Tryth sat down at the table; the demi-dragon female clung to his hand; he could read that she was worried for him. His thumb rolled over hers several times in an attempt to comfort her. He smiled at her. "I'm fine, love," he said, trying to reassure her.

She didn't seem to believe in his words as she was clenching his hand much tighter than before.

"You ready for the main course!?" shouted a rowdy dem-dragon. His hair was black; his horns were a brilliant gold. Several rings and chains of various precious metals hung from all over the male. His peachy skin looked almost flush, a sure sign he was undoubtedly drunk. "I sure am!"

"Are you sure you don't want to see someone?" whispered the female demi-dragon.

Tryth nodded and ran a hand through the side of her hair. "I told you, I'm okay. That was just some random occurrence; it won't happen again," he whispered back to her. She smiled softly, in which he smiled back. "Now watch me kick your brother's ass." Tryth let go of his woman's hand and rubbed them together. "You're going down, Gornhem!"

A woman approached with a silver tray, covered with a matching silver top; along the lid's rim was engraved images of angels getting ready to let go of a notched arrow. The waitress, a human woman, placed it in the center of the table. And took two steps back from the table, she held a small booklet with both hands close to the hem of her skirt. "Mister and misses, would you like to have refills on your wine?" The woman asked.

"Ah, hell yeah!" the male demi-dragon shouted. The tables around him stared with faces of seething anger. "Let's kill it!" He impatiently reached for the tiny knob placed at the top of the platter. In a swift pull, the lid flew up in the air, and the waitress screamed.

Gornhem also screamed and dropped the platter lid on the wooden floor. "What the fuck!" he yelled. The corner of his lip twitched in disgust.

"What's wrong!?" Tryth asked, still looking at the waitress. She stood defensively; her book was held up to her mouth. He could tell she wanted to run away immediately. The demi-dragon female looked back to the food, finally deducing what might have been the cause. She immediately stood up, the chair falling behind her, causing a thunderous bang. Tryth being the last to look, reacted almost the same way.

The food, a series of roasted segmented forms of meat all linked together by crispy skin, was covered in tiny white worms. They borrowed in the flesh, surfaced, and went back in. the wriggling mass made up most of the meal. "How could you even serve that!?" Tryth shouted. The meat looked as if it was still alive with how much movement was going on under the skin's surface.

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The guests all around began to gasp; some began dry-heaving and excused themselves right away. "I saw that personally before I took it out!" the waitress spoke in a panic. "It did not look like that! All our dishes are prepared fresh!"

"Obviously, you missed something!" Gornhem shouted. "It's infested!" Gornhem immediately covered his nose the movement he realized it had an odor. "Rotten too!"

Tryth excused himself and his lady from the table. He could feel vomit racing towards his throat. The moment he reached the street, he threw everything up. A hand-rubbed the back of his spine.

"Gornhem is dealing with the managers right now."

"Your brother has some serious guts being able to stay in a room with that," Tryth said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

While Tryth was still trying to stand, a man came barreling through; he collided with Tryth knocking him off balance. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" The man shouted in anger.

The demi-dragon jumped to Tryth's side and held him steady. She turned to face in the direction of the running man and growled. Her eyes turned bright gold, and her wings materialized in a flurry of sparkling light.

"No, don't," Tryth said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flickered back to their usual luminosity and her wings dissipated in the same way they came. "It isn't worth the trouble," he stated.

She let out a sigh releasing her pent-up aggression. "Today isn't a good day for my heart," she admitted.

Tryth chuckled. "C'mon, let's go," he said while wrapping an arm around her. She looked back at him and smiled softly.

A chilly breeze carrying the heavy scent of rain blew through the streets, and the sky had darkened. The storm hadn't been this close just moments ago.

"Argh!" He screamed, throwing his hands up. "I just can't with these people."

"Why what happened?" His sister asked.

Gornhem pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's all rotten!"

"How is tha-" Tryth started to interject but was interrupted by the droves of people leaving the establishment. They could hear the murmurs of disappointment and anger among the crowds.

Suddenly, someone threw a punch. It met one face, then another, and another. Before long, the group turned into a pile of rage and blood.

One instance that the trio noticed was the brutality of an elderly couple. Once the first punch was connected, it was like a drop of blood in a piranha-infested pool. Everyone went after them sensing their fragility.

The crowd stomped in their teeth, grabbed anything that could be used as a weapon. Planks of wood to break the bones, shards of glass to carve, and filet the skin, nothing was left alone.

Tryth fell to his knees again, the high-pitch whine was back and felt louder than ever. He screamed as his brain felt like it was boiling. His veins strained underneath his skin until he couldn't take it any longer. He lost consciousness; the last thing he heard was his woman screaming.