It had never made much sense to him. Breathing fire? Yes, of course. There was majesty to that destruction. The long, savage claws? The sharp, inescapable teeth? Of course Dathrax could see the appeal of being able to rend one’s foes limb from limb, and of fearing very little in return. Also, the long, sinuous body. That seemed an appealing trait. To not be bound down by the bulk of other large animals. The dragon’s natural grace? Surely that was to be envied? But flight? Dragging his majestic arse across the sky, slow painful wing beat by slow painful wing beat? All the running to take off, all the planning to land, the painful stretch of the muscles between his shoulder blades? No, Dathrax had never truly seen the appeal of that. There was the gold, of course. People envied dragons for that as well. And Dathrax could see the appeal of that. Gold was beautiful. Gold glistened. Gold soothed the soul. Gold held him tight as he slept at night. It wrapped its caring arms around him and fed his soul as he faced all the trials and tribulations this life brought him.
