Howl

Chapter Twenty Seven

Howl's POV

    I watch the winged beast rake it's enormous claws along  Artemis's entire backside, but at the same time, Markl is attacked. So much is going on, I freeze up, hardly able to comprehend it all going on so quickly. Solomon keeps up on her end of the fighting, disregarding her fallen comarades. 

    No, not comrades. Markl isn't even a teenager! Artemis is hardly into her twenties, like myself. We need an intervention.

    But instead the chaos ensues, and Artemis bleeds out before my eyes. It isn't until the winged beast flies at my own head that I snap out of it. The creature is wrinkled and ancient. Almost bat like in it's flight. But it is fanged, and bears it's sharp teeth at anything and everything near it. I duck from it's attack, and it's hooked wings, with spikes sharp as razors sticking out in several areas, takes out a few of our enemies. The wing's enormity itself makes the danger impossible to control.

    This creature sounds like one from an old story that Mellach would tell me in passing. The story of The Ferocity. The only difference is that The Ferocity is a fire breather, and is probably some sort of ancient dragon spirit. It is supposed to be clever and terrifying all at once. This thing only seems to be the latter.

    "Howl, help, please!" Markl screeches, as he drags himself to Artemis's side. Red has begun to blossom at his side, and I only notice because he removes his hand fromt eh open wound to clasp within Artemis's long, pale fingers.

    "I'm coming, Markl!" I shout to the young boy. I turn and throw a look over my shoulder to Solomon. The old woman glances at me and throws a quick wink in her breif break from battle. The instant she turns her back to me, she commences her fight with one of the pursueing, black clad men.

    Just as I am beginning to kneel by Artemis and Markl, the creature flaps it's heavy, leathery wings overhead. It gives another banshee like howl, throws it's ugly head back and belches fire into the air above us all.

    An airship catches fire and whizzes from the sky, and i turn my back on the fight.

    Looking at Markl's side, it looks like a shallow wound inflicted by a melee weapon . . . Perhaps a wickedly curved dagger with a serrated blade? It looks like it was just barely more than a diagonal nick, so as long as it doesn't get infected, Markl will live.

    I tear off my left sleeve and wrap it as tightly around my young friend's waist as possible, as a make shift bandage. When I roll Artemis over, so that she lies face down, I see her health is going to be a much more difficult challenge.

    What's left of the flesh on her back is more mangled and shreded than the remains of the shirt around it. most of the back of the black cloth has been singed off.

    I guess perhaps we really are dealing with The Ferocity.

    In any case, all I can do is get my friends out of here.

    "Solomon!" Alas, i wish I had the heart to leave the sorry, pathetic excuse for an old woman behind. She approaches me, grabs one of my hands, and Markl's free hand. I grab Artemis's free hand in my own.