Never annoy a sleeping dragon, for you are fat and crunchy, and taste good with BBQ sauce! -- Fliss
At first, she thought it was a lava flow. One of those ones where the lava ran under a relatively whole, cooler skin. It was warm enough to be one. Then she noticed the way it flexed rhythmically, and realised that, in fact, this was a sleeping dragon. Fire was their element and this black-scaled beauty was no different. Their skin luminesced as they breathed in.
Which would have been fascinating if she wasn't so hopelessly lost. Or that this was the third time she had come across the same sleeping dragon. Or that her food hadn't run out a long time ago and she didn't know what was edible down here[1]. In fact, Blase had lots of reasons to not be fascinated and none of them were remotely happy.
At least this time, she had found the dragon on a level where she could approach them. Their skin was warm, but not burning. Slightly uncomfortably warm, in fact, which was a welcome change from cold, dank caves full of slippery moss. Blase could feel her toes thawing, and tried not to make a noise as she crept over the dragon's hide to their massive head.
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