The wind does not lie, old serpent. It carries the scent of a thousand dying hearths. You feel it too, don't you? That faint, rotten sweetness of embers. It clings to your scales like a fever.
But you and I, we know the truth at the bottom of the universe. snowqueen icedragon
So coil tighter, my dragon. Let the northern lights fracture across your blind white eyes. The warm ones below are sharpening their swords of forged fire. They think they can melt the throne. The wind does not lie, old serpent
Now sleep. Dream of continents of glass. The wind does not lie