Wyheree next found hefself at the Red Dragon Inn, a near-empty bottle of Elven wine in front of her, tears drying in silvery lines down her cheeks. How could she have been so foolish, so utterly stupid? Taking a deep drink directly from the bottle, she stared into the Inn's fire, fresh tears falling as she turned the night's events over and over in her head. She had been played false....everything Bolt had said to her were lies, all lies....The realizations made her feel used, dirty, and cheapened...."a dragon skin might be a fine trophy indeed..." Wyheree thought grimly, finishing her wine, wondering how many more bottles it would take to make the agony go away....and then a new pain struck her, stabbing shooting pains thoughout her abdomen, stealing away her breath. Bending near double, she felt horribly sick, and the pain worsened, causing her to lurch to her feet and stumble out into the night, into oblivion, as the bottle crashed to the ground and Wyheree disappeared into the blackness...
