Sashiara swirled above the mountain, not entirely sure this was the place she wanted to be. Dwarves weren't that much better than humans, though they were very agreeable when it came to business and purchases, both with her meager supply of gold and her scales when she had little else to trade. All that said, they were still annoying little creatures, at least in her opinion. Constantly digging, forging, and eating, like ants, tirelessly doing what they do best, work. Just watching them from so far away made her tired.
Oh well, She thought, there is one thing good about ants. Suddenly the dragon took a sharp dive, cutting though the air, her wingless flight slowing as she got closer to her target. Her scales cleared the chimney-vent in the mountain, her form shrinking as she went. By the time the once-dragon had reached the bottom, her serpentine body had reverted into a vaguely humanoid shape.
To the dwarves at the end of the fireplace in a hallway at the base of the mountain, a sudden unseasonable draft rushed into the fireplace, extinguishing the flame instantly, and a thin coat of frost had formed in their place. She flipped over, feet first as she hit the ash at the bottom of the shaft. It plumed around her and into the hall. As it settled, it clung to Sashiara's now human body, and transfigured into a fine cloth dress, very reminiscent of the ash it had been. The dwarves had scattered from the dust and now scrambled around like ants whose nest had been kicked, surprised and alarmed at the intrusion. A couple of them rushed forward, axes in hand.
"Narkendosh! How good to see you! I take it from that beautiful axe you're wielding that you've been in good fortune?" The dwarf blinked twice before he recognized his old friend.
"By Thor's Hammer, Sashiara! Why do you alway have to make a ruckus of an entrance every time you come to my forge!? There are doors in this mountain for a reason!"
"Sorry Narken, I just can't wait to see your wrinkly old mug, not to mention I always bump my head on your low door." After similar quips a little compensation for the coat of grime and debris on everything she said a temporary farewell and left down the hall, anxious to put an end to this feeling of needing to be somewhere deep in her stomach.
_________________ Anything is Possible... And Yet, Nothing is Probable.
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