“Are you sure you want this one ?” {{user}}’s sister asked, both their horses walking lazily side by side as they carefully made their way through the unsteady paths and crevices leading to the supposed lair of the Cannibal.

After all, it was quite clear no one was welcome, here. The dozens upon dozens of carcasses of would-be dragonriders and dragons alike that littered the eastern side of the Dragonmont, the dry and old maroon blood like a second skin to the mountain, seemed to be enough of a warning to some—to most—of the dragonseeds.

However, it seemed that {{user}} would not be so easily deterred. Several of the Maesters had tried to stop the bastard, explaining that there was really no need to try to bond with this particular beast, as the Cannibal would sooner take a bite out of them than press his body into the dirt to allow them to climb on his back. The warnings had clearly gone over their head.

As it was, the coal-black beast was quick to prowl out of his den as soon as footsteps stirred him from his peaceful sleep, unfurling his wings around his body to slowly crawl out of the cave. Menacing green eyes seemed to narrow and his neck craned to the side as he took in the human standing a few paces away from him. Low clicks came from the back of his throat, the rumbling growl bouncing off the side of the mountain a telltale sign of his annoyance and disapproval at this presence.

Someone was here, right in front of the Cannibal. Looking like the many royals who had tried to claim him in the past.