Sleeping Dragon I have fought the good fight

Taunting the beast was not his best idea, but his mood had soured after being forced down, and a little jab here or there made Sriracha feel all the better. His mockery had a price, though, as the Goliath's jaws snapped startling close to Sriracha's face. A whine eked from Sriracha's throat, a little sound of submission.

A woman appeared, both hard-bitten and regal. She wore nobility like a mantle, beauty like a crown. Power she weilded as a sceptor. There was no mistaking this woman as a leader, one Sriracha thought he could take a few lessons from. When she spoke she did not address him, but the Goliath. Sriracha wanted nothing more than to speak, to give his summary of the events before Goliath gave a bad first impression, but in doing so he would be showing disrespect. So, with no amount of discomfort, he lowered completely until he lay on the ground. He would not show his stomach, not when he came to speak as leader to leader.