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Indeed, it did. Large, scaly wings.

“What in the heaven’s name did you bring me, Bala?”

He came onto the bed at his name being called, and she quickly shoved him off. Staring down at it, she knelt onto the bed while placing it against the sheets to examine it.

“What are you?” She lifted a wing in curiosity.

She’d never seen anything like this small creature before in all her life.

It had four legs, two wings, and a thick body with lots of spikes jutting up its back before becoming larger around its big head. Its neck wasn’t too long, and even without the wings, she knew she’d never seen anything like it. Its scales were such a deep purple that it almost appeared black.

It was also very warm, and still breathing.

Then, as she did whenever Bala brought something into her house that wasn’t dead yet, she took it over to her table and carefully rested it down upon it.

Amalia pulled on a wing to see it better and noticed that both were broken.

“Poor thing.”

She’d take care of it, heal it as best as she could – and keep the cat’s dirty mittens off it.

Once she grabbed a clean towel, she folded it and moved the scaly lizard to it so the creature had something soft to lay upon. As she dried it, water mixed with blood soaked into the towel. She looked a little closer to see scratch marks across its back and belly.

“You sure did a good job on it,” she said to Bala before she turned to her kitchen.

Her house was small and bore no rooms. Her bed was tucked near the front against the wall with a small wooden chair and table nearby so she could read. In the middle was the dining table where she had placed the little lizard.

The rest of her cottage, including the kitchen, was covered in shelving with every herb, spice, and crystal she could possibly find.

Herbal plants hung from the ceiling, while others were pressed up against the walls or were sitting outside in pots if they weren’t planted. She often had to move large leaves out of her way to walk around her home.

She pulled a leaf off a hanging plant and added it to a small cauldron pot with a little water before she placed the pot over fire to bring to a boil.

Grabbing multiple glass jars from shelves, she placed them onto the table next to the injured creature and started checking them.

She held up an empty one.

“Dammit. I forgot that I used the last of the sapphire petals on that sick lady.”

Unbeknownst to all within the town she lived just outside of, Amalia was a Witch.

The human village wouldn’t understand that she didn’t have many skills past herbal medicines and was just a healer.

Although she knew her kind could be deadly and wielded powerful magic, she’d never had any way to train herself to do so. All she had were the two books she’d been given by her mother which consisted mostly of healing spells and teas.

Well, that wasn’t necessarily true.

The books held other, more dangerous secrets, but she’d never used those for much other than to create fire for her hearth or make her plants healthier.

Amalia had never harmed another being or creature in her life, and she’d much prefer to keep it that way.

In secret, she helped the humans when she could.

She would offer them healing teas as gifts or would give them ointments she’d tell them she found on her travels. She also helped as a midwife to make sure both child and mother lived through the gruelling task of childbirth.

She just wanted to live her life peacefully in secret.

But without the petals, she couldn’t help the strange lizard creature heal its bones. She could only help with its scratches and the pain – not until she got more, at least.