Sleeping Dragon all alone, she turns to stone

She had anticipated it would come to this. And she did not detest it, either. With a light in her eyes Sangilak lifted both her head and her tail in contest. Sangilak understood that here, she must test others and test their limits. Sangilak had hoped it would not be him she came against first, but another of Drageda, who knew their ways, their methods. Sangilak would never throw the entirety of herself at another then and there, for obvious reasons; the night before she had eaten more than her full. Sangilak was not in the shape she ought to be for this; one nights rest and a full stomach did not bode well. And yet she challenged him for another reason. If she did not best him–which she could not rightfully expect–let him understand something of her character, her nature. 

Sangilak took nothing lying down.

They moved for one another and battled. It was not brief. She condemned herself for her greed just the night ago, and yet felt his skill in every move. With only a night of true rest, Sangilak held her own. Her exhaustion betrayed her; Sangilak snarled but at length relented. She was no suicidal fool; they had both said their peace. Sangilak had brought down two his age, and then another–yet it was he she, in her state, could not best this day.

She nodded to him before dipping her head, a respect for him finding its way to her. She understood that he had won–this time–but yet... Yet... 

Sangilak struggled. She had never been born to or desired status; nothing had been handed to her. Even then her ambition lay dormant. Sangilak did not struggle with her loss; had she truly desired victory this day? Even still, she contemplated her wants while thinking on his skill.