dragonfire

The dragon is angry. She is a nesting queen, her strength sapped by the hours she spends sitting upon her eggs, and her nap on the forest floor had been an impromptu attempt to gain some respite from incubation. She does not appreciate having her precious slumber disturbed by some fetid unicorn stealing her royal blood, and she is quite determined that this idiot filly will be dragged back screaming to her nest to be fed to her hatchlings.

The queen is a corrupted dragon of the Rift; her scales would be golden if it wasn't for the coat of slime and grime that turns them into a muddy brown hue. Spines erupt from her body at odd, painful angles, and it is a small mercy for the grey mare that she cannot breathe fire, only gruesome toxins that she cultivates from eating the Rift's corrupted prey. She has not eaten for days, though, and thus cannot blast a wave of flesh-corroding poison onto this idiot animal. It will have to be chased on foot, and the queen is certainly large and strong enough to trample any piece of forest that gets in her way.

The mare darts sharply to her right in an attempt to escape - how cute - and whilst the queen's enormous size makes her less agile than her prey, her long neck allows her to snap towards the unicorn even whilst her colossal body is in the process of turning. Her jaws gape wide, exposing strings of saliva and rows upon rows of hooked, serrated teeth; she bites towards the big, juicy rump of her prey, her tongue flickering forwards to taste the warm equine flesh.