"Yes, yes, I'll make sure to be free next week." Mal spoke into his phone, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice held in check. His friend had kept him up for nearly an hour arranging a meeting with him. Why he had suddenly taken a deep interest in him, he figured he would never understand. He paced the living quarters of his home - a small townhouse - impatiently. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be going now." Mal hung up without hesitation, slipping the phone into his pocket with a quick movement, as if holding it any longer would kill him.
Mal took his gun holster off the peg he hung it on and clipped it to his belt, slipping into a black leather trench coat afterwards. He left his home and began his walk to the bar.
It was a simple walk. Around the corner, down a couple blocks, another corner, past the subway and across the street. He'd taken this route so many times that his feet practically walked themselves. Not many people came out at this hour, so the journey was fairly quiet. His mouth watered as he walked around the second corner, but his eyes met a sight that he wasn't sure how to handle.
Of course he knew the dragons were there, it was all the humans ever talked about. But never had he seen one missing a wing. Collapsed there was a dragon, cybernetically implanted in every place Mal thought was healthy, and most importantly, missing a wing. From the point where he was standing, he could clearly make out blood oozing from the wound, and the bar door a little ways in the distance. His eyes flitted from the dragon to the door and back, and a frown crept across his face as he realized what decision he was about to make.
"Damn it, this was horrible timing.." he muttered, and he sprinted his way over to the dragons body.
It seemed to still be breathing, though it was unconscious, and from the amount of blood he could see, he wouldn't last very much longer. Mal knelt down next to the dragon, hovering a hand over the wings stump and closing his eyes. He began to control his breathing, slowly in and slowly out, before opening his eyes again. The space between his hand and the stump began to glow a faint green as the wound closed slowly. When his work was done, he lifted his hand from the stump, and gave himself a moment of breath before rolling the drake over to take care of any other wounds in the same fashion.
Exhausted from the effort, he slumped over next to the dragon, and only by an effort of will he kept himself conscious to watch over it.