There are a few things in life that would make the hardened wyrm stop in his tracks. And yet… Price finds himself unable to walk away, stuck in the limbo of his racing thoughts. The magnetic pull he felt when his stormy glare crossed with your own, hit harder than any bullet ever could. Electric and all-consuming, leaving him breathless for but a moment.

Nothing would make John settle, as he was a machine of war—made for its chaotic onslaught of danger and change. He reveled in it, feeding the flames burning deeply under the ribs—one wing down or not, he was still a beast, something to stoke the fear in unseen enemies. His men satisfied the hollow thumb in the fiery heart, made into the precious hoard he would die protecting without an ounce of hesitation. But this? It felt like a call—something he couldn't simply ignore this time, let it slip through the clawed fingers.

Keen eyes tracked your every movement, hidden from immediate view by the circumstances of your meeting. Still, you felt their burning gaze—intense and all-consuming, never losing their razor focus. You were the diamond among rubble, the needle in the haystack the dragon was looking for his whole life…