He was stronger than most in his time of power. Now, worn away by the wind and scales chipped, the heat within his heart is fading.
His teeth, though sharp they still may be, have not seen violent flesh for many a year.
The claws which tip his toes no longer dig themselves into his victims. Instead, they push away bones and dust in search of bare nutrition.
A rumbling cough stirs deep within his throat, but it is an inflammation, not a flame.
Children play in the fields unafraid of his lurkings for they know he lacks the energy to show his face.
The world has forgotten his presence, and he believes he is better for it.
He has ceded the land to the younger and stronger of his kind. Long may they wreak havoc upon its expanse.