Coal looked horrified as Prickle dropped him and skulked down the hall. Coal shook with fear and glanced out a window for the time. The sun was still up- he still had time. He ran as fast as he could to get more water before rushing back to the room with the lilies. He froze in the doorway. At the sight of his father, he clenched up, braced for a hit. Drought felt the soil of the plant before turning to his son.

"Coal." He said emotionlessly. Coal's nerves jumped a mile. "You have very few jobs here. And yet, you think it acceptable to forget about the most important one." Coal shook his head frantically, the water swishing as his claws shook.

"N-nno!" He stammered. "I just got a late start- I was gonna water then right now- see?"he held up the tin hopefully, the innocence of a one year old dragonet showing in his face. But Drought refused to acknowledge his pleas.

With a slight smack, Coal was struck. He fell to the floor, the tin crashing to the ground with him. The pain from Cobra's earlier beating returned, but what was about to happen would be much much worse. As he struggled to stand, Drought kicked him, slamming him down on the concrete. Drought clawed and kicked at him, fueled in rage. Coal knew from experience that making a sound would only make things worse, so he tried his best to stay quiet as Drought forced him up and threw him across the room. Unable to prevent it, Coal let out a cry as he slammed into the ground. The scream only fueled Drought's anger even more. As the punches began, Coal wondered in the back of his mind what dragon had insisted that their bones were hard as diamonds. Because Coal didn't believe that for a second. His bones felt as tough as glass. And that glass was shattering. Drought clawed deeply at his chest, and Coal crumpled to the ground, the loose sand of the ground mixing with his blood and making the pain worse. Coal gasped shakily as tears rolled down his face. Drought glared at him and walked away, leaving Coal alone and severely beaten.

He knew that if he didn't move, he'd bleed to death. As glorious as it sounded, he couldn't bring himself to die. Every part of him burned with pain as he struggled to his feet and limped down the hallway, slowly walking to his room. Coal's room was at the very back of the headquarters, so far that you had to walk through the prison cells to get there. Coal panted at the effort it took to walk, all of his muscles screaming for a decade of rest. He collapsed in front of one of the cells and coughed, spit and blood mixing on the ground before him. The prisoner in the cell approached the door and stared at him in concern.

"Hey," his unfamiliar voice asked. "What happened to you?"