Chapter 4:  What better name? The Wrath of Kolakon

Poor Butler had his work cut out for him.  It took him forever to get her to flip over on her stomach so he could see the wound, and even longer to get her to lie still while he cleaned it.  Not easy, especially with wings.  The membrane was tender, and the wing bones fine, but sturdy nonetheless.  In her opinion, though, wings and rubbing alcohol should never mix.  He heard almost the whole time, a loww guttural sounding growl deep in her throat, and once he saw a flash of white that might’ve been fangs, but she lay still. 

He finally had the wing cleaned.  Then she surprised him further.  “What is your name warmblood?  I heard the other one calling you Butler.  That can’t be your real name.”

“It is.”  He was forbidden, of course, to tell her his real name.  She screwed up her face in confusion, and possibly pain. 

“Well, O.K. , Butler.  Thank you for cleaning my wings.”  She didn’t smile, but instead held him there fixed with her cold stare until he said you’re welcome, and left.

She almost smiled.  It was too easy.  She was a seeker after all.  She had done this so many time in pranks, but now with her wings hurting, it might be a little harder.  She took a deep breth through her nose.  It echoed hollowly in the dark room.  She crossed her legs, and turned her thoughts inward, farther still, until they were a small ball in her mind’s eye.  She had almost stopped breathing now.  For a good reason too.  Her soul had officially left her body. 

It was always practical to shrink and condense your thoughts, make them easier to hold on to while your soul is by itself with nothing to hold them.  So of course they were clutched in her hand.  She stopped in Artemis’ room.  I thad taken her long enough to get here.  She then expanded the ball a little, until it was about the size of her hand, and began to sort through the memories that had been handed to her long ago. 

Dragons communicate by telpathy; not words, or pictures, or even by mouth.  This was how the stories were passed, and this was how they really happened.  No tall tales or legends.  This may seem boring, but dragons were practical, and had discovered the abilities ages ago.  She withdrew several that looked about right, and stuck them through the warmbloods ear, still holding on to them, like you would insert a credit card into a machine. 

Artemis slept very badly, even though he slept.  He seemed to have odd waking dreams.  There were several different ones.  A scarred icy waste, bodys being thrown into a stormy, ice filled sea.  They didn’t appear human but he couldn’t really tell.  He saw sickness and poverty, war and peace, but it wasn’t the peace we know.  It had a stretched quality, as if war could break out again at any moment.  And then, suddenly, he was awake.  Even though the sun was rising, he felt like he hadn’t slept in ages, and his nightshirt was soaked with sweat. 

Ok, I updated again! YAY! R,R,&R please!   

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