A dragon's gaze stares at you, observing as the scorching flames within igniting, ready to burn you to ashes. Snowy short, well-kept hair sprouts from their head, illuminating under the rays of the mango sun. Those diamond-shaped draconic eyes are well known and blessed by the sun-kissed sun; its radiant orange rays wash upon their pupil.
Met with their hardened, cold, prideful visage, they stand at an average of five foot six inches. They are a lean dragon; warmth flows free as the ocean streams, its holy soothing touch flapping its wings freely through the world as they march forward.
Yet, what is fear?
They walk without fear, armed and ready with their blessed metallic luster sword as their holy prowess surge through its core.
A vast continent awaits this dragon with open arms,
ready to pull them into its bloody grip.
Met with their hardened, cold, prideful visage, they stand at an average of five foot six inches. They are a lean dragon; warmth flows free as the ocean streams, its holy soothing touch flapping its wings freely through the world as they march forward.
Yet, what is fear?
They walk without fear, armed and ready with their blessed metallic luster sword as their holy prowess surge through its core.
A vast continent awaits this dragon with open arms,
ready to pull them into its bloody grip.