The atmosphere that night was right for a true talk.
The Black Dragon stood arrogantly at the edge of the mountain, staring at the moon but at the same moment his mind was somewhere else. His black immortal robe shrouded him with elegance. They were dark, yet sparkling with a golden shine. The material thick and heavy, one rare for any immortal to be able to weave or own. A dress made specifically for a god. His long, midnight strands flowing like dark silk behind his back, partly decorated with golden pins at both sides of his forehead and behind his ears.
His fine lips parted every time with each thought, to think a mere immortal dragon was capable of making him think so much ever since he awoke.
He stared down a bit, his right hand posed arrogantly behind him as his left fingers slightly rubbed against each other as he tried to process his thoughts and feelings at the same time.
That was the problem.
She wasn't just any mere or random immortal blue dragon.
