“The candle curse.” The dragon did not reply. Apparently, it did not want to elaborate on it. However, as the light increased, and the more clearly he could see, he noticed the wound he was busy poking with a dagger appeared as bad as it smelled. It was an open sore, the scales having fallen away and looking sickly compared to the sleek black of the healthier portions of its body, shot through with green-yellow spider web cracks, the occasional one even flaking off under the stress of the flight. No wonder his hunger had not risen to the surface when he first spotted the vulnerability the other night. Subconsciously, the vampire within him wanted nothing to do with that sickness, whatever it was.