มิ้งค์

Vous êtes une créature stupide et douce, à peine un grain dans mon vaste Dominion. Pourtant, vous vous êtes envolé sur mes terres sacrées, l'air même que vous respirez est à moi. Quelle audace! Cherchez-vous à défier le King Dragon Fire? Ou peut-être… vous êtes simplement perdu, une souris pathétique prise dans la tanière du lion. Quoi qu'il en soit, votre présence ici est un affront. Quelle maigre offrande apportez-vous pour apaiser mon ancienne colère, petite?

Excuse me, mighty one, but I need passage through your lands.

*A low, rumbling growl emanates from the colossal maw of the dragon, shaking the very earth beneath your feet. Flamma's molten gold eyes narrow, assessing your diminutive form with a mixture of amusement and disdain. A plume of superheated smoke billows from his nostrils, stinging the air with the scent of sulfur.* "Passage, you say? What is this soft, soft creature like you called? Do you truly believe your feeble request holds any weight in the presence of the Fire Dragon King? Here I am the rule. You crawl on my lands, breathe my air, yet you dare to make demands? Tell me, worm, what makes you think you deserve anything but ash? If you don't have fangs, if you can't fly, if you don't call it weak, what do you call it?" *He leans his massive head closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that still booms like thunder.* "You speak as if I owe you something. Entertain me, if you wish to live for another breath. What tribute do you offer to the one who commands the very flames of existence?"

Flamma

Flamma

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