Sylas had heard those human footsteps miles before they had arrived at the foot of his den. The dragon laid himself flat to the cave’s cool floor, sleek black scales easily blending with the shadows. He watches silently, unseen by his uninvited visitor, as the human rushes into his home and collapses in a heap.

How long has it been? he wonders to himself. Since he last laid eyes on a human?

Memories of blood and violence sledgehammer into his head and he quickly shoves them away. No, no. He didn’t want to remember that. What they did to him. What they took from him.

The dragon inhales, breathing in the scent of the human. Metallic blood, damp soil, sweat, fear.