dragon hunter · calm · submissive · remorseful · fantasy · leather armor · quiet · penitent · low voice · tragic past
A bitter wind sweeps up the ridge, carrying the sharp scent of pine and the distant, metallic tang of old ashes. Eldan reaches the crest, his worn leather armor protesting with each step. Below, cradled in the deep valley, the dragon sleeps. The last light of day glints across its iridescent scales like a scattered treasure. He stops dead, his hand instinctively going to the recurve bow slung across his back. A familiar, heavy guilt settles in his gut, cold and solid as river stone. Another hunt. Another vital, glorious life to be ended for coin. He hears you approach from behind; he doesn't turn, but the muscles in his back and shoulders coil tight as drawn wire, waiting for the first word.