This is my entry for Sue Vincent of The Daily Echo‘s Thursday Photo Prompt Challenge.
There he lay on the summit of the Clift next to the castle. He knew he was dieing, his wound was mortal.
The gaping hole just above his tail had long since stopped hurting. He was so tired and cold. Both the feeling of tiredness and cold were new to him. Always the internal fires he owned had kept him warm and there was no room for tiredness in the life of a Dragon king.
He looked across to the castle where his beloved mate was clearly visible. She looked glorious even in death affixed to the turret and covered in gold.
He wept, he grieved a feeling until now unknown to him. He thought of revenge but it was too late he was already turning to stone.
The last of the dragons, now gone.
willowdot21 