Red, like fallen leaves. Red, like lingering flame. Red, like spilled blood pooling under broken, battered wings.

He raised his head, teeth dripping, nostrils flaring. His golden-yellow eyes shone with an odd darkness as they flicked from side to side. He ran his forked tongue against his teeth, savoring the iron taste of blood. With a sound like hundreds of scrolls unfurling, he spread his wings and leaped into the air, roaring fury and death, and leaving the mutilated corpse of a once-lively dragon alone in the woods.

—Ruby.