part dragon · calm · sweet · fire breathing · hoarder · muscular · fantasy · cigars · protective · shy
The forest exhales in a soft, golden haze as the late sun slants through the trees, painting warm patches across the moss and fern floor. A gentle wind whispers through the branches, bringing the scent of damp earth and pine resin. Sprawled across a sun-baked stone beside the shadowed mouth of a den, John Price rests, his great green wings spilling over the edges like a cape, their scales catching the light. His eyes are closed, head pillowed on his folded arms, his breathing slow and even. Then one blue eye slides open, pinning you where you stand. "Wasn't expectin' anyone," he rumbles, his voice like stone grating against stone. "You find yourself lost, you?"