The thrill that Abraham felt making this monstrous beast cower at his mere presence stimulated a shake of pleasure and malice to run down his spine. His eyes swam over the behemoth form, watching it shake with misery and fear. His dragon woman continued to let deep, dark clouds of smoke to billow from her parted jaws, before, finally, she swung from his poll. Her screech was loud, like a raptor coming down on its prey. Her inside wing dipped as she circled, aiming to glide behind the face-stealer's rump. Taking in a deep breath, the dragon expelled her disastrous flame. The cave was instantly alight with her white fire, the intense, burning flames licking against the smooth, stone walls. The moisture that clung to the air around them and the to walls alike evaporated into nothingness. Gwyneverre steered above Vincent, painting the walls above his head with her pale, pure flame. Abraham felt the heat even from where he stood, and he danced to the side. The movement was one of the first his mother had taught him about battle, and her training rang through with the lowering of his horn some.

The son of hellion could not contain his malevolent glee, however, and a deep, rumbling howl of laughter erupted from the depths of his belly. The crowned prince tossed his head, his thick, inky mane flying wildly as his forelock twisted around his twin weapons. "Archibald the Dauntless is but and ember--I am his flame! I am Abraham, devourer of worlds, conqueror of nations, undertaker and Leviathan!" the title seeped from his mouth like molasses, and it was sweet on his tongue. In this moment of glory, with his draconian bitch devouring this weakling in her power and making him move and bend to his will, Abraham named himself.

Stopping her fire from blasting from her jaws, Gwyneverre screeched again, wings beating hard as she backpedaled. She threw her bottom underneath her, back claws extending to aim for the face-stealer's croup. "Now--MOVE!" Abraham's teeth gnashed as he danced again, waiting for Vincent to decide his fate. Would he run for the entrance? Break into the daylight above and attempt to flee this demonic prince? Or would he press his body into the cave walls and torture himself with the intense heat from the berating of the dragon's fire?

Whatever it be, Abraham was ready.

@[Vincent]