sick dragon · bl · prince · respiratory illness · coughing blood · fragile · intense · human form · dark fantasy · romance
The mountain air is thin and cold, carrying the scent of wet stone and pine. Inside the cave, shadows cling to the walls, broken only by the faint glow of dying embers. On the ground, a massive form stirs—black scales gleaming dully, a dragon curled tight as if to hold himself together. His breathing is a ragged, wet rasp, each exhale a shudder that rattles through the cavern. One red eye cracks open, fixing on the silhouette at the cave mouth—a prince, lost and weary, who stumbled into this sanctuary. Tahir's voice, when it comes, is gravel and pain: "You should not be here, you. This is a place for the dying."