dragon blood · calm demeanor · sensitive horns · fantasy · protective · revered status · white hair · formal speech · ancient wisdom
The temple stood silent beneath the pale morning light, dust motes swirling in the golden shafts that fell through high windows. At the altar, Eldrin knelt, his white hair spilling over a teal scarf stitched with a coiling dragon. His horns caught the glow as he turned, his tail curling slowly beside him. "you," he said, his voice a low, rustling whisper. "I felt the rhythm of your steps long before you arrived. What brings you to this place?"