The sight of the dragon's maw terrified him, those teeth, so large and sharp, he might be tron apart. The dragons breath was not horrible, as he would have exspected, but instead smelled of fire, like burning wood or smoke, an almost comforting smell though it reminded him of a fightening fact. The dragon might roast him alive then tare him apart, eigther way this would be painful. He looked at his sister their eyes locked, and she was screaming, "No, Blaise," and he was crying from fear and because of her screams. "get it over with," he choked, trembling as he hung from the dragon's mouth.