She traveled in silence for about thirty minutes with the baby cradled in her arms. As she walked, she felt a pain below her belly button where the scale had been torn loose by the mysterious wind. She glanced at her skin and saw a minor scar—apparently what happened to her in dragon form happened to her in human form, though on a much smaller scale.

At length, she heard the sound of wooden wheels moving through the dark. On the gloomy path in front of them, a green-skinned goblin appeared, hauling onions in a cart behind him. He spotted her and waved invitingly. “Hello my dear. Would you like to buy an onion for your kraat babe? Only one iron drachma.”

The kraatling did seem very hungry, but she had no coin—or did she? She reached into her pockets and pulled forth a single iron drachma. It was reddened with age, round, with a small bit missing from the middle as was Druish design. She held it aloft for a moment, almost giving it to the goblin, but then she remembered the ancient sloth’s words; she must say ‘no’. She looked into the kraatling’s eyes and sighed, “I’m sorry, baby.” She glanced up at the goblin, “Thank you, but no. We must be going.”

The baby began to cry as she continued her way through the woods, which seemed to get colder all the time, much to the chagrin of her bare feet. “This is truly awful, isn’t it?” She said softly to the crying kraat; “...but why would Odd give us an iron drachma if it wasn’t to be used to feed you?”

Eventually, the kraatling calmed, but the poor thing was so cold that he shivered in her arms. As they rounded a small hill of brush, the wind picked up and Belmardina saw something colorful alight on a mossy branch nearby. She came closer to it and saw that it was a thick, wooly scarf. Without hesitation, she wrapped the babe up and he instantly stopped shivering.

“Excuse me! That’s my scarf!” a voice called. She heard the pitter-pat of little feet; a tiny female gremlin was running down a hill toward them. Her skin and hair were a deep green, and in contrast to the colorful scarf, she was dressed in a plain brown dress. “Please give it back. It belonged to my mother.” she begged.

Belmardina instinctively reached to unwrap the scarf from the kraatling, but felt Odd’s words gnaw at the back of her mind. She gulped heavily. “No—I’m sorry, I can’t. I need it to keep this baby warm.”

The gremlin began to scream, stamp and curse. When her foul language was used up, she begged for her precious belonging back, tears stinging her little eyes. Finally, Belmardina could take no more and she sprinted away into the darkness.

“That was one of the worst things I’ve ever done,” Belmardina said to the babe, wiping away a tear of her own. “I’ll never forgive myself.” The kraatling’s eyes fluttered open as if in response, but only for a moment as he had become very comfortable in his wool wrapping. He cooed contentedly and drifted off again. “Well at least you’re happy.” She muttered dryly.

A few more uneventful hours passed. Belmardina felt her mind wandering. She thought of her husband; Blutgang wouldn’t be scared to be here in the woods alone. I can turn into a dragon and I’m still afraid. How I miss him! I miss his armor and those soft feathers and his simple way of saying things…

Then she heard another voice in the dark.

“Oh. This must be it.” She whispered to the babe; “We just have to say ‘no’ one more time and we’re out of here.”

“Is someone out there? Come this way, I need assistance.” The voice called. She passed cautiously. Through a gathering of blooming shadow flowers, she saw an old male kraat with gray feathers and a yellow-orange beak at the base of a hollow tree. She did not see any immediate wounds.

“Hello, what’s the matter?” She asked, holding the babe close in case there was trouble.

“It’s a good thing you happened by. I was making my way through the woods when suddenly my brace gave out.” He gestured to his right knee where a metal cage of sorts had been built about the joint. “A gear came loose—without it, I can’t walk. I’ve been here for two days. If I have to stay longer, I’ll perish. Will you help me?”

Belmardina felt her heart thud in her chest. She knew she had to say ‘no’ and leave him, but if she did, she would regret it for the rest of her life. The kraatling sighed happily in her arms, as if reminding her that his fragile life was in her hands. “I’m… oh,” she glanced at the babe and then to the old kraat, “I’m… so sorry!” she whirled about and ran once more into the dark.

She heard the kraat call after her in anguish. As his voice died away, her pace slowed to a walk. Blutgang would never leave a man behind like this. Some queen I am. I’m just the same scared girl who left home a year ago.

She stopped and looked over her shoulder, her hair standing on end as a thousand invisible eyes watched her, and the earless trees listened. “But then again,” she said to the babe, who kicked joyfully at the sound of her voice, “I wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t left home in the first place.” She desperately wanted to return to her husband, to kiss him a dozen times and tell him of her journey through the Deep Woods, but she also knew it was completely unacceptable to leave the old kraat to perish. “Regardless of what Odd foretold, we have to go back for him. Even if it means we risk our lives—it’s what’s right.”