The Orient was the place of his birth. His eyes would burn through me like the early morning light reaching from the land of the rising sun. His scales were countless like the stars twinkling in the night sky. I could hear his stories echoing deep in my heart, ringing like wind chimes hanging high in the sky. I listened for his voice every day. It seemed to me he was the wisest of dragons. His claws would grasp my heart, his piercing eyes looked straight through me. He spoke; “I only tell stories to dragons I once knew.”
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