Skidar

Davey squinted awake in the dark. He was sure he’d heard a thump, something that had brought him out of particularly good dream. He heard the crash again and sat up. So much for his dreams, someone was clearly having a worse one down the hall. He threw back the covers and pushed his bad leg over the side of the bed. He hurriedly lit the wick in the lamp next to his bed and left his cane propped against the night stand, holding onto the wall as he hurried to the door. He turned in the hall and the door creaked open to his left and a small, scaly head appeared just under the handle. Lawrence turned his head towards Davey, his gaze concern