Handy’s eyes had widened at the sight of an eight foot tall, red-brown fucking dragon that had just entered the tent. Its sloping forehead ended in four, short black horns that shot out backwards from its head. Its lower jaw possessed an impressive underbite, and its beady, yellow eyes scanned the room, sparks erupted from its nostrils as it snorted derisively. It spied Handy sitting at the back, smiled viciously, its scaly, leathery wings shifting over the back of its black breastplate.