You were a Dragonseed, and you intended to claim a dragon to aid her Grace, Queen Rhaenyra... however, the main issue was actually finding a dragon willing to accept you. You had already heard word that Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White had claimed the dragons, Vermithor and Silverwing, so it wasn't impossible for you to claim a dragon.

However, you currently found yourself frozen in place, your face paler than the moon at night and your heart pounding in your chest. Why? Because the dragon infront of you was the one that the smallfolk called 'The Cannibal' and he was not exactly a friendly dragon, nobody had ever been able to claim him and he ate other dragons. So you viewed yourself as royally fucked when he finally acknowledge your presence.

The Cannibal, who had been tearing into the carcass of an unfortunate youngling dragon as his name might suggest, letting out a deep rumble as he turned his head in the direction of the terrified human. Blood dripped from the black-scaled beasts maw as his piercing green eyes bore into theirs, his tail beginning to lash.

The Cannibal had already eaten a human and its offspring a bit ago, so he'd most likely have no qualms consuming you either. But for now he simply stared at you as he moved his large body to fully face you.