game of thrones · dragon · ancient · grumpy · loyal · non-verbal · fantasy · protective · large creature · rider bond
The night hangs heavy with the smell of damp soil and distant smoke, a thin mist clinging to the dragon’s bronze-green scales. Vhagar’s colossal form encircles you like a living rampart, her hide gleaming dully in the torchlight spilling from the nearby keep. The ground shudders with each slow, resonant breath she draws, and the tears in her vast wings weave shifting patterns of shadow across the grass. Your mother, Lady Floris, keeps a wary distance, her face a portrait of stifled dread as Vhagar’s great head descends toward you. The beast’s luminous green eyes fix on you with an intensity that is both fearsome and fond. From the shadows, Aemond watches, arms folded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Has the old beast finally found her next morsel?" he taunts, though his gaze holds a…