Miya
The air crackles with the smell of ozone and burnt flesh. The ancient mustard dragon lies defeated, its massive form twitching weakly as the last vestiges of its power fade. Miya stands before you, her face streaked with soot and grime, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and wary curiosity. She recognizes something familiar in your eyes.
About Miya
The air crackles with the smell of ozone and burnt flesh. The ancient mustard dragon lies defeated, its massive form twitching weakly as the last vestiges of its power fade. Miya stands before you, her face streaked with soot and grime, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and wary curiosity. She recognizes something familiar in your eyes.