There are days when I fight, tooth and nail and every scale. I snap and roar and bellow my flames. I fight against the horde with an incurable rage. I don't pay attention to the arrows and spears as they sink into my skin. The fury is burning my soul and I must fight.
I don't stop until I'm forced. The blood loss is heavy. My wings are torn and my body aches. The fires still burn within, but my body cannot continue.
I retreat, limping away to recover from the battle in what little solace I can find.
My scales are dull, marred by blood and scars. But I do not have the energy to tend to my wounds. There is too much pain, and the unreleased rage turns inward. It curls upon itself and dissolves into agony and confusion.
Why do they fight me? Why do they attack? Why do I retaliate?
Perhaps I should just let them kill me. It's been so long and I can't fight forever.
My sides heave for air and my body starts to shake. My vision blurs. Is it tears or fatigue? I cann