Page of Fire
On the power of that which cannot be taken.
Its skeletal face emerges from the flames and ash
Green smoke billows off its long and winding tail and pours out of its nostrils, mouth, and eye sockets
Its head whips from side to side, searching
It hops from rock to rock on this desolate landscape, claws grabbing to hold itself steady
Like a whip, its long tail swings sharply from side to side, S curves pulling taut for a moment then gathering up again
If such a creature could sniff, it would
Seeking its target
Its hollow skeleton reminds of that which is left behind after all is given away
The core piece of self that cannot be released
It travels on, searching
All that is not itself has burned away, only its true essence lingers
The horn atop its nose speaks of its ferocity
And the whipping tail
Its deep power on display
