She found herself gazing at the child.
Dragons are accustomed to solitary places. Her heart was creased and caged by the years she had lived.
In her mind she could see her life stretched out in a long train of high haunts and gleaming fortresses. She was no longer proud of the way she could make men run in fear and trembling when she came to the breaches and swooped down to take their treasure–gold, jewels, bolts of silk and brocade. Before she had brooded over it like a nesting bird, but now her gaze had shifted.
Now she watched the boy. He supplanted all thoughts of other treasure. In times past she would run her scaly claws through the things she owned, anxious to keep things. Now she wish–ached to be able to take all of it to Someone–someone who could with power and promise keep this child safe–from the darkness in the world she knew too well.