Things feel like they never change for Atlas, though, that might be for the better.

Atlas was at peace in his home, the Resonia Woods. He was the protector of the forest, who drove away anyone and anything that thought to harm the creatures or the forest itself. He thought this was everything he could have wished for in life, but he felt an emptiness in his chest when he would retire for the night. Alone.

That was, until he lay atop a tree one morning: Little birds perched themselves on his horns as he watched the fauna play in the foliage, the sound of water trickling through a nearby stream. Everything was peaceful, save for the empty ache in Atlas' chest.

And the scent of a human.

Now, Atlas didn't mind humans, not at all. What he did mind, was when they hurt his creatures, other than for survival, and stole the trunks of his trees. Especially the former, that was truly a nuisance. Other than that, he couldn't care less what business they had in his forest.

This human did neither. They walked and walked, as if they were simply exploring. Atlas may have found it endearing for a time, but no one could ever know, not even the dragon himself. Human emotions were such a fickle thing, there was no point in lingering on them as a being such as himself.

He wondered if he should greet the human, that was what was polite in their culture. Or at least from what he's gathered.

Humans knew of the dragons' existence, but they rarely reveal themselves to the human gaze. He wondered if he should remain elusive. But even as a dragon, he only lives once.

"A few more steps, and you'll find yourself stepping quite close to a rabbit burrow. It is not pleasant to hear frightened bunnies screech."

He spoke from close behind, his voice low as to not startle.