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The legacy of a dragon was great. It extended far into the depths of the swamp, out upon pounding hooves across the plains, to all reaches of the world kin knew. But the precise extent of his family was beyond Fire Made Flesh's knowledge. Thirteen children, twenty-eight grandchildren, twenty-five or something great-grandchildren, and so on and so forth. That was much too much for an aging dragon to keep track of.

It was much easier to watch over the few of his children who remained close to home- a son who was greedy but naive and ignorant, and a daughter who was as equally power-hungry but manipulative and smart to boot. She was the more dangerous one. His children were all so vastly different, including species! The dragon snorted as Acha offspring fleetingly passed through his attention; he knew little of them, and had less desire to change that.

Inevitably, every now and again the Motherfather would bring one of his wayward children passing through the clearing where he kept his cave well hidden and well guarded. It had happened often enough that Fire Made Flesh simply knew, now, when such a moment was impending. Anxiously, the aged buck paced slowly back and forth across the lip of his cave.

Who would it be this time?

Much too absorbed in anxiety and apprehension, Flesh failed to noticed the slithering serpent that wound itself around his front left hoof; when the dragon went to step forward to meet the surely-approaching someone head-on, he did not expect the added weight to his cloven hoof. The dragon stumbled for a brief moment and a snarl curled angrily on his scaled lips.

"Cursed snake," he reprimanded the equally-aged serpent, who was probably just using the buck for his warmth. Flesh kicked an offending rock out of his way, comfortably and carefully settling his foot back on the earth so that Molten could sag free but remain loosely coiled around his leg. Well, looked like the dragon would not be making any physical advances for the time being.

But there was definitely something- someone- there. With senses as keen as a predators, Flesh lowered his head and extended his neck, flaring his nostrils while inhaling deeply to try and catch the scent of whoever might be just out of view. Faint brimstone and sulfur, not entirely unfamiliar... it was definitely someone related to him. Fire Made Flesh made a noise akin to a sneeze and recoiled as if the scent were offensive.

"I know you're there," he chided firmly. "Come then, and let me have a look at you."

Flesh eyed the doe up and down as she revealed herself, fern and frond parting in her wake. His eyes were bright and sharp beneath scales that belied his age; all cracked and dull and dusty. She could have been nobody. She could have been just a stranger wandering through. But as she boldly declared her presence, a movement on her left caught the dragon's attention.

Her tail curled around her left hind leg.

Her tail curled around her left hind leg.

The scales were placed in the exact same spot. The ones at the end of her tail were even the same shade of molten gold as what coated his entire body. His expression was quickly a mixture of surly defeat and reserved curiosity. Subconsciously, his own tail snaked out- and then an actual snake snaked out almost as though it were an extension of his tail, except Molten was entirely the wrong color. Where Flesh was shimmering melted gold, Molten was cooled smoky ashes with smoldering pieces of charcoal vainly breaking through. The snake was more apprehensive, coiling around the dragon's right foreleg protectively.

"I figured you'd end up here at some point."