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 r