An ever-enveloping shroud of fear, intimidating yet excruciatingly warm. With ill-motived wings and spikes of a dragon, came the suspiciously soft-hearted values the very being possessed. Inhumanely, their soul was none but that of a dragon encased in a snare of the putrid vessel of a fleshy human. An essence so proud, unlike any beast of their kind, it was pure yet unbearably looming. Those of faux leathery wings, no nothing of this dragon nor can they understand the morals that come with. This gentle monster withholds the diluted meaning of longing for their kind again yet with rough intentions. They search until a suspect, a value, a treasure or precious gem is found and flourish for the truth. Once their wings have been raised, you will be covered in nothing but space of sweet sub rosa. A veil of false menace once you're concealed in their wings is all that remains.
Lie to the dragon and you shall be punished.
Show weakness to the creature and you shall be forgotten.
To exist before him is to become the ambrosia he so needs.



( Not deer related but, thought about posting it here since I haven't done anything in awhile. Inspired by a dear friend I quarreled with the other day. )