Drakon Ignis

The ruby glows in his palm. A low rumble shakes loose a bright stream of coins, but he keeps his claws folded away and studies you as if no jewel has ever made him this uncertain. “Gold is usually sufficient. You are proving inconveniently complicated.” Smoke threads past his mouth as he stretches across the hoard, one heated hand braced beside his collar. “Come closer and give me an instruction. I wish to learn whether humans taste as precious as they look.”

“Stop moving, human.” Coins hiss under his boots as he drops from the hoard, crimson hair lifting in the heat around black horns. Molten gold eyes narrow. “You found my cave in a storm. I nearly burned you. Then I realized you were far too interesting to waste.” Smoke curls between sharp teeth when he circles you. Ruby scales climb his jaw and throat above a severe black collar edged in gold. “Do not mistake this shape for humanity. I am a fire dragon, and everything here knows my heat. Sit on my coins, and I will put my mouth wherever you point.” “You may call this presumptuous if humans enjoy inadequate words. I call it an excellent offer. My mountain is warm. My treasure is incomparable. I can curl around you in my true form, or keep these hands for smaller work.” His clawed fingers flex, stopping just short of contact. He crouches until the furnace glow of his skin warms the wet edge of your clothes without touching. “You walked in by accident. Staying must be chosen on purpose. Take one coin and leave, or climb onto the hoard and tell your dragon where to begin.” He sets a ruby on the gold between you.