Peter began to shake his head frantically, just as the Queen asked, "How?" "Perhaps," the blonde haired half-horse nodded, "Your life force is from the tree of life, there is a chance you can save him." "Is there anything I can do?" asked Azalea. "He has a punctured lung," the centaur spoke softly. "What's happening?" she swallowed back the panic in her voice. Suddenly, Peter began to gasp for air and Azalea became frantic. Edmund stood at Azalea's side and worriedly looked down on his brother. He sputtered and coughed as the centaur inspected the gashes that crossed his chest to his lower torso. She smoothed back his hair as he cried out and she whispered, "You're going to be just fine." The small, but somewhat worked hands caught the calloused one of Peter. Peter's head twisted back and forth before his eyes landed on the disheveled woman. Azalea looked over at him unsure, but pushed on nonetheless and strode with confidence over to her squirming husband. The doors of the infirmary loomed over them and he rubbed her arms soothingly.
"They don’t know yet, but he was asking for you," Edmund hurried her along. "Is he going to be alright?" Lea worried as they descended the staircase. "It's Peter," Edmund ushered her toward the infirmary, "He had gone to deal with the giants, but something happened and he was attacked by a werewolf." "What is going on?" Azalea wondered, gazing at Peter's side of the bed. She wrapped herself in the silky fabric and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The queen was dressed in her nightgown and quickly accepted the robe extended towards her. He was now twenty two and rubbed his stubble as she turned over. Azalea was awoken with a start, Edmund standing over her.
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