. She slunk through the crowd. She took a sudden sharp turn towards the graveyard. She hunted the area for the grave of her beloved. When she found it, she sat with her head bowed. She mumbled something to herself.

Pestmer furrowed her brow, rubbing her temple. "Ugh, my head." , She whispered.

He looks at her, worried. "You alright?"

``Names Vark, you?`` He asked him, lending him a claw to shake. ``I am known to charm people to get what I want, see, I'm not exactly.... A resident here? I'm homeless to be honest..`` He nervously chuckled.

"It's just a headache." , She answered.