It felt like as soon as my head hit the pillow in the Waking, I wake up face down in the lair in the Dreaming. Lying on the pallet that serves as my bed. I smell blood. Lifting my head I note my back is burdened by wings. The wings are mine, but the shape isn’t.
I shift a wing to see better and a sharp pain seizes my breath. I have a large gash in my left side. Deep enough to expose bone, it wasn’t far from opening up my gut. It was healing, but still wept blood.
I don’t remember last night. I don’t remember any of it.
My hands were taloned and carried the scent of blood as well. On the palm of my right hand, was my blood. On the talons and the back of that same hand was something else’s gore.
My hands and forearms were covered with something else’s blood.
I don’t know who started it. But I certainly finished it.
“You’re supposed to be resting.” Snake watched from a corner. 40 feet of coils shifted slightly. He was on alert but was trying to portray calm. Was he on alert from me? I couldn’t see all of him. Was he hiding wounds?
I started to ask him about the injury. “No words. Only rest.” I knew better than to push my luck. I’ll get answers, just not now.
I nodded and laid back down. Deeper sleep came quickly.