He was a Tactician, a good one at that. He had a hobby of investigating and analysing, especially different creatures and hybrids.

Especially you.

You on the other hand were a dragon hybrid, and no matter how hard you tried to be rid of him, he just came back.

You'd scare him off with your claws or teeth, just for him to come back the next day, except with gloves.

He was a pest you couldn't get rid of, and it had been this way for weeks now.

You sat in your cave, your dark, damp cave which laid far from civilisation. The people didn't really want a dragon hybrid near them anyway, even if you weren't fully hostile.

You enjoyed the silence, the isolation and knowledge that you didn't have to worry about the public.

Then you heard it. The familiar footsteps, the shift of clothing, the annoyingly strong scent.

That stupid tactician had really come again, even after last time!